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“This isn't the kind of thing to be spoken of so playfully. Was the prophecy of no consequence to Your Highness?”
At his gentle reprimand, I became as mute as a fish. I felt a surge of shame at the thought that I had acted like a child, yet my mind was in turmoil, unable to comprehend my own careless behavior. Normally, I would never have acted so lightly. Why am I being like this?
“Hey, Valentin. Will you be alright?”
“Yes, I will take care of Her Imperial Highness. It seems she has much to say after not seeing me for fifteen days. She seems quite curious about me.”
Ivan nodded and let out a sigh in my face. Lost in self-loathing, I simply remained cradled in his arms.
Emma guided the guests to a warm, sun-drenched drawing room on the second floor. Even as Valentin carried me up the stairs like a child, he continued to converse naturally with those around him.
Perhaps thinking that I was merely throwing a tantrum over something trivial, people passed by, tossing out absurd comments like, “You two look just like real siblings.”
Valentin naturally sat me down beside him. Ivan, perhaps worried that I might do something reckless, observed me intently as if scouting for trouble before eventually looking away.
‘I thought he’d just throw me next to Valentin and not give a damn.’
Still, it seemed he felt some sense of responsibility as a guardian.
Before long, the poetry reading began, even though the issue between Valentin and me had not been properly resolved. A reading that would normally have me dozing off with my eyes open felt inexplicably vivid and uncomfortable. I was well aware that the reason was Valentin, sitting right next to me.
I didn't like the way that pale face focused on Emma, as if he had completely forgotten my existence.
I spent the time precariously balancing between imagining myself overturning the poetry reading and shaking Valentin by the collar, and actually listening to the ladies, including Emma, recite their poems.
‘Boring.’
Valentin's attention returned to me when a discussion began among Emma and several guests regarding the emotions felt by the narrator in the poem The Lover of Chavallon.
“Are you upset because I ignored your requests?”
It was a question for which I had already prepared an answer.
“Can you really just call them ‘requests’ when you ignored all nine of them?”
“I did. However, Your Highness, usually when someone is rejected nine times—no, even after three rejections—it is common courtesy to refrain from further invitations. Had you waited calmly, I might have contacted you in the near future.”
“I sent nine because I knew that wouldn't happen. So why did you refuse?”
Timely as ever, Emma posed a question to Valentin: “Do you believe the emotion felt by the narrator of The Lover of Chavallon is longing? Or is it a sense of betrayal?”
Adding a few concise arguments, Valentin provided the answer: “It is neither longing nor betrayal; it is simply a recollection.” Just as the people began to discuss this answer anew, I pressed Valentin again.
“It was just a nuisance, wasn't it?”
“It seems Your Highness wishes for me to have found you a nuisance.”
“It’s fine, just be honest. I won’t get angry. I’m the Imperial Princess. I’m not the kind of person to scream in public.”
“To be honest, that is somewhat the case.”
My mouth hung open at the shocking answer. With an expression that showed not a hint of agitation, Valentin added.
“You told me to answer honestly.”
Well, that's true. Valentin is right. In fact, I had thought he found me bothersome, and that thought had simply been revealed as the truth... But why did this feel so disappointing?
“...Why am I a nuisance?”
“Must I be honest about this as well?”
“Yes.”
Valentin looked at me with inscrutable eyes, then whispered with a small sigh.
“I will tell you if you promise to keep it a secret between us.”
Why I'm a nuisance? Of course he should only tell me! Lacking the energy to retort, I simply nodded.
“Yes.”
“The truth is.”
“Yes.”
He spoke in a profoundly solemn voice, as if revealing a secret of birth.
“It’s not just Your Highness; everyone is a nuisance. Your existence isn't particularly terrible to me. You are simply one of the countless bothersome people surrounding me.”
Was he comforting me right now? Or was he mocking me after all?
I find you a nuisance, but it's not to the point where I absolutely loathe you. Would anyone actually feel relieved by such comfort? Yes. Me. Surprisingly, I felt a tiny bit relieved after hearing his non-comforting comfort. Even I thought it was a ridiculous judgment.
“Are Vasily and Ivan as much of a nuisance as I am?”
“Not quite.”
“What makes me different from those two?”
“For one, they don't send nine invitation letters.”
Hmm. So sending nine invitations really was the problem. But there's no way that I, being so clever, would have invited him nine times without a sense of the problem. Come to think of it, why did I try to call him out nine times?
‘...Ah, right. It was simply out of spite.’
Emma asked me, “Do you think the emotion felt by the narrator of The Lover of Chavallon is longing? Or betrayal? Or perhaps simple recollection?” I gave the same answer I had given during a discussion with a professor in a literature class long ago: “It is not that they long for a former lover, but rather that they long for the time they shared with that lover.”
While the others looked at me with admiration, thinking I was impressive, clever, and well-educated, Valentin's eyes viewed my answer as nothing more than a predictable and boring sentiment.
I became intensely curious.
‘Just what do I have to do to elicit a sincere reaction from this man?’
How should I behave to share pure admiration or joyful emotions, rather than nuisance, boredom, or advice?
“Do you wish for your existence to be special to me?”
I flapped my hands, vehemently denying his question.
“Not particularly! I'm just a little frustrated.”
“One cannot be a special existence to everyone. Even less so to me.”
“Why is it harder with you?”
“I will have my engagement ceremony as early as this spring, or by the end of the year at the latest. If a day comes where Your Highness follows me around and, blinded by jealousy, harasses my fiancé, wouldn't that be extremely troublesome?”
Is this what it feels like for the blood to drain from one's body? He's worried that I'll follow him around and, blinded by jealousy, make life miserable for his fiancé? Is this a joke? No, it was clear he was being sincere, not joking.
Looking at that solemn face—the same one he had when revealing the prophecy to Vasily—my chest felt empty and heat rushed to the crown of my head. I knew this feeling. This wasn't despair; it was rage!
“Forget it! Who do you take me for, some fool who follows a man around because she's blinded by love? You go ahead and live a happy life with your engagement. Don't even pretend to know me from now on. Never!”
Barely managing to control my erratic breathing, I strode toward the inner part of the room.
Ha, really. Just... unbelievable. I'm so appalled I feel like running away from home. So that's how he saw me? He kept rejecting my invitations for such an absurd reason, is that it?
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