Chapter 32

Episode 32

Lydia kept fiddling with her earlobes in the rattling carriage, feeling awkward with the earrings.

Unable to bear it, Ilian, sitting across from her, grabbed her hand and pulled it down.

“You’ll end up scratching yourself.”

“Did I really have to dress up this much?”

Lydia sighed as she tried to smooth down the rustling hem of her dress that followed every movement of her arm.

Dressing up like this brought no shortage of things to worry about.

But it wasn’t like she could stop the maids, who seemed all too eager to seize this rare opportunity.

More than just standing by and watching with amusement, Ilian even added unhelpful comments like “Those earrings would suit you better,” or “Shouldn’t you wear a shawl?”

The most baffling thing was that he knew she usually found such cumbersome outfits annoying—the trailing fabric and hair hanging down were already getting in the way.

Ilian turned his head from the window to look at her again and gave a smile after glancing over Lydia’s attire.

“Still, it suits you well.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

She didn’t appreciate empty compliments.

Especially when they came out instantly, as if trying to placate her mild annoyance.

“I don’t bother with unnecessary things like hollow compliments, Lydia.”

Facing Ilian’s sincere blue eyes, she hesitated.

Was he saying this seriously, then?

She couldn’t find a single reason why he would genuinely compliment her.

As Lydia gave up trying to approach this logically and was about to ask why he had said such a thing, the carriage stopped.

“Let’s get off.”

Ilian got out of the carriage first and naturally reached out his hand.

Lydia took it and stepped outside, letting out a low murmur of admiration at the sight of the building before her.

“…It’s built impressively.”

The building wasn’t very big, but the dome-shaped roof was tinged with a subtle sky-blue hue.

The walls below it, dyed in faded colors, looked somewhat aged—but considering the building served as an archive, the appearance seemed fitting.

They had hurried, so the sun was still high above, meaning there was plenty of time before dinner.

Confirming that they had ample time, Lydia smiled with relief and was about to follow Ilian inside when someone came running from the distance.

The man reached Ilian’s side, gave Lydia a brief glance, and began whispering something into Ilian’s ear.

A rare expression of perplexity briefly crossed Illian’s face as he listened.

“Lydia.”

The tone with which he slowly called her name made her instinctively sense something urgent had come up. As expected, Ilian’s next words carried unusual news.

“My sister is preparing to leave the capital today.”

“What? Already? She only just arrived a few days ago.”

Lydia was genuinely surprised.

She had expected her to stay a few more days. Ilian’s slight frown made it clear that this, too, was unexpected even for him.

“I thought the reason we didn’t invite her to tonight’s dinner was just to avoid losing control of the conversation with both Estebans present, but it seems she declined from the start.”

Shouldn’t they try to stop her, then?

Considering their last conversation and this sudden departure together, there clearly seemed to be a reason for her to return urgently to the Lescal Archipelago.

Something more complex than just Count Rodrigo’s injury.

“Go quickly and meet her before it’s too late.”

It was Lydia who urged Ilian forward as he remained standing still.

Perhaps she felt even more strongly because he didn’t seem entirely comfortable leaving her behind.

Though he wore an expression of clear displeasure, Ilian couldn’t hide his reluctant agreement as he issued swift, low-voiced instructions to the man who had been standing beside him.

The aide nodded repeatedly and disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived, saying he understood.

“Just in case, I’ve called someone to stay by your side. Don’t leave the archive.”

She wondered if she might need to return to the estate now and come back later for dinner, but surprisingly, he didn’t suggest that.

And before Lydia could even ask who the person was, he had already turned around.

Lydia was flustered at first, but regained her composure quickly upon entering the archive.

Being surrounded by books was a familiar and comforting scene for her.

There was a librarian standing by the entrance, but aside from a light bow and greeting, “Marchioness,” he made no particular move.

It seemed Ilian had already informed the archive of their visit.

However, after circling the archive once, Lydia found herself facing a different kind of difficulty.

‘I’m not sure where or how I should start investigating.’

Ilian had said he found information about her in the royal archive, but in truth, that was because his objective had been clear—he could have found the answer quickly just by checking a biographical dictionary.

It was more a matter of belief—believing or not in things like Solem or magic.

Since Ilian Esteban was convinced that magical phenomena caused by curses truly existed, the information had probably been placed somewhere relatively accessible.

In contrast, the only clues she had were vague—“a non-human magical being” and “took her heart.” It was an unanchored connection with no beginning or end.

“…Would it be better to look into history and mythology?”

Lydia stepped toward the section with books on history.

She started with the founding of the Kingdom of Cronon. Just looking at it made her sigh, realizing how far back in time she’d have to go.

“…Is there something I can…”

“…Yes. Alright.”

“…Then…”

At that moment, a faint noise came from below.

It seemed someone else had entered. Lydia tried to pretend she wasn’t there by hiding between bookshelves, but the approaching footsteps steadily grew louder.

The steps roamed near the shelves as if searching for someone, occasionally pausing.

Realizing she’d be found eventually, Lydia let out a deep sigh and stepped forward.

Better to face it when she was mentally prepared.

“…Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

Whoever she had expected to encounter, it hadn’t been this person. Soft green eyes shining gently under dark brown hair.

Though his posture was upright and dignified, he exuded no pressure.

Lydia had briefly greeted him once at her wedding. Especially since Ilian had spoken of him directly, she remembered his appearance well.

“I greet Your Highness.”

It took her a few breaths to realize she hadn’t even greeted him properly, and she hurriedly bowed her head.

She was grateful her training in etiquette kicked in at such a bewildering moment.

“Marchioness Esteban.”

The unfamiliar title falling above her head felt quite strange. As she lifted her head slightly, she saw the man still wearing a gentle smile.

“No need to stand on ceremony.”

“…Thank you.”

And then, silence.

Lydia had no idea why the Crown Prince was here.

The only topic they might have in common was Ilian Esteban, but she wasn’t confident she could speak without making a mistake from nervousness.

Perhaps noticing her tension, the Crown Prince, Alek, added awkwardly with a slightly troubled expression.

“Ilian suddenly asked me to come to the royal archive. Said he didn’t feel comfortable leaving his wife alone in the middle of the palace.”

“…Ilian said that?”

Good heavens. When he said someone would stay by her side, she had assumed a palace maid or one of Ilian’s attendants—not that he would call in the Crown Prince of a nation.

“In this palace, there are very few who can order me around. Doesn’t that make me a suitable choice?”

Alec had been baffled by the sudden “request” too. But the fact that that Ilian Esteban had called it a “request” was enough to move him.

In all the years he’d known Ilian, it was the first time he had ever heard him phrase something that way.