Chapter 26

“Have you been well, Miss Ortenza?”

Sir Reussen had only just returned from leave when Dianne thrust something at him before he could even finish his greeting. It was a man’s cloak. He blinked, visibly taken aback.

“Is it… a gift?”

Dianne stared at him in disbelief. Instead of answering, she shook the cloak open. Reussen narrowed his eyes immediately.

“…His Majesty’s cloak.”

It wasn’t surprising that he recognized it immediately. The deep purple fabric threaded with gold was reserved solely for the Emperor and Empress. Even a handkerchief made of such material would be considered blasphemous, let alone a cloak.

Dianne’s hands trembled just holding it. Cora, wisely, refused to touch the thing at all.

Had the Emperor known how much trouble this would cause when he’d draped it over her shoulders that night? Dianne couldn’t say.

“Please return this to the Emperor’s Palace. As an imperial guard, you’re permitted to handle His Majesty’s garments.”

“…But you’re the one holding it right now, Miss Ortenza.”

“You think I want to?!”

Sir Reussen’s face was the picture of innocent confusion.

“Did His Majesty simply leave it behind?”

His phrasing carried a hint of irreverence, but he wasn’t wrong. Dianne stammered in defense.

“He thought I was cold, so he lent it to me. As a gentleman should.”

“But it’s summer.”

“Well, it was the middle of the night…”

A heavy silence fell between them. Dianne could feel her cheeks burning with indignation.

“Don’t you dare get the wrong idea!”

“…I wasn’t thinking anything of the sort.”

“Then please, just take it away.”

Sir Reussen might not misunderstand, but others certainly would. If Countess Ornin or one of the ladies-in-waiting caught sight of this cloak, she couldn’t begin to imagine the scandal that would follow.

Thankfully, Sir Reussen took the offending garment from her hands, though he still looked perplexed.

“Very well, I’ll see that it’s returned.”

“If you happen to meet His Majesty, please tell him I said thank you.”

“Why not tell him yourself?”

Dianne fought to keep her expression neutral.

“…Because I’m… busy.”

“Busy… Of course.”

Sir Reussen’s tone held a trace of doubt. And who could blame him? He’d spent weeks watching her not be busy. Waiting idly for a princess who refused to appear.

But of course, Dianne couldn’t possibly say that there had been something strangely charged between her and the Emperor the night before. An unspoken current of tension that had left her lying awake until dawn. And because of that, she simply wasn’t ready to face him with a composed expression in broad daylight.

Thankfully, Sir Reussen was a gentleman. Rather than press the issue, he offered her an easy out and left for the Emperor’s Palace on his own.

Once the Emperor’s cloak was out of sight, Dianne could finally breathe a little easier. The tension drained from her limbs as she sank onto the nearest settee. She gave herself a silent scolding.

‘I need to stay sharp.’

Exactly what she needed to pull herself together about, she wasn’t entirely sure.

* * *

Time passed mercilessly.

Every morning, Dianne tied her hair with the ribbon gifted by the Emperor and made her way to the library in Oakhall. There, she would sit for an hour or two with a book in her lap, waiting for the princess who never came.

The rest of the day she spent in quiet solitude, playing the fortepiano in the music room, or writing letters to Grand Duchess Ervinzel and to little Erin. She also remembered to send vague, carefully worded letters home to the rest of her family at the grand duchy. Updates that said a great deal about nothing at all.

Life became a strange kind of peaceful. Quiet, to the point of aching.

At least, until she ran into Miss Bertona, the daughter of Baron Aldebaran. Again.

Dianne was starting to regret how unpleasant her first meeting with Bertona had been. No matter how angry she’d gotten, there had been no need to act so immaturely. Letting her temper get the better of her had accomplished nothing.

More than that, she had started to see things from Bertona’s perspective. After all, what could the situation look like to someone in her position? Dianne wasn’t a lady-in-waiting or a respected scholar, yet here she was, appointed as the princess’s governess and treated like a guest of honor in Oakhall Palace. All without even doing her proper job. To someone busy handling countless duties as a lady-in-waiting, that would naturally come across as annoying.

There was only one reason a young noblewoman became a lady-in-waiting to the princess. To secure influence, and through it, a favorable marriage. Leaving that position typically meant securing a husband of wealth, power, and name.

However, with the princess having completely withdrawn from public life and refusing all appearances, Bertona now found herself reduced to running errands, which was far removed from the original purpose of her position. Under the strict surveillance of Countess Ornin, she couldn’t openly voice her frustration, but it was clear she had plenty of it.

Still, venting her resentment like this was something Dianne could not bring herself to excuse.