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“Ivan did.”
“I knew it. Not only does he have a tongue that can't distinguish clam chowder from mushroom soup, but he also has eyes that can't tell Tatyana and Larisa apart. I'm speechless.”
“Still, aren't they quite similar for two people? The rumors that Tatyana, not Mother, gave birth to her didn't come from nowhere, Valentin.”
“Not to my eyes.”
“Now that she's an adult, they'll probably grow more alike without realizing it. That's how sisters are.”
An adult.
Princess Larisa, grown into a proper adult. It was a sentence that felt surreal, like a dream.
You are still alive. You survived that hell and are still here, protecting my world.
“Basil...”
Valentin started to ask if the candidates for Lara's marriage had been narrowed down, but he closed his mouth. He decided there was no rush, as Vasily would ask for his advice when the time was right.
‘She won't become the Queen Consort.’
Tatyana's will was far too stubborn, and since all members of the Imperial Family were deeply concerned about Lara, the possibility of a royal marriage was significantly low. Even if it were suddenly pushed forward, he could somehow prevent the disaster of Lara having her wedding outside of Ohala.
Looking at the face of the man waiting for his response, Valentin belatedly added another matter.
“As for your marriage, this summer would be good, even if it's a bit hot. Lara would be next in autumn.”
“That's early. Can we annihilate all the rebels by the end of spring?”
When Valentin gave a light nod, Vasily slowly stroked his chin.
“In that case... will you also be choosing someone to propose to this summer?”
“Brunette III tries to set me up every chance he gets, so it's driving me crazy. He only brings girls who can't even communicate properly.”
Girls who were at most ten or twelve years old, stumbling through the Imperial language. Pope Brunette III hoped they would be linked through the bond of kinship with him and Valentin.
However, whenever he saw the portraits of dainty girls with flushed cheeks sent by Brunette III, he was reminded of his young Princess, making it difficult to look at them for long. Even if marriage was merely a means to an end, his minimum sense of conscience would not allow it.
“If it's alright, Valentin, may I recommend someone?”
“Who?”
“Princess Larisa.”
Valentin's hand, which had been swirling his glass, stopped abruptly. Even as he looked up with a furrowed brow, Vasily's serene expression remained unchanged. It was proof that he was sincere to some extent. And there was no reason for him not to be; from his perspective, Valentin would be the best means of protecting Lara in many ways.
‘Yes, it would be easier to protect her if they married.’
How peaceful it would be to share the same bedroom, drawing room, dining area, carriage, walks, and servants. It would resolve a significant portion of the source of anxiety that had persisted every single day from the moment Lara was born until now.
But such a day would never come.
No matter the means, a married couple is ultimately a bond that lasts a lifetime. While Lara currently lived as if trapped in the Imperial Palace, ignorant of the world, once she completed her coming-of-age ceremony and stepped out into the wide world, she would inevitably meet her destined partner. A marital bond was something that should be formed with such a person.
“Lara's walls are quite high.”
“Hardship is essential to win a beauty. Of course, Sergei Nikitin, who has Tatyana's full support, is standing there like an iron fortress... but if you join me, I'll have a chance.”
“A chance? When did you start a bet?”
“That's not important, Valentin.”
“Let me give you some advice based on our childhood friendship. Never bet on me; you'll end up penniless. Though I wouldn't be bad for stripping others clean.”
“What an incredible sense of self. Rest assured, I have not the slightest intention of betting on you. You can't go bankrupt when you're the Crown Prince.”
“...Who did you bet on?”
Vasily answered by shrugging his shoulders. Even so, it would be one of the people Valentin had screened and the Emperor had approved.
Sergei Nikitin, who had Tatyana's full support, was also within that circle. A usable face, a cheerful and positive disposition, a healthy body—though his biological parents were somewhat problematic, this time was different. Since he had been corrected before becoming too twisted, he was a decent option as a contingency for a royal marriage.
Above all, he was the person Lara felt most comfortable with. The owner of the gaze that looked at her with such familiarity and affection... yet was filled with unpleasant emotions.
[You. What do you think you're doing right now?]
‘Was it Seryozha?’
Unrequited love. What a cute game of house.
Since the letters always simply read ‘Sergei,’ he hadn't recognized him immediately.
Setting aside various trivial impressions, his loyalty toward Lara seemed quite deep, so he didn't dislike him. If possible, Valentin hoped that spirited young man would feel a love for Lara so deep that even giving his life would not be enough.
Someone who could step back ten thousand paces and watch her in silence for the sake of her happiness.
But someone who could let go of Lara in death.
Such a person would be perfect as a marriage partner.
It would be convenient if Sergei Nikitin turned out to be that kind of man. With that brief wish, Valentin set down his empty glass.
Mood: Average. Weather: Worst. People: Many. Earlobes: Heavy.
I stepped forward slowly, one foot at a time, focusing on the loud sound of rain slapping against my ears. The cloak and tray following my every step were extremely uncomfortable and heavy. It was the same even though there were attendants personally ensuring they didn't drag on the floor.
Passing the long red carpet, I stopped before the stairs. The woman attending to me stepped forward and placed a cushion at the bottom of the stairs. It hadn't been a long time, yet the whispers of the guests who had come in person reached me from everywhere.
“What a majestic figure. I heard she was the precious jewel of the Novarov Imperial Family, wrapped tightly in gold swaddling clothes, so I thought she would be small and fragile. Her height is no less than Her Highness Tatyana's. If the siblings stood side by side, they would look like a fortress wall.”
“Perhaps the Countess doesn't know because she doesn't visit Makhachkala often? Although Princess Larisa rarely appears in public, she does regularly participate in some events. She even hosts the Hoxfell Coordination Council herself.”
“I've heard the public opinion is good. I heard she's been volunteering at the Makhachkala orphanage for over three years? A rarity has emerged among such strong-willed siblings. No wonder they dote on her.”
“To say such things even after seeing that gaze... the Countess certainly has a lot of nerve.”
What about my gaze? I'm doing everything perfectly without any mistakes. As I lowered my head and placed my knees on the cushion, my father's voice sounded from above me as if he had been waiting.
“Larisa Nikolaevna Novarov.”
“Yes.”
“Are you happy to have become the adult you wished to be?”
“...”
Unable to utter any answer, I only rolled my eyes. That friendly question was not part of the scheduled order. A coming-of-age ceremony is originally a place to swear by the ‘Ten Commandments of Adulthood’ based on the roots of the Ohala Empire's people and the scriptures of gabhilism...
“The child is frozen.”
A low laugh was heard.
“Count Mikhail, recite the Ten Commandments of Adulthood.”
“Yes.”
It was just a joke.
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