Chapter 61:
Frederick
I watch begrudgingly as Cedric Vossenfield takes the Princess for another dance.
I overheard his name. The suitor who earlier interrupted us now twirls her gracefully in his arms. His persistent charm seems to have won her favor.
My brow twitches with frustration.
In all of Brendholm, I've never seen a woman as captivating as her.
Luan—my dear brother-in-law—mentioned that one of us should win her favor. But with the Crown Prince, my older brother, already married...
Such beauty cannot be merely be a concubine.
I find myself thinking: if she were mine, I would never look at another woman again.
The entire royal family is strikingly beautiful. The Salona Empire's noble bloodline has something in it.
The Princess, with her white hair and gray eyes, seems almost divine. Like a celestial being sent from the Goddess herself.
As I watch Cedric twirl her, I grip my glass tighter.
Yearning for what seems forever out of reach.
***
Luan
"What the hell."
Ceaser mutters, his gaze locked onto the same scene I'm trying to ignore yet find impossible to look away from.
Cedric Vossenfield is dancing with Lucina. Again.
I've crossed paths with Cedric a few times during my visits to the Vossenfield mansion. I don't hold a strong opinion about him. But my loyalty to Ceaser makes me wary.
The sight of Cedric and Lucina together strikes me as peculiar.
Lucina possesses an almost magnetic allure. Her beauty and presence draw eyes effortlessly—even when she tries to stay out of the spotlight.
Unfortunately, her personality often leaves much to be desired. I understand why Stella might feel threatened or annoyed by her presence.
But those are women's affairs, I suppose.
A melodic voice interrupts my thoughts.
I turn to find my future wife standing beside me, her hand slipping into mine.
"Care for another dance, my beloved?"
I pull her gently toward the dance floor.
"You are such a flirt."
Grace replies with a light laugh. Her affection for me is evident.
Of all the women in my life, she is the one I hold in the highest regard.
Perhaps even love.
"What else would I be, if not your devoted admirer?"
I counter, guiding her in dance.
"Please. I've heard all about your escapades."
A teasing edge colors her voice.
A twinge of guilt twists in my chest. She's heard more than she should.
"You have all my attention." I say it earnestly. "And I apologize for any doubts. You are what matters to me most."
Grace rolls her eyes but smiles. Her expression softens.
The dance ends.
Grace tells me she's tired.
I take the opportunity to approach Lucina.
"Your Highness."
Ceaser bows in respect.
I dismiss his gesture with a wave of my hand.
"My dearest sister."
I offer a warm smile.
"Surely you're not too tired for a dance with your brother."
Her eyes flicker with irritation at my insistence.
I choose to ignore it.
I extend my hand toward her. Making it clear that I'm not taking no for an answer.
She places her hand in mine.
I lead her toward the dance floor.
"I think you should be spending most of your time with the star of this banquet. Your fiancée."
Lucina's voice comes through gritted teeth.
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind a few minutes away."
I reply, guiding her gracefully into the dance.
We move in silence for a minute or two. The only sounds are the music around us.
"Father and I would appreciate it if you spent some time with one of the princes from Brendholm."
I try to keep the conversation light.
"I would rather not."
Her smile is evidently fake. Displeasure radiates from her.
"Don't be like that. I mean, you're of age. You should be looking for a suitor."
I twirl her gently.
"You have two princesses. I'm sure they can secure your beneficial marriages." Disdain colors her voice. "Leave me out of it."
"It's not like that."
A lie.
I know she sees through my pretense.
She rolls her eyes.
"Unfortunately, you and Father can't make me do anything."
A confident smile spreads across her face.
"Surely you don't plan to spend your life surrounded by your little menagerie in that small palace?"
I scoff.
"I do." Her voice is firm. "There's nothing you can do about it. Don't try me, brother."
"Do you not care about the reputation of the royal family?"
I try to reason with her.
"I do not."
She says it bluntly.
"You are a member of this family. Regardless, you have obligations to fulfill."
"As long as those obligations are not laws, I refuse."
The music halts.
We both curtsy toward each other.
"I feel unwell. I'm calling it a night." Her tone is final. "Have a pleasant evening, brother."
Haroun appears and takes her arm.
I watch them leave the banquet hall before turning back to my fiancée.
*
I can't stand the way she looks at me.
It feels oddly familiar. Like the disapproving gazes I often received back on Earth.
It makes me uneasy.
I try to push those thoughts aside.
My discomfort grows from her divergence from the novel's portrayal.
I feel a sense of losing control.
It would be simpler if she were married off to someone.