I didn’t know what to say… I apologize. The reality is, I’ve already changed that destiny.
“So, please, Lord Cecil, don’t hesitate to seize your ‘victory’ and rush toward a love-filled happy ending with the heroine!”
A “love-filled happy ending,” huh? Bertia’s words suggested I should discover happiness and love with Baroness Heronia. However, previously, I found Baroness Heronia uninteresting and even unpleasant. Now, she is someone who has hurt my fiancée.
The thought of loving and finding happiness with such a person is beyond comprehension.
No, the thought of me, an engaged man, selecting another woman was unimaginable. Although there may be situations where, for the nation’s sake, I might consider ending an engagement if there were serious flaws in the other party, Bertia has none of those. She is charming and delightful—I find no faults in her. My mother adores her, and she is actively preparing to be a future queen.
There are no flaws to mention. Everything falls within my ability to support, so it should be fine.
In comparison, Bertia greatly eclipses Baroness Heronia. A charming fool is far more desirable than an annoying one. After all, even among fools, distinctions matter significantly.
Anyone watching my behavior can quickly see whom I hold in higher regard. For example, I affectionately call Bertia “Tia,” whereas I keep a formal distance from Baroness Heronia, never having used her name in front of her.
The academy has an unspoken custom of calling familiar women by their first names, often added a respectful “lady” or “miss.” Although some may be addressed informally, I have never referred to her simply as “Heronia” in any situation.
People who are fairly insightful notice this uncommon way of speaking and realize that I do not wish to be acquaintances with her at all.
It appears that only Bertia remains oblivious to these facts.
Why doesn’t she recognize my genuine intentions? When I’m with Bertia, I make a conscious effort to show that we are a loving couple. It would be disastrous if rumors circulated about discord between the future king and queen.
Recently, my brother Shaun remarked, “Brother, you’ve been giving Miss Bertia too much attention. It’s somewhat embarrassing for the family.”
—The reality is much different from the “otome game” script she describes. Still, it appears she cannot imagine a happy future walking alongside me.
Do I seem so unworthy in her eyes?
Or maybe… the love I believed I received from her was merely an illusion, and she doesn’t truly want happiness with me? These unfounded questions whirled in my mind, rendering logical thought unattainable, while my fingertips felt icy. I forced a smile, yet my facial muscles appeared frozen, as if a screw or two had come loose and disappeared from my head.
Amid these thoughts, Bertia handed me a book. “Lord Cecil, I present this to you.” The cover was blue, adorned with patterns of ivy and roses in faded gold—a design she particularly liked, reminiscent of a worn and thick diary.
I took the book, but I couldn’t force myself to open it. If it really was a diary, it wouldn’t be right to read it without consent.
“What is this?”
“It’s my diary,” she confirmed. It truly was a diary, written by Bertia herself.
But…
“Tia, why would you share your diary with me?” Her gesture surprised me. Typically, diaries are private and not meant for others’ eyes.
“… It holds all the wrongs I’ve done to different people throughout the years.”
“Is that so? And?”
“You are truly brilliant, Lord Cecil. Surely you don’t require such a thing to overcome me. You have more than enough evidence at your disposal. Nonetheless, here it is, just in case. It’s the diary of a villainess. I’m certain it will come in handy if necessary!”
Bertia swallowed hard before she started to talk about the diary’s contents. As I watched her, my brow furrowed. I recognized the gravity of this moment; it was intended to provide evidence that could be used against her.
Just moments ago, I hesitated to read someone’s diary, thinking it was an invasion of privacy. Yet, those doubts have since vanished.
I let out a cold “Hmm” and started to leisurely flip through the pages.
Monday, Cloudy
Today, I took pleasure in tormenting the new maid during tea time. I had her prepare the tea, only to harshly critique it as undrinkable, smashing the cup on the floor. I chose a teacup that was already slightly cracked, ensuring it would break easily. This way, I didn’t have to ruin a new cup—killing two birds with one stone! The moment the cup shattered, the maid looked at me with teary eyes, which was quite satisfying.
—Ah, that incident.
I received a report from an ‘errand runner’ looking into Bertia’s behavior. One day, she had a new maid bring her a teacup that had been accidentally cracked. Then, in front of everyone, she deliberately broke it. The teacup was already damaged by the novice maid, who, too anxious to confess the mistake with such a costly item, had concealed it.
Although Bertia seemed harsh for shattering the cup, the maids viewed it differently. Aware of the maid’s error, she had the cup brought to her and broke it herself, accepting the blame to safeguard the maid. This became a story of heroism in which Bertia defended the maid. Touched by her gesture, the new maid tearfully confessed her error and pledged her loyalty to Bertia.
August 25, Sunny
In class today, we discovered how to properly enjoy tea. I had eagerly anticipated this lesson, as I planned to teach Lady Heronia—a woman who appears intent on winning over my dearest Prince—a lesson about the harsh truths of our society.