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“Um, Princess Larissa...”
“Speak, Oksana.”
“It’s... ah, it’s nothing. Good night.”
Oksana looked as if she had something to say, but in the end, she simply bowed her head obediently and withdrew. I was somewhat concerned by her preoccupied expression, but that feeling did not last long.
‘Now that the final stronghold has been found, my father’s orders will likely come soon.’
The assassination of Libertan, the leader of the rebels. Would it be concluded successfully?
Under a night sky where owls cried, the dawn stretched on endlessly, fueled by my constant worry for Valentin and Ivan.
From the following day, I spent my time staring blankly out the window.
When would the messenger arrive this time?
Would it be Valentin, Ivan, or Chenko? Or perhaps a face I didn't recognize.
What news would the arrival bring? News that Horgan had moved, news that the operation had been postponed, news that my father’s health had improved, or news announcing my departure for the Imperial Palace. Time flowed quickly just by pondering and hypothesizing.
Around the time the sunset began to glow.
A person I had not expected at all visited the castle.
“Princess Larissa.”
It was Igor.
He looked somewhat exhausted, as if he had ridden without rest. However, the gaze he directed at me was as clear as ever. The kiss on the back of my hand was also as long and warm as always, and suddenly, I was swept away by a strange emotion.
Had he not rejected me?
“I have been terribly worried. Seeing you safe like this truly puts my mind at ease.”
“Thank you, Igor.”
He stared at me in silence for a long while. His gaze was so blatant that Duchess Illyn, unable to watch any longer, gave him a knowing smile and a hint to stop.
“Are the greetings finished?”
Tearing his eyes away from me, Igor bowed his head with a blunt expression.
“...My apologies, Duchess Illyn. I came without notice as there are a few matters I wish to request.”
“I’ve been waiting for you regardless. We don't have much time, so let us move quickly.”
Just then, Duchess Illyn, who was moving further into the castle, suddenly stopped. After staring into the air as if contemplating, she turned her head toward me.
“...There are a few roles I must perform during the surprise attack on Libertan. In the case of the Yurievsky Hotel, one of the strongholds, we keep half the rooms reserved at all times just in case. I need to organize the fictional identities used for those reservations and match them with the operational agents.”
After a brief moment of surprise, I looked at Duchess Illyn and Igor and asked.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
I expected a firm refusal, such as "There is nothing," but the answer that came was slightly different.
“If something comes to mind, I will take the liberty of requesting Your Highness's assistance.”
I watched the backs of the two as they distanced themselves toward the office, then returned to my bedroom. If I wasn't mistaken, Duchess Illyn's attitude toward me seemed to have changed slightly.
On the way up the stairs, Oksana spoke in a voice that sounded as if she had discovered a very mysterious animal.
“So that is the look a man in love has...”
I wondered why it had been strangely quiet. You were busy observing, weren't you, Oksana?
“Do you think Igor has feelings for me?”
“If anyone denies it, stay far away from them... they must be a lying spy.”
“I suppose so. But Oksana, Igor rejected me. He personally cut off contact that could have lasted much longer.”
“Ah, in that case... that person from back then was him.”
Yes, it was Igor.
That made it even harder to understand. Why does he still look at me with those eyes when we face each other? As if there were some secret circumstance...
“Could there have been a reason? Like Count Valentin. ...But, Your Highness. Does that mean you have two people in your heart, including him?”
Technically, yes. Igor as a marriage partner, and Valentin as the one I love.
Until recently, I had viewed these relationships as unremarkable. But now, I couldn't bring myself to affirm Oksana's question. The reason was clear.
I had begun to hope for something from Valentin.
Not just love, but the possibility of spending my entire life with him.
‘But Valentin is a coward. He can't even tell me he likes me. So marriage is out of the question.’
If I keep pressing him, will I eventually hear the answer I want? It would be reasonable to have hope, but strangely, such a future does not easily paint itself in my mind. Valentin is always a problem because he is so complicated. Always.
That evening.
Igor came to see me.
“My apologies for the late hour, Your Highness. I came to ask if you received the translation well.”
Perhaps because his conversation with Duchess Illyn had been long, Igor looked much more haggard than he had during the day.
Recalling the translation lying around in my drawer, I replied with a casual smile.
“Of course. Thank you for taking care of it.”
An awkward silence descended, much like our first meeting. Igor, staring at me with a face that looked as if he had much to say, finally spoke again in a husky voice.
“Your shoulder... is it still very uncomfortable?”
“It’s quite a bit better now. It's still difficult to move, but the pain has decreased significantly.”
“I am sincerely glad to hear that.”
“Yes.”
“...”
“...”
Silence followed once more.
I didn't try to force a conversation. Was it because I had vowed not to ask Igor why he rejected me? Or was it because I considered it a connection that had already ended? I couldn't think of any topic to bring up in conversation with him.
‘It's strange how someone who was once comfortable can suddenly become uncomfortable like this.’
Looking at his eyes and expression, it was impossible not to notice. Just as Oksana said, there were circumstances.
But surely, they were circumstances he couldn't tell me. If he couldn't speak of them, I could not delve into Igor's personal affairs. Our relationship was exactly at that limit.
“I plan to return to Makhachkala tomorrow at noon.”
“That's a pity. It's been a while since we met.”
“...If you permit it, I would like to visit you again tomorrow morning.”
“Of course. Come as often as you like, Igor. In a remote fortress like this, being able to speak with someone other than the Illyn women is a great stroke of luck.”
Igor gave a soft smile and looked down at his trousers. Wondering what it was, I looked down and saw a piece of white paper peeking out from the gap of his pocket.
The man's hand held the edge of the paper and remained still in silence for a while. A few seconds passed with the tips of his fingernails pressed slightly, turning white.
“This is a letter entrusted to me by Count Valentin.”
While I stared blankly at the stark white envelope, Igor departed. I looked down at the letter, which was as neat as its owner, and quietly closed the door.
Why?
I am afraid to open the letter.
It's strange; this is something I have never experienced. To think that I am afraid to read a letter from Valentin, of all people.
Waiting for his contact and tearing open the envelopes he sent me had been the most consistently fluttering moments of my life. Anticipation usually fades as time passes, but the moments spent waiting for Valentin were always fresh and joyful, and therefore, more painful. Even if it hadn't been long since I realized the reason for that was love.
But now, I didn't feel the slightest bit of excitement. Instead, I was afraid.
‘Why would Valentin send something like this?’
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