Chapter 12

“Ian? Weren’t you supposed to stay at Windsorbell Palace today?”

Charlotte, who had locked herself in the library with orders not to be disturbed, couldn’t help but be surprised when Ian suddenly appeared. His face was more flushed than usual, as if he’d hurried.

“Did you run here?”

At the rare sight, she raised one corner of her mouth in amusement.

Ian asked abruptly.

“What does ‘another choice’ mean?”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“Not Princess Charlotte Martina Rose Astiers, but just ‘Charlotte’… what kind of choices does she dream of making?”

Charlotte’s lifted lip slowly fell.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you could do something other than marry foreign royalty and leave Grand Batten, what would you want to do?”

Recalling how Charlotte, despite everyone saying it wasn’t necessary for a princess, had stubbornly followed the strict royal education Edward received as a child, Ian changed his question.

All traces of a smile vanished from Charlotte’s face. Her brother was smiling, but he was absolutely not joking.

“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”

“Let’s make another choice.”

Just imagining it was exhilarating.

Something so simple. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

The one meant to be king wasn’t Edward, nor himself. It was Charlotte.

The prince was saying things a princess could never have said first.

***

Perhaps the jury was divided, but it took them a full three hours to return to the courtroom. The judge asked the jury,

“Is Natalie Dawes, daughter of Baron Warfield, guilty or not guilty?”

The jury foreman, who had stood up, glanced at Natalie.

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. She knew this was a trial determined to give her a prison sentence.

If it was going to be prison anyway, she wanted to say something in her own defense instead of her silent lawyer. That’s why she gave her own closing statement.

‘It ended up being more of a fierce battle of wills than a defense…’

She couldn’t bring herself to be humble before the verdict. Her fingertips trembled as she clenched her fists, but the shaking wouldn’t stop.

“Not guilty.”

Ah…

Her closed eyelids trembled. When she slowly opened her eyes, the tears that had gathered fell to the floor, and her vision cleared. It didn’t feel real. She could hear the prosecution protesting loudly.

Natalie closed her eyes again. Tears kept streaming from her closed lids. The two-month nightmare was finally ending. At least she knew she’d avoided the worst.

The day after David’s final trial, it was in the papers that Crown Prince Edward had given Queen Violet’s necklace to former Marquess Eris of Heinznover.

Edward, as if he’d been waiting, admitted the scandal and declared he would give up his right to the throne.

“His Highness will regret this for the rest of his life!”

The House of Lords was furious at how easily the crown prince relinquished the throne and unanimously stripped him of his succession rights.

They didn’t seem to have much regret about the crown prince. After all, they still had another “prince” left.

With the shocking abdication, all interest in David disappeared overnight.

To Natalie, everything felt like a dream.

Most of the money she’d earned as “David” was spent on lawyers and the “David trial.” Taking advantage of the lost interest, she fled back to her hometown of Warfield.

But the world was harsh, and she, still so naïve, didn’t know that the real nightmare was only beginning.

Three years passed like that. Natalie Dawes and David seemed to be slowly forgotten.

***

Not all gentlemen are the same.

There are endless ways to divide them, but it was an unchanging rule that members of the “White Tail” club were at the very top.

White Tail was a gathering of nobles where only gentlemen with the best family, wealth, and education could join. Of course, not just anyone could enter. Only with a recommendation from an existing member could one be considered, and rumor had it that even looks were part of the criteria.

Gentlemen who couldn’t get into White Tail called it a club for snobs, but in reality, they all wanted to be part of it. Just being able to visit the club once by befriending a member was something to brag about.

Roger Heaton, a navy lieutenant with no title and no connections, normally wouldn’t even dare approach White Tail’s door.

So when he got a chance to visit the club by following a fellow naval academy graduate who was a member, Roger had no reason to refuse.

“So, who is this?”

The voice of the man who greeted him at the club was surprisingly cheerful for a “snob’s club” gentleman.

“Sir, let me introduce my classmate from the academy, Lieutenant Heaton.”

“…Ah. Nice to meet you, Mr. Heaton. You’re quite a fine figure!”

Roger felt those reptilian eyes scan him up and down in an instant.

“Heaton… Are you the son of the royal physician, Dr. Heaton?”

The gentleman quickly realized Roger was a nobody. His gaze, manner, and speech instantly turned arrogant.

“I’m the second son.”

That much was nothing. Roger answered politely with a smooth smile. Thanks to his military and academy background, he was good at humoring others.

“Hm. If I remember right, your brother once examined my father. He rarely gives compliments, but he praised your brother.”

“It’s an honor you remember, sir.”

But that was as far as the gentleman’s interest in Roger went. Soon, they started talking about things only the high and mighty would know.

Roger stood by, working hard to keep his expression in check. Whenever he felt his face twitch, he took a sip of cognac.

‘What a bunch of jerks. High-ranking nobles are always like this.’

It was obvious how they’d size him up and then talk about things he couldn’t join in. Still, he tried even harder to laugh along like a clown.

‘Damn. Why’d they have to bring up my “brother” too?’

He swore inside his head.

Born the second son, Roger wasn’t even as smart as his brother Justin. Instead of studying medicine, he entered the naval academy and became an officer.

During his cadet days, when he escaped his brother’s shadow, he believed he’d succeed for sure. But becoming an officer didn’t guarantee success.

The military was no different. To rise, you needed connections and status. The Heatons had no military connections and were barely upper class thanks to their profession.

While his classmates got promoted, Roger always lagged behind. He’d been a navy officer for seven years but was still a lieutenant.

And this was peacetime. Officer salaries were already low, and without war, there was no chance for glory or quick promotion.

It was a shock. He should have realized it when all his classmates were sons of old noble families, but by the time he did, it was too late to change paths.

It was then that the gentleman with reptilian eyes finally brought up something interesting.

“Prince Ian’s return from his tour caused quite a stir.”

“Ah, you mean our Colonel Valderma?”

Roger’s classmate chimed in. He was a navy major, and like Roger, had attended the academy with Ian, so they weren’t strangers.

‘Colonel Ian Valderma.’

At that moment, Roger’s grip on his glass tightened. If the White Tail nobles were “jerks,” royalty was on another level.

Three years ago, Prince Ian had been a major. Now, without ever going on a mission, he’d been promoted twice to colonel. It was an enviable life, with honorary ranks handed out just for existing.

‘Born a prince of Grand Batten, and with those looks too. The world really is unfair.’

He remembered how, even rolling in the mud during training, the prince always stood out. On the same ship, everything seemed to go Ian’s way. Old feelings of inferiority surged up, and Roger’s forced smile faded.

Roger’s classmate continued.

“I saw the news. I’ve never seen so many people at Central Station. The prince and princess are more popular than ever.”

“Wasn’t it their first return in a year? I heard the schedule was delayed, and there was talk.”

“That’s because Princess Charlotte, who’s managed to avoid marriage so far, joined the tour. Imagine how fussy a princess with no real hardships must have been. Of course the schedule got delayed.”

Everywhere the princess went, people praised her, but the high and mighty of conservative Grand Batten had their own prejudices and only heard what they wanted.

“Ha ha!”

The gentlemen, openly dismissive of the princess, laughed heartily. Roger, quickly fixing his expression, joined in a beat late.

“Ha ha ha!”

Roger knew he looked pathetic right now. But there was a reason for this clown act.

This humiliation was a trial to find a good marriage. Roger repeated that to himself.

The Heatons were wealthy thanks to their royal physician background. But most of the family’s wealth would go to Justin, the eldest and heir.

All Roger would get was a country house and barely enough money to live on. At least, by his own standards of luxury.

Now that he was twenty-seven, if he wanted to keep up his lavish lifestyle, he needed a breakthrough.

It was his younger sister Emily who gave him the idea.

Three years ago, worried that her cousin Natalie’s scandal would ruin her marriage prospects, Emily married in a hurry.

For a rushed choice, Emily’s husband wasn’t bad. He didn’t have a title like Mrs. Heaton wanted, but he had a steady income.

And thanks to the dowry Emily brought, her husband went from rich to “extremely rich.” Roger saw that and thought,

‘If I marry a rich, naïve noble lady, I’ll be set.’

So Roger Heaton was willing to bow his head to these arrogant gentlemen if it meant meeting a wealthy upper-class lady.

Just then, a man passed the laughing “gentlemen” and entered the private room, grumbling in a sharp voice.

“When did White Tail become a place for just anyone? It’s turned into a doghouse since I was last here!”

The man who had opened the door so boldly paused.

“Oh… You startled me. You’re already here.”

There was already a guest sitting on the sofa in the center of the room.