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“HELLO.”
“…Hello.”
It was the squire with the black hair and russet-brown eyes again. He’d come back to her residence.
Or perhaps he’d never left. This time, however, he’d announced himself officially and been granted an audience with the head of the household.
Unfortunately, since both her father and Kevin were out, this meant that Agnes was obligated to receive him.
Philip may’ve been a philandering idiot, but he was still technically a royal. So Agnes couldn’t decline to receive an official royal squire, much less turn him away at the door.
What a disgusting example of class privilege.
Agnes sighed under her breath.
The man was seated across from her in the drawing room, but there was no sign of any mushrooms on the toes of his boots.
He must’ve plucked them off at some point. Either that or they fell off without him noticing.
If Philip hadn’t briefed him on Agnes’s mushroom issue, then the young man would’ve no doubt been most perplexed by the incident.
While Agnes was still idly wondering what had happened to the mushrooms, the young man placed a white envelope on the table between them.
“This is an official invitation to a ball. I was told to hand it directly to Count Lefort’s daughter.”
If Agnes accepted the invitation letter, it’d be unfeasible for her to decline attending the actual event later. Not after meeting with the messenger in person and actually taking possession of the envelope. No, it’d be the height of bad manners.
“…Our engagement’s over. There’s no reason for me to be invited to balls anymore.”
Agnes figured the best thing to do was decline straight away, without even picking up the envelope. But her words seemed to startle the young man. He shook his head earnestly.
“No, no, milady! This is not an invitation from Lord Philip but one from Prince Claude.”
“…Say what?”
Agnes brought her hand to her mouth quickly. Goodness, I used commoner’s speech!
It made no sense. And yet, why would a royal squire have been sent to tease and trick her?
This had to mean that she really was invited to a ball…and by Prince Claude himself. But that made even less sense.
“Either way, there’s no reason for me to be invited to royal balls anymore, so I respectfully decline.” Agnes shook her head firmly, but the young man began to look most panicked.
“Your attendance is strongly desired.”
“I shall decline.”
“Please…all you have to do is make a brief appearance.”
“Easier said than done. I’ve no ballgown to wear, anyway. So, you see, my hands are tied.”
Agnes went for stark honesty in the hopes of bringing this endless conversation to a swift conclusion. But the squire was relentless.
“You can just wear a regular dress.”
The young man was mistaken. He seemed to think Agnes was being precocious about not having anything fancy enough to wear. He was wrong.
“No, I mean I haven’t a single ballgown, party dress, or fancy frock to my name.”
“…I’m…sorry?” The young man’s jaw dropped. “Wh-Why not?”
“I intend to return to commoner life. I’ve already disposed of everything I’ll no longer need.”
The young man’s jaw dropped even lower. The goofy look on his face clashed with his refined features.
“I can’t possibly show up to a royal ball, attended by the royal family, wearing a shabby day dress, now, can I? So, you see, I must decline.”
“But…it’s still three days away. That’s still time for you to—”
“I’m going back to commoner life, so I can’t get a new dress tailored now. It’s completely out of the question.”
Agnes knew she wasn’t being proper, but this young squire was giving her no choice. Besides, she had her own life to live.
“Anyway, why am I being sent an invitation? My father is going to deal with everything involving the engagement dissolving, so I’ve got nothing to do with the royal family anymore.”
“Ah, no, it’s not about that. The prince wishes to speak with you.”
“Speak about what?”
“I…I think you should ask him directly.”
The squire was being vague. Too vague. Agnes got to her feet, struck with suspicion.
“Take this, please.”
The young man frowned as Agnes held out the white handkerchief she’d retrieved from her room.
“See? It’s fine. I haven’t done anything to it. Return it for me, would you? And tell the prince thank you very much for his assistance.”
Claude was another royal, just like Philip. But he had made her feel a bit better. She was grateful for that.
The royal family was probably worried she would try to use Claude’s handkerchief as a pretext to get close to the prince. The prince was unmarried and always being swarmed by eager women. An errant handkerchief could cause a lot of problems.
So, that’s the sort of woman they think I am, is it? Things with Philip didn’t work out, so now I’m just moving on to the next royal prospect?
Agnes felt her hands ball into fists in irritation but decided to shake it off. The royal family was none of her business anymore.
She thrust the handkerchief into the squire’s hand. Looking lost, the young man kept glancing back and forth between the handkerchief and her face.
Ah…I must’ve accidentally touched him! An Akamomitake mushroom just sprouted from his shoulder.
Actually, it was two caps that’d sprouted. They were a muted yellowish-orange color. That’s kind of strange. But luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice them, so it’s not my problem.
The two mushroom caps seemed to have sprouted into each other and become damaged. Yellowish juice was seeping onto the young man’s clothes. But luckily, he hasn’t noticed it yet, so that’s not my problem either.
“Please, take the handkerchief and leave at once.”
Agnes stood up again and quickly left the room.
She’d no idea why Claude would want to invite her to a ball. But, since he’d gone so far as to have his squire officially call on her, he was probably serious. No doubt she hadn’t heard the end of this.
Still, wake not a sleeping spirit and ye shall come to no harm, as the saying goes. More like tangle not with a royal and ye shall encounter no strife…
The best thing to do, she reckoned, was to leave the royal capital at once, before she brought any further trouble upon her household.
Agnes hurried off to her room. She could use the remaining fabric to make another skirt.