Chapter 10

The cook at Oakhall spared no expense when preparing a meal for the princess’s tutor and her guard. Beneath the wide-branched tree by the lakeside, the three of them spread out a picnic blanket and enjoyed a hearty lunch of smoked meat sandwiches, bite-sized pies, and black tea.

As she sipped the tea with jam, Cora let out a soft gasp of delight.

“It smells so amazing! I’ve never had tea this good before.”

Dianne furrowed her brow slightly. It struck her as odd that Cora made no fuss over the lavishly spiced pies and sandwiches, yet reacted so strongly to a simple cup of tea.

Cora seemed to notice her confusion and quickly explained.

“The pastries usually get tossed out anyway, so the head maid lets us eat the leftovers. But we’re not allowed to touch the tea leaves.”

“That makes sense. I’ll give you some of mine when we’re back. You can share it with the other girls.”

Cora flailed a bit, clearly flustered.

“That’s not what I meant at all.”

“It’s fine. We just won’t tell the head maid. I want to thank you for coming out here today.”

Whether it was fear of getting scolded or something else, Cora looked completely at a loss for how to respond.

In the end, it was Sir Reussen—who was now on his third sandwich—that stepped in.

“Miss Ortenza is offering out of kindness. Just accept it.”

Only after Dianne poured her another cup of black tea did Cora finally nod.

“…Thank you. You’re very kind, Miss Dianne.”

“Me?” Dianne tilted her head and laughed softly.

To her, it was hardly a grand gesture. The tea leaves were provided endlessly by the imperial palace to serve guests. Oakhall wouldn’t bat an eye even if she drank five hundred cups a day.

What made her want to share them with the maids wasn’t generosity, but empathy.

Their social ranks differed, but at the end of the day, both Dianne and Cora had to work with their hands to survive. That truth didn’t change with status. In that sense, Dianne considered herself different from most noble ladies.

Cora, sensing the warm shift in atmosphere, visibly relaxed. Even while kneeling politely, she chattered on more freely now.

“You must’ve done a lot of studying, Miss Dianne.”

“Letters, numbers, sciences… I’ve studied anything and everything.”

Cora gazed at her with a mix of admiration and awe.

“You must be a truly exceptional tutor if you were chosen to teach the Princess.”

“Well, I haven’t actually taught her yet…” Dianne trailed off, her voice softening.

Having spent over ten years in school, Dianne was confident she had an edge over the princess, who had been educated solely within the confines of the imperial palace. Sometimes she even believed that, had she been born a man, she could have gone on to university. But no matter how capable she might be, there was no proving it. Not when the very person she was meant to teach refused to appear.

Finishing the last of the small pies with precision, Dianne brushed off her skirt and stood up. Sir Reussen rose alongside her.

She forced a cheerful tone into her voice.

“Well, now that we’ve eaten our fill, let’s go find Her Highness.”

Sir Reussen, ever composed, offered a more cautious suggestion.

“If we search aimlessly, nightfall will come before we make any progress. Let’s focus on the important landmarks along the paths.”

“Landmarks?”

“The gamekeeper’s cabin, the pond, any significant tree formations… There are a few worth checking first.”

“Sounds good. Cora, we’ll be back before sunset, so just rest here, alright?”

Cora eyed the hem of Dianne’s dress with clear concern. Though it was the most practical walking dress she owned, it still wasn’t ideal for trekking through the woods.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“What could possibly go wrong? Even if something happens, Sir Reussen will protect me with valor.”

Though her tone was teasing, the knight responded with utter seriousness.

“I would stake my life on it.”

He was, as ever, entirely impervious to jokes. Dianne sighed and started walking with brisk determination.

* * *

For all of Sir Reussen’s talk of risking his life, nothing had yet appeared to threaten Dianne’s safety.

The hunting grounds were unusually quiet for the middle of the day. Aside from the chirping of birds and the hum of insects, there were no signs of life.

They strolled through the forest path at a leisurely pace. After about an hour, Sir Reussen, who had been silently watching the ground beneath his feet, finally spoke.

“Someone rode through here not too long ago. The tracks are fresh.”

To Dianne, the dirt path looked like any other, but she trusted the knight’s word without question.

“You think it was the Princess?”

“It’s very likely. Outside of hunting season, no one is allowed to ride in this forest.”

“Except royalty, who are permitted to ride whenever they please.” Dianne understood the unspoken words perfectly.

Lowering her voice, she urged Sir Reussen forward.

“Hurry. Before the Princess leaves for somewhere else. Let’s go.”

“There’s no need.”

“What?”

“Listen closely.”

Sir Reussen lifted a hand and pointed into the air. Dianne went still, tilting her head to catch it.

Somewhere in the distance, a song was floating in the wind.

It was a woman’s beautiful voice. Clear, haunting, laced with a sadness that clung to every note of its lyrical melody. The words were hard to make out, but the sorrow was unmistakable.

Dianne whispered urgently, “Stay here. I’ll go alone.”

“What? But—”

“You said Her Highness refuses to accept a guard, didn’t you? If you appear, she might run again.”

Sir Reussen hesitated, visibly torn, but finally gave a curt nod.

“Very well. I’ll remain here. But if anything happens—”

“I’ll scream very loudly. I promise. I’m very good at that.”

Of course, she was certain nothing would happen.

Carefully, making as little sound as possible, Dianne followed the song.

The first thing she saw was a white horse, its head bowed to drink from a shallow stream, ears twitching at the slightest sound. There was no mistaking it. This was the horse Sir Reussen had tracked.

The elegant creature lifted its head and glanced toward her, its intelligent blue eyes catching hers. Dianne almost smiled, but the moment was broken. The song had stopped.

The woman holding the reins was now staring directly at Dianne, and for a heartbeat, Dianne forgot how to breathe.