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Oh, boy.
‘I’m going to get lectured relentlessly when I get back.’
I could already envision the miserable days ahead, filled with nagging and apology letters. Standing at the entrance with an expressionless face, Vasily stared at me and Valentin in turn.
“And it seems you’ve forgotten that Lara is a thirteen-year-old child, fragile in both strength and heart.”
Valentin let out a small sigh, audible only to me, and quietly spoke.
“As I mentioned before… this building is a very old wooden structure. In the stillness of dawn, even the slightest voice carries all the way outside the door.”
“If you knew that, you should have urged me to be quiet, shouldn't you?”
“I did not predict that Your Highness Vasily would climb all the way to the third floor.”
That meant he knew Vasily and I would be visiting the holy hall today, at this hour. I guess secrets don't exist in this world.
“Come here, Lara.”
It was a stiff warning. I obediently lowered my head and walked toward Vasily. He scolded me in a stern voice, directed at the back of my slumped head.
“I believe I told you not to cause any trouble. Did I not?”
“Sorry.”
“Go and get ready to write an apology letter. Valentin? You and I need to have a word.”
“Coincidentally, my paper bags are all empty.”
“Is filling them all you need? I happened to see some small flowerpots on the outer windowsill. You can fill them with soil.”
“That will be enough; I’ll leave. I was getting tired of pretending to pray any longer anyway.”
“Then wait here; I will take Lara back and return.”
“Would I dare do otherwise?”
*Slam.* Vasily, who had opened the door without hesitation, closed it just as abruptly and took my hand to lead me down the stairs.
Having changed back into my original clothes, I was escorted by his hand like a criminal, my lips pressed tight. It was my mistake to think Vasily would wait patiently on the first floor. I should have just finished my business and come out quickly instead of wasting time chatting.
Suddenly, I turned my head.
As I was about to step into the carriage while holding Vasily's hand, something obstructive caught my eye. A few men were gathered beyond the fence of the holy hall.
Wearing faded hats, they looked like local laborers, whispering in low voices outside the fence.
Among them, the man who was exceptionally tall, his neck visible over the fence…
Ivan?
“Lara?”
“…Sorry, the sun was rising. I think I stayed there longer than I thought.”
I hurried into the carriage before Vasily's sharp eyes could spot Ivan.
Wait, would it even be a problem if he spotted Ivan? It's not like Ivan was hiding to plot something evil.
But for some reason, I felt I had to. I didn't know why. No, I didn't *not* know; I knew exactly why. Because Ivan, wearing that kind of hat, blending in with those kinds of people, and wearing that kind of smile… looked so unfamiliar.
What was Ivan doing there?
Leaving that brief question behind, the wheels of the four-wheeled carriage we boarded began to rotate slowly. And so, I returned to the Imperial Palace.
After that day, there were no particular incidents at all.
Time flew by, and soon the day before Valentin's departure arrived. In the meantime, a new habit—no, a daily routine—had been added to my life. Specifically, checking for any letters addressed to me that day.
“Anything for me?”
“Nothing.”
And as always, the attendant gave only the answer, ‘Nothing.’ The expression on the attendant's face as he answered my question was, truly, growing more pitying by the day, despite his attempts to hide it. Nothing today either. I didn't even feel disappointed anymore as I gulped down a glass of water.
What did Vasily and Valentin talk about that day? It's been hard to see Vasily lately, so it's difficult to ask.
‘Would it kill them to give me a hint, since I'm the one involved?’
This is all because I'm small and young; they ignore me under the guise of protection. Thirteen is the worst age. Furthermore, this morning was destined to be the worst as well.
“The prophecy Valentin left. I suspect it was a lie.”
If Tatyana hadn't opened with that, it certainly would have been. I asked back, shaking the empty water glass.
“A lie? Are you talking about the public prophecy?”
“Yes, the prophecy he left then. Don't pay it too much mind, my little kitten. There's a higher probability that it's a prophecy entirely unrelated to the facts.”
Ivan spoke, knitting his brows.
“Tanya, why on earth do you dislike Valentin so much? He is a prophet recognized by the world. There's nothing to be gained by calling a prophet's prophecy a fiction.”
“That's why I'm only talking about it at this table, isn't it?”
Tanya, who popped a tomato into her mouth in one go, shrugged and said,
“I'm not saying all of his prophecies are fake. I'm saying the prophecy he left for us is the exception. Ivan, don't you think it's strange? The prophecies he told us that day… to my ears, they sounded like a kind of advice rather than a warning or a notification. Moreover, the content was all vague. Like the prophecies left by the prophets 150 years ago. It wasn't like Count Valentin at all, not in the slightest.”
That was true. Ivan seemed to agree to some extent, as he set down his utensils and listened to Tanya.
“And in the midst of that, I heard a surprising story.”
“What is it?”
“Do you want to know?”
“Sigh, Tanya.”
“If you want to know, eat all your vegetables without leaving any. Do you really want to be a picky eater at your age?”
Ivan, his brow furrowing deeply, stuffed the greens into his mouth.
“Satisfied? Now tell me that surprising story.”
“I heard that Count Valentin and Emma Tolstoy of the Tolstoy family were supposed to be engaged.”
What? How did she find that out? I widened my eyes, pretending to hear this unfamiliar story for the first time. Ivan asked Tanya back with a somewhat serious face.
“What do you mean, 'were supposed to be'?”
“I heard it fell through. Right before the Imperial Palace banquet. Which means…?”
“Which means what? What do those two have to do with each other?”
“You idiot. Don't go around telling people we're twins, okay? Do you seriously think the Duke of Dmitriev's house pushed for the engagement themselves?”
“Stop talking nonsense, Tanya. Where else in the marriage market is there a catch as wonderful as Emma Tolstoy? Besides, Valentin was scheduled to study abroad soon. You never know what accidents might happen over three years, so it's common to secure an heir before leaving for study. Why wouldn't they push for it themselves?”
“I don't know. But isn't there something we don't know?”
“Sigh, Tanya.”
“You admit it too. The fact that the two timings coincide exactly. And in this field, there are no coincidences. Unless it's an inevitability disguised as a coincidence.”
That was true. Both my brother and I agreed that Tatyana's intuition was like that of a beast.
“My intuition has never been wrong. I'm sure of it; Father tried to keep Valentin tied to Ohala, but he clearly negotiated using the public prophecy as a pretext. Either way, the fact that he gave a public prophecy only to our Imperial family means he's being treated specially. Whether it's obedience or friendship.”
Her speculation aligned to some extent with Emma's claim. Therefore, the grounds for the broken engagement were also likely to fit. In my opinion, there didn't seem to be a more plausible reason than that.
‘I see. Valentin didn't want to be tied to Ohala, so he used the public prophecy as a pretext to break his shackles.’
Does he hate his hometown? Since he lost both his mother and younger sibling here, come to think of it, Ohala might be a place where mountains of bad memories have piled up for Valentin.
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