Chapter 12

“Miss Dianne! Are you all right?”

Cora, who had been sitting on the picnic blanket, came running the moment she saw her. Dianne trudged toward her, only then realizing that the hem of her dress was smeared with dirt.

“I just took a little fall, that’s all.”

“Oh goodness. Are you hurt anywhere at all?”

Dianne shook her head.

Behind her, Sir Reussen, who had been silent until now, checked both the sky and his pocket watch before speaking.

“If we don’t leave now, the sun will set before we make it out of the hunting grounds.”

“All right. Let’s move, then.”

“Are you certain you’re well enough? You look exhausted.”

“I’m just coming down from the adrenaline.”

“Shall I carry you?”

Both Dianne and Cora turned to stare at him. Sir Reussen looked back, expression entirely serious.

Dianne cleared her throat.

“No, I’m an unmarried woman. How could I possibly allow such a thing—”

“In an emergency, such things can hardly be avoided,” Sir Reussen said with utter sincerity.

Only then did Dianne realize he was trying to make amends, in his own way, for what the princess had done. She let out a small gasp.

“You really are close to the Princess, aren’t you, Sir Reussen?”

He looked uncomfortable.

“Did it seem that way?”

“You addressed the Princess by her name.”

“…I was His Majesty’s playmate when we were children. I’ve known both of them since then.”

Cora didn’t look surprised, so it didn’t seem like it was a secret, or even new information.

Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Dianne turned to her.

“Cora, you remember the path we took, right? Go on ahead and let them know we’re returning soon.”

Being a palace maid, Cora was quick on the uptake. She promptly packed up the basket, gave a polite curtsy, and started retracing their steps.

* * *

Once Cora was far enough away, Dianne spoke again.

“You seem to really care about the Princess, Sir Reussen.”

He studied her with a cautious expression, as if trying to gauge her intentions, before replying.

“As one would be toward any noble lady, and toward the Emperor’s only sister.”

“Don’t misunderstand me. I’m asking as her tutor. I’d like the opinion of someone close to her.”

“What is it you wish to know?”

“The Princess seems utterly determined never to marry the Crown Prince of Arathos.”

That was a needlessly roundabout way of putting it. “Just kill me instead and send my corpse to Arathos in a dress.” Those words were unimaginable coming from the lips of Catalos’ most esteemed noble young lady.

Dianne looked Sir Reussen straight in the eye.

“Does His Majesty truly hope I can change the Princess’ mind?”

For a long time, the knight said nothing. Dianne half-expected him not to answer at all. Hadn’t he already refused once before to speculate on the emperor’s thoughts?

But eventually, as though he’d come to some inner conclusion, Sir Reussen gave a weary reply.

“I believe so, yes.”

“…Thank you for your honesty. Then let me ask you this. What makes you think I, of all people, could possibly convince a young lady who would rather die than marry?”

“You succeeded in persuading the young master of Ervinzel, Miss Ortenza.”

A hollow laugh escaped her lips.

She hadn’t convinced little Erin with eloquent arguments. Erin had been a wounded child, barely six years old. Dianne had spent a long, slow stretch of time earning his trust, gently coaxing him toward healing with patience and care.

But the princess was no child. She was a grown woman who had made it perfectly clear she would trample anyone who stood in her way.

“If logical persuasion worked on her, His Majesty would’ve succeeded already.”

“With all due respect, the Princess does not trust His Majesty.”

Dianne’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t fathom it. The most powerful man on the continent, her only brother, and she didn’t trust him?

Sir Reussen brought a hand to his face, suddenly looking years older.

“There are reasons, but I cannot be the one to tell you. You’ll have to hear it from either His Majesty or Her Highness herself.”

“…”

“Neither His Majesty nor anyone close to him can reach her. That’s why they need an outsider.”

Dianne wanted to press further, but Sir Reussen only shook his head.

In the end, Dianne gave up trying to get anything more out of him, but the conclusion she came to felt all too obvious and all too ominous.

‘I’ll have to speak with the Emperor.’

At the very least, he wouldn’t try to run her over like a horse.

* * *

But Dianne didn’t get to see the emperor for another five days. In hindsight, that was only natural. She wasn’t of a rank to formally request an audience with him.

She loitered around Oakhall’s library, hoping to run into him again by chance, but the emperor never reappeared.

In the end, Dianne had no choice but to go to Countess Ornin.

“Is there any way I might have an audience with His Majesty?”

The countess, lounging in Oakhall Palace’s garden with a book in hand, didn’t seem the least bit surprised by the abrupt question.

“I heard you’ve already met him in the library.”

Dianne prayed her face didn’t flush. The thought that this elegant noblewoman knew how she’d failed to recognize the emperor—and behaved with such brazen familiarity—was mortifying.

“The situation has… changed since then. There’s something I need to ask him directly.”

“Why not write him a letter?”

“This isn’t something I can explain in writing. I need to speak with him directly. Even just for a moment would do.”

Countess Ornin tilted her head, considering.

“Right about now, His Majesty is likely attending to state matters in the East Wing of the Imperial Palace.”

“I see.”

“He occasionally takes a walk in the east rose garden during breaks. No one knows exactly when, though.”

To reach the emperor’s palace and wait on the off chance he appeared… She’d barely have the rest of the day to do it.

As Dianne hurried away, the countess added, almost offhandedly,

“Be careful. You may want to keep an eye out for competition.”