Chapter 15
One of the people who made him, the Crown Prince, nervous was none other than Duke Dürman.
Damian felt cold sweat running down his back. The expressionless Duke Dürman pointed a sword at him as soon as he saw him. The sharp tip of the blade was aimed at his throat.
Damian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He tried to find some composure. Feigning calmness but with a sincere voice, he said:
“Assassinating a royal is a serious crime, Duke.”
“If it’s an accidental incident, even the judge would show leniency.”
An accidental incident? How could this possibly be considered an accident? The killing intent towards him was overflowing so blatantly. Damian wanted to argue. But the Duke’s next words came first.
“Your Highness told me. That Ayla was a friend.”
It was true. When he received a bold marriage proposal from Ayla, seven-year-old Damian had rejected her outright. Afterward, in a private audience with the Duke, he had said that. And young Damian had also said:
“Ayla will continue to be a friend in the future.”
“…”
“Is she still a friend now?”
“…”
Ayla was his only friend. While everyone treated him as the Crown Prince, only she treated him as an equal. That’s why he couldn’t understand Ayla’s feelings. Even on the day he received Ayla’s confession, to him, she was naturally just a friend. But when did she stop being a friend?
After that day, Ayla didn’t come to play at the imperial palace for a while. He was terribly lonely, but he didn’t show it. As the Crown Prince, he was skilled at hiding his emotions.
Days passed. The spring when he received the confession passed, the hot summer passed, and autumn too. On a day when snow had piled up softly. Ayla came to the imperial palace. Ayla stood with a prim face next to the snowman he had made.
Ayla was like the pure white snow of winter. When he tried to grasp it, it melted away. Damian realized that day. The feelings he thought were friendship, and that he had already missed his chance.
Ayla had shaken him off. But the foolish Damian couldn’t shake off anything. He kept the snow deep in his heart. So that it wouldn’t melt and could last forever.
Damian tapped the tip of the sword with one finger. At once, the sword vanished as if it had never existed. Damian looked into the Duke’s eyes with an unreadable, expressionless face. Calion did not avoid the gaze of the Crown Prince looking at him.
The eyes like a deep blue lake were unfathomable. The Crown Prince was kind to everyone. Yet he was kind to no one. Calion knew all too well that Ayla was the only outsider who had entered the Crown Prince’s heart. And that was the big problem. Once the Crown Prince tried to grasp Ayla, he would never let go.
Could his daughter be happy by the side of such a Crown Prince?
“Friend.”
“…”
“No, Duke.”
The low voice was tinged with deep obsession and possessiveness.
“She won’t be a friend in the future either.”
“…Then what will you do if I continue to oppose?”
“I’ll just have to keep persuading you.”
The Crown Prince smiled brightly. But Calion knew. The Crown Prince’s eyes weren’t smiling at all.
Calion silently stared at Damian. Now that the tension had eased, Damian seemed quite relaxed.
Calion extended his hand to Damian. Understanding the Duke’s intention perfectly, Damian placed the vanished sword back into the Duke’s hand. The Duke sheathed the sword and said:
“Persuasion only works when it works.”
“…Pardon?”
“Remember this, Your Highness. An engagement can be broken at any time.”
“…”
Calion smiled. Damian saw it again. The Dürman family crest rising behind Calion.
The golden lion roaring mightily.
* * *
Calion, who had been highly emotional in front of Ayla, tried to calm his mind as he rode back in the carriage. With his rationality barely regained, he thought deeply.
Whether the Emperor knew he would react this way, or if the Crown Prince had given advance notice, the Emperor refused his request for an audience. He tried again, and was refused again. He couldn’t forcefully barge in on the Emperor, and with the Emperor taking this stance, he had no other options.
If it were just another noble, he might have dramatically collapsed like Duke Daikerd did. But the other party wasn’t a noble, but royalty – the Crown Prince, no less. That meant the Emperor was backing him. There was nothing to gain from opposing the Emperor. It could end up throwing meat to the nobility faction. Though his insides were boiling, he had to acknowledge the progression of this engagement. However, this was as far as he could accept.
Why is an engagement called an engagement? It’s just a promise to marry, not a marriage itself. The empire now even allowed divorce. Of course, divorces among nobles were difficult due to entangled interests, but among commoners, divorce wasn’t uncommon. If even marriages could break apart, how hard could it be to break an engagement?
[“We like each other.”]
Recalling his daughter’s words made him feel sick, but no matter what, she was only sixteen. An age when passions burn bright. Which meant that the more he opposed, the more it would be like pouring oil on the fire. If they did something foolish like eloping, it would truly be the end. At times like these, it’s better to let it burn. Fires always go out eventually.
Thinking this way, Calion felt his burning insides cool a little. But Calion failed to realize.
That their burning love had resulted in the birth of his eldest daughter, Ayla.
* * *
“Thank goodness. You’re alive, Damian.”
“…”
Damian looked at Ayla, who was breathing a sigh of relief, with cold eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was genuinely worried about his survival, relieved that they wouldn’t have to remove a body from this house, or concerned about the Duke potentially committing regicide.
“Ayla.”
“Hm?”
“Were you worried about me, the Duke, or the Dürman family?”
“…”
Ayla couldn’t answer and gently avoided Damian’s gaze. Damian’s stare was a bit piercing, but it was okay. She could just change the subject.
“Ah, right. Come here for a moment.”
Steadfastly ignoring Damian’s gaze, Ayla grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along. Damian, who usually led Ayla, now felt like Ayla was leading him. It felt like they had grown closer. It also felt like they had returned to the past.
[“…You don’t have friends. That’s why I came.”]
Perhaps it was because he recalled that day. A vivid memory rushed over him. She spoke primly next to the snowman he had made. Her chubby cheeks were flushed red, and in contrast, white snow was falling heavily from the sky. That day, he was hit by snow. The ‘Ayla’ snow.
Click.
The sound of the door closing woke Damian from his thoughts. The place Ayla had led him to was a room bathed entirely in pink. Ayla firmly said to Damian, who was looking around the room with an unfamiliar and novel expression:
“It’s not to my taste.”
It was her room, regardless. Damian tried to recall the Dürman family members in his memory. Duke Dürman… definitely not his taste. Not Eileen either. Edwin, the youngest, is just an eight-year-old boy. The only one left is the Duchess. Come to think of it, the Duchess did like pink.
Suddenly, Damian had a thought. What on earth did that Duchess see in Duke Dürman… Well, people have different tastes.
“It’s really not to my taste, okay?”
Ayla emphasized once again.
“Why not? It could be. Everyone likes different things.”
Just as you don’t like me, but I like you. Damian swallowed the words he couldn’t say.
“But isn’t this room a bit too… you know?”
“Ayla likes white, that’s why.”
Damian sat on the bed nonchalantly and looked at Ayla. Ayla recalled something Eileen had once said. That men like pink. It seemed true. Pink seemed to suit Damian better than herself.
Is it really about a man’s face? Eileen had said there were many men besides Damian, but Damian was the only man who caught her eye. If you exclude Damian, maybe her father? At this point, her father, Duke Dürman, was still receiving courtship from women, but Ayla didn’t know that far.
Anyway, it means her standards are very, very high. It’s like she’s only looking at the sky when she should also look at the ground.
“Well, you could say that. Anyway, that’s not what’s important.”
Ayla pulled up a chair and sat in front of Damian. Then, crossing her legs and folding her arms, she asked:
“What are we going to do now?”
“About what?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? We’ve roughly sorted out the engagement talk. Didn’t we agree to find the medicine made with Soledina together?”
“Hmm. Before that. To add credibility to the news that will soon be announced, shouldn’t we do something else?”
Damian smiled brightly. He praised himself for this very good idea. Ayla looked at him with a face that said, “What are you talking about?”
“What do we need to do?”
“A date.”
“W-What?”
“Let’s go on a date, Ayla.”
She had struggled so hard to escape the yoke of dating.
Now she found herself back in that yoke again.
