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Though the question came from my own mouth, the answer was obvious.
“……It must be because of what happened yesterday, right?”
“Most likely.”
It seems the drunkard Larisa left a bigger impact than I thought. Honestly, Father pretends otherwise, but he's quite fond of gossip.
“Have you set your heart on Igor?”
“I don't know. But it's not Sergei. I think I... did something like a rejection yesterday.”
“I see you received a proposal. Perhaps you aren't as naive as I thought.”
“It wasn't exactly a proposal. It was just an atmosphere where I felt I had to nail down that we were just friends. No other answer came to mind.”
At Vasily's silence, I asked, feeling slightly curious.
“Why? Does Father not like Igor? Is that why he suddenly sent those ridiculous portraits?”
“He cited the fact that Igor is older than you as a disadvantage. Even though the difference isn't that great. He says that among men of that age who are actually useful, Igor, Sergei, and Valentin are about all there are.”
I see. I didn't know what Vasily's standards were, but I nodded in agreement for now.
“If Igor is acceptable to you, it would be best to settle the matter as soon as possible. You've rejected Sergei, and Valentin has already made up his mind... If you dawdle, you might actually have to leave Ohala.”
Valentin. At the sudden mention of that name, I forgot I was acting in secret and raised my voice.
“Made up his mind? What did Valentin decide? Don't tell me... is he going to study abroad again?”
“Do you think he would leave again just as he's finally settling in?”
Having checked that the window curtains were properly closed, Vasily answered in a low voice.
“Before this spring passes, he will propose to Oksana Alexandra Illin. ……I thought you might already know, but it seems he hasn't told you yet.”
<To my dear Valentin.
Hello, Valentin. It's already been a week since the Imperial Ball ended. I'm glad the weather has cleared up. The sky is so blue that it makes my own situation, trapped in the Imperial Palace, feel quite pitiful.
Actually, I thought about waiting a bit longer for you to contact me, but I heard you were very busy, so I decided to send a letter first. I have so many things I'm curious about that I can't even sleep properly at night just waiting. I hope you can send a brief reply whenever you have a moment.
How is the Nikitin family? Can we trust them?
Of course, I don't think there's anything wrong with Duke Nikitin. You changed our present through the past, and I assume Duke Nikitin did the same.
Above all, unlike Sergei, who is hostile toward you—um, sorry, I'll apologize for this part again—he's not actually such a bad boy. Anyway, unlike Sergei, it seems you have some goodwill toward him.
Sergei is a very precious friend to me. If only I could help him…….>
<To the esteemed Princess Larisa.
I am writing this reply as I have a brief moment of time.
I would like to ask how you have been faring, but seeing how your handwriting is packed with dissatisfaction and anxiety, I suspect you haven't been.
I understand your frustration, but such times will not last much longer. I plan to eradicate the roots of the rebels before this spring passes, so please stay quiet and do not cause any trouble. I earnestly request this of you.
You do not need to worry about Duke Nikitin.
On the contrary, he served as an excellent decoy for us, and no harm shall come to the future of your precious friend, Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin. However, I wonder if this answer will also be perceived as goodwill toward him…….>
Ten days after the Imperial Ball came to a close.
After checking the reply I was to send to Valentin one last time, I collapsed, burying my face in my pillow.
“Sigh.”
Once again, I couldn't ask about Oksana.
Oksana. Her name is Oksana……. The daughter of Duchess Illyn, the hunter searching for three men; the second daughter of the historic Illin family; a woman my age who experienced a broken engagement before her coming-of-age ceremony, and someone I've never even spoken a word to.
I had written and crumpled up more than five versions of sentences like, ‘Valentin, I heard you're proposing to Oksana of the Illins. Why didn't you tell me?’, ‘What do you like about Oksana?’, or ‘Is the reason you want to eradicate the rebels before spring ends because of your marriage to Oksana?’.
‘Why on earth? Why can't I just ask for the truth plainly?’
Hadn't I shared trivial chatter about marriage and romance with Emma? I had enjoyed hearing about the reasons for choosing a husband, the proposal, and the parents' reactions—emotions and situations I had never experienced myself!
‘I think I was even bolder when Emma was Valentin's potential fiancée.’
Is it because I've become an adult? Am I just sensitive about marriage because I'm at a marriageable age?
“Princess.”
……No.
Actually, that's not the reason. Yes, let's be honest with myself.
“Princess?”
I'm actually walking on eggshells around Valentin.
[My heart beats too loudly, and that's the problem. It keeps thumping, so it's hard to look into his eyes.]
Stupid Larisa.
‘That day! Why! Why did I act so honestly!’
Why did I say those things? Why on earth did I say that…….
‘Why did I make it so that Valentin's strange reaction wouldn't leave my head…….’
I'm tired of suffering from the mistakes of the past. Even as an adult, the regrets remain the same.
“Princess, please stop hitting the pillow. The guest you've been waiting for has arrived; may I bring him in?”
“……Yes, bring him in.”
Dragging myself up, I walked to the drawing room and sank into a chair.
If there is anything that maintains a semblance of composure in my chaotic heart, it is the fact that Valentin is quite proactive in exchanging letters with me.
A prime example would be the man before my eyes.
“Goodness. I thought I was being rejected after only two visits. I felt it would be awkward to go back empty-handed, haha. Thank you for seeing me, Princess. Hahaha.”
Every two or three days. This man, who arrives precisely at the appointed time to deliver or collect Valentin's letters.
“By the way, there's something I've been curious about for a while.”
“…….”
“Why is there no scent at all on the envelopes?”
A strange sense of incongruity that didn't harmonize one bit with the Imperial Palace. And an intimidation he exuded so openly that not only the guards but even Fedora stepped forward to protect me.
This familiar rudeness and casual tone were telling me. This man is a member of Horgan. And moreover, he's a man I've encountered once before.
“I don't know what scent you're talking about, but I don't put any special fragrance on my letters.”
“Eh? That can't be right. There was definitely a ticklish, pleasant scent?”
“Ticklish? What kind of strange talk is that now? You must have confused it with another letter.”
“Hah. I'm telling you, that's impossible…… Hmm, hold on.”
Just then, the man suddenly stepped closer, twitching his nose as he began to sniff me and the surrounding air.
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