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“AGNES. Apparently, a squire from the palace came to call on you…?”
As soon as Benoit returned home, he came right to see Agnes, who nodded.
Over tea, she explained what’d happened. As she spoke, the frown line between Benoit’s eyebrows grew deeper and deeper.
“…But wouldn’t it be very disrespectful to just decline?”
“It’s the royal family whose reputation should be besmirched by these events! Philip was the one who paraded his mistress in a public forum, who broke off a royal engagement in a spurious manner, and the one who called his fiancée a ‘fake’ to her face at a royal ball, of all places. Philip behaved shamelessly. There’s no reason I should have to go, and I would hope the royal family would understand that.”
Agnes may have been a count’s daughter, but she’d been born and raised a commoner. And Philip was a royal, albeit one on the outer fringes.
It was kind of a miracle that they’d ever be engaged in the first place.
However, both Philip and his mother had significant baggage.
First off, he’d be obligated to formally leave the royal family upon marriage. That was the key factor that made noblemen hesitant to push their daughters Philip’s way.
Still, Philip would go on to inherit the rank of count. And he’d always be considered a treasured relative by the royal family. So, it wasn’t all bad. But Philip’s reputation also preceded him. He was spoiled and childish, and very few young women were willing to deal with that the rest of their lives.
Philip’s mother was the king’s younger sister, and she’d forfeited her title as a royal princess to marry a commoner. After the wedding, though, she’d backtracked, much to the people’s ire. As a result, she too had a reputation for being difficult.
So naturally, no one had wanted to deal with Philip. With few options available to him, he’d eventually landed on Agnes.
“They probably only want me to go so they can use me as a scapegoat and make a public spectacle out of me. I need to disappear from the public’s mind before any of this begins to negatively affect Kevin.”
“But the invitation came from Prince Claude, not Philip. If he really wishes to speak with you, I think you’d better go and see what he wants.”
“I’ve nothing to discuss with Prince Claude or any other royal. Besides, all my dresses are gone now.”
“…Why do you always have to rush headlong into things, Agnes?”
“The early bird gets the worm! Anyway, all of my dresses were frightfully boring, thanks to Philip. I wouldn’t have wanted to keep wearing them, anyway.”
Benoit nodded sagely. He’d heard all about how Philip had ordered Agnes to dress down and tie back her extraordinary hair.
“I turned a blind eye to Philip’s controlling tendencies and the way he forced you to dress down…but now that he’s out of your hair for good, why not have some nice new things tailored? I’m happy to get you whatever catches your fancy.”
“Like I keep saying, I won’t need them. Can’t you just tell them I’m ill, Father? Tell them I’ve taken to my sickbed. Tell them anything you like.”
“You’ve been seen dashing about all over town. The lie will never stick. Not unless you really do stay in bed from now on. You know how you tend to stand out, wherever you go.”
It was true that Agnes’s bright pink hair drew curious stares wherever she went. And it was also true that she’d been out in town a lot lately, gathering funds for her return to commoner life.
“All right, I’ll stay at home for a few days and lay low.”
Maybe it’d be better for her family if she just agreed to go to the ball. Let the royal family satisfy themselves mocking her in public. Maybe then, they’d drop it.
The only thing was, Agnes didn’t think she could stomach any further humiliation.
Benoit sighed and finally nodded.
“All right, then. I have to say, I’m not a big fan of the royals at the moment either, after how scandalously my precious daughter has been treated. But you’ll have to stay out of sight at least until the day of the ball.”