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Still... for someone who claimed their wrist hurt, she played quite well.
He was familiar with the sight of a woman looking depressed even after delivering a performance that everyone praised. It wasn't for nothing that Ray thought of a ragged, defeated soldier whenever he looked at her.
This woman had been defeated by the piano. He couldn't know for sure, but it was clear that the instrument had failed to give her the result she desired.
Ridiculously, Ray felt a sense of kinship with her in that moment. With a woman he had thought was nothing like him, and could never be like him.
Because although he had won in this godforsaken war—a victory so great that anyone would acknowledge it—his feelings when recalling that war never felt like those of a winner.
“I didn't even play that well anyway,” Rose added, fidgeting with the piece of paper in her hand.
Ray continued to watch the woman holding the paper with Marcel Garnier's address. A question he had never considered before dominated his mind.
Why did this woman choose to marry him?
As Marcel's existence proved, Rose had a past, a life. She seemed to have had dreams. And perhaps, yes, a 'genuine' smile.
For the first time, Ray wondered why such a woman had come to this foreign land, and why she had come to him.
Rose's expressionless face still gave Ray no answers.
* * *
By the time the scab had formed over the wound on Ray Crawford's arm, the anniversary of the end of the war arrived.
Ray's schedule for the third anniversary of the war's end was busy. Seeing the Foreign Minister appear as busy as the Prime Minister, it seemed he truly was the symbol of the Orturan War.
Indeed, it was said that he had briefly held the position of Vice Minister of Defense during the war. Some said that Ray was the one who actually handled the work under a minister who existed in name only.
Rose thought that since he must have been under thirty at the time, this country must have been severely lacking in talent to appoint such a green youth to such a position.
After delivering a speech at the commemorative event and visiting a military hospital to encourage long-term patients, Ray arrived at the Royal Military Training Center.
Once a year, the Royal Military Training Center gathers cadets from each academy for a month of joint training, and it happened that the training period overlapped with the anniversary of the war's end.
Previous events had been attended by Queen Catherine and the Prime Minister, but the only ones present at this event were the Queen, the youngest Prince who had participated in the last war, and Ray Crawford.
Sitting in the spectator stands and watching her husband, Rose shifted her position several times, but the discomfort did not fade.
The King of Orturan, the Prince, and she were sitting right next to them. She, who had done nothing but play the piano in the rural countryside of Bolton.
It was an absurd situation. It would have been stranger if her father weren't walking around with such an air of triumph.
Under the clear blue October sky, Ray, wearing white naval dress trousers, strode toward the podium with legs that looked longer than usual.
“Salute the Minister!”
As he ascended the podium, the cadets lined up across the field saluted in unison.
Ray had graduated from the Naval Academy, but she had heard that because his expertise was so outstanding, he was greatly admired regardless of his affiliation.
As if to prove this, the moment he offered words of encouragement, the young cadets from each academy let out powerful cheers without exception. It was loud enough to make one's ears ring.
The medals pinned to his white dress jacket sparkled proudly in the sunlight.
Queen Catherine, nearly seventy years old and having already finished her speech and descended, leaned toward Rose as if she had no interest in Ray's words of encouragement.
Because of this, the youngest Prince, sitting between them, had to lean back with an uncomfortable expression.
“I heard you were Garnier's student? Why didn't you mention it?”
The Queen, whom she was seeing for the first time since their marriage, asked abruptly.
“Ah, it was so long ago...”
“You must have prepared for a debut as a pianist, then? Since the Mrs. is Boltonian.”
As expected of a Queen who had no one above her, her questioning was blunt.
“I wasn't skilled enough for that.”
“Is that so? Well, talent isn't given to everyone,” the Queen replied in a bored tone, glancing briefly at Ray.
He was delivering his speech without a single piece of paper. To the man who continued to speak steadily while making eye contact with the cadets, that position seemed perfectly natural.
“You can tell by looking at your husband. Isn't he a natural-born politician? But not every Crawford is like that. Those born with it are limited.”
Judging by her indifferent attitude, it was impossible to tell whether she actually fond of her godson or not.
Now, Ray was descending from the podium to applause, having finished his relatively short speech. He immediately entered a tent set up outdoors.
He had mentioned a friendly rugby match with the academy cadets, so it seemed he had gone inside to change.
It was hard to believe that a man who always wore crisp suits was about to engage in a sport where bodies collided on a dirt field. Was he the kind of man who could do that?
Soon, Ray emerged from the tent wearing a comfortable khaki fabric shirt and light beige flannel shorts that revealed his firm thighs, paired with long socks and shoes that looked like work boots.
She had thought he was on the larger side even in a suit, but wearing trousers that clearly showed his leg muscles and a loose-fitting top that revealed his chest, he looked far larger than others.
My goodness, Rose muttered to herself.
Since such a large man had climbed on top of her, it made sense that her wrists had become so red. It was a relief that it had ended at that level.
Twelve cadets began putting on their jerseys after dividing into teams. The team captained by Ray wore khaki tops, while the opposing team, captained by a young man who was a professor at the academy, wore red tops and faced off.
The Queen's eyes, which had looked bored throughout, began to sparkle at the sight. Rose had often heard that Orturans were passionate about sports.
When an officer, who appeared to be an instructor, approached the spectator stands to encourage betting, Queen Catherine smiled brightly and pinned a piece of paper with her name and the amount of money on the opposing team's board. Then she whispered to Rose.
“A monarch is supposed to cheer for the disadvantaged team.”
It meant she was certain Ray would win.
On the other hand, the youngest Prince, sitting in the middle, pinned his paper to Ray's team board without a second of hesitation.
Rose watched the players of both teams closely.
To her untrained eyes, Ray's team looked disadvantaged. This was because there were a few players on Ray's team who were exceptionally small in stature.
“Isn't there too much of a difference in the players' sizes?”
At Rose's question, the officer holding the betting board smiled brightly.
“Minister Crawford always yields and takes the disadvantaged side. He's been like that since his cadet days and through the time he was my superior. He is truly a wonderful person.”
Right next to her, a loud, snorting sound was heard, almost like a sneer.
Rose, who was pinning her paper to Ray's team board, looked over in surprise, but the Prince maintained a composed expression as if nothing had happened, despite the loud snort.
Noticing Rose's bewildered gaze, the Prince, who had remained silent throughout the event, looked at her.
“Today's match is a seven-a-side game. Are you familiar with the rules, Mrs. Crawford?”
“Actually, I don't know them well. I've never seen a rugby match before.”
“It won't matter if you don't. That fellow will handle everything anyway.”
The youngest Prince had attended boarding school, university, and the Naval Academy with Ray, and his way of speaking was quite familiar.
“Then, Your Highness, did you bet money thinking my husband would win?”
“Correct. Because it's obvious even without looking. My mother is enough of a provider for the weak; I prefer to save my money.”
“I thought my husband was doing it to let the others win.”
“You don't know your husband very well, do you, Mrs. Crawford? Or perhaps Ray is acting a bit kinder toward you?”
The Prince laughed as if he had heard something amusing.
“Yielding, my foot. That madman enjoys being at a disadvantage. He probably intentionally formed the team to be the weaker side.”
It was said that the King had raised him with the most affection as a child born late in life, and indeed, his way of speaking was free, unlike a typical Orturan. He was also the Prince most loved by Orturan gossip magazines.
“Now, look. He'll even give the first turn to the opposing team. Usually, they toss a coin, but our Ray will very elegantly yield the turn to the opponent.”
Ray and the opposing captain exchanged a few words, and a moment later, one of the opposing players began preparing to kick the ball.
“Am I right?”
Just as the Prince whispered, the player kicked the ball far, and the game began.
It seemed he intended to pass to a teammate, but Ray, who was standing nearby, dodged the enemies on both sides and leaped up to snatch the ball.
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