「※ This propaganda novel includes scenes such as smoking, which are inappropriate for children.
※ Names of characters other than the Little Lord and her family are marked as XX.
※ Detailed descriptions related to the unfortunate deaths of royal family members are omitted out of respect. Please consider this.

Is this what a honeymoon is supposed to be like? Is it normal for a husband and wife to only see each other at night because of their respective duties?
I wandered around the terrace, bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight, and plopped down on a chair at the table. The lunch prepared by the cook was laid out on a quaint silver tray at each seat.
Viett’s tray had a stew full of carrots and turnip pieces, while my stew bowl was filled with just meat. Not understanding why, I gently stirred Viett’s stew with a spoon. There was no meat at all. (Does Viett dislike meat?)

— When will he come… really…

I muttered, dragging out my words as I lay my head on the table. Was it because I had run all the way from the field hospital to home to keep our promised time? I felt unusually drained. My empty stomach growled loudly.

— He promised we’d have lunch together today! Idiot!

Even though the promised time had long passed, my husband was nowhere to be seen. With the terrace window wide open, I could see over the low garden wall.
Officers in training uniforms were smoking and strolling beyond the wall. Soldiers who had finished their meal were playing rugby in the open space.
Normally, Viett would have coldly brushed off those who clung to him to play rugby and hurriedly strode through the gate. He should have crossed the garden and come straight up to the terrace where I was.
And he should have started the conversation with an apology, forgetting his past when he couldn’t even say sorry like a sulking child.
But he still hadn’t shown up. I lifted my necklace and opened the lid of the watch pendant. I fiddled with the Queen’s ring while checking the time. My lunch break had less than 40 minutes left.

— Sorry I’m late.

Viett entered the terrace 15 minutes later. He took off his military cap and sat across from me. He was slightly out of breath, as if he had hurried over.

— There was a clash with the Sandlake Airborne Unit…

— It’s okay. At least we saw each other today.

At my pointed remark, he raised his eyebrows. I was hinting at how he hadn’t shown his face from early morning to late night yesterday, and he immediately caught on to my sarcasm.

— If I had known it would be this hard to see you…

I grumbled, resting my chin on my hands. Viett wiped the sweat from his forehead and grimaced.

— If you had known, then what?

— Why are you getting upset all of a sudden? I haven’t even said anything yet.

Startled by his sharper-than-expected reaction, I opened my eyes wide. Embarrassed, he fumbled in his uniform pocket.

— Don’t pout like a duck. Just tell me what’s bothering you.

— You can read my feelings in the novel. Everyone else does when they doubt me!

— No. Why should I when you’re right here? I prefer talking face-to-face.

Stubbornly, he said this and took out his cigar case. He opened it wide but didn’t take out a single cigar, instead tossing the whole case onto the table.
I watched as he nervously crossed his legs and tapped the table with his fingers. (It seemed like his withdrawal symptoms were starting to show.)
I was impressed by his effort to suppress his urge to smoke. I had offhandedly asked him to cut back on smoking, and it seemed he was trying hard to honor that request.

— I apologize for snapping. I was just upset about not being able to spend time with you.

He stopped tapping the table and stared at his hand before awkwardly avoiding my gaze.

— I’m sorry for raising my voice suddenly.

— Wow, that’s a huge improvement. You used to just brush it off with an ‘It was a mistake.’ Look at that arrogant face!

I mimicked his often stern expression, and he glanced at me, frowning, then chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

— Oh, right. I moved the phonograph from the study to the bedroom earlier.

— The bedroom?

Viett murmured in a low voice. I explained how I had moved the phonograph by myself while he was away.

— I thought it might be better to keep it by the bed, as you suggested.

— ……

— There’s a lullaby among the songs you recorded, so it would be nice to fall asleep to it.

He looked at me with a strange expression, then subtly checked the time on his pocket watch. Ignoring him, I picked up my spoon and took a bite of the stew. As expected, it was cold.

— Pepe.

Viett reached across the table and took my hand. I stopped stirring the stew and looked at him. He leaned in slightly, meeting my eyes, and spoke softly.

— If I could, I’d go upstairs and spend the entire afternoon in bed with you.

— That sounds nice. We could finally get a good nap.

— …Huh?

— We both haven’t been sleeping well lately.

He slowly furrowed his brows. Gently rubbing the back of my hand with his rough fingers, he narrowed his eyes.

— …Did you understand what I just implied?

— That you’re tired and want to lie down…?

— Do you really think I meant I wanted to lie down alone…? Never mind.

He sighed and let go of my hand. Leaning back in his chair irritably, he finally put a cigar in his mouth. As soon as he picked up the lighter, I deliberately coughed loudly.

— …I haven’t even lit it yet.

He paused and muttered in a troubled voice. Then he put the cigar back down. I smiled contentedly and asked.

— You said you’re leaving the day after tomorrow, right?

He looked up from tidying his cigar case and stared at me. The irritation in his blue eyes slowly faded.

— …I’m sorry. For leaving you alone.

I shook my head and held his hand, still clutching the cigar case.

— It’s fine. It’s not like you started the war.

— ……

— Just come back safely. Don’t make me a widow!

— Please, don’t say such unlucky things.

He grumbled, covering my hand with his large one. At that moment, someone jumped onto the terrace and shouted loudly.

— Your Highness!

It was Lieutenant XX, Viett’s adjutant. Viett glared at him, furrowing his brow.

— I told you not to disturb me when I’m with my wife.

— I’m sorry. The situation is urgent…

Lieutenant XX grimaced and panted heavily. Viett glanced at me and sighed in irritation.

— Speak.

— From the rubble of the Ruimbert Hotel that collapsed in the bombing a few days ago…

Lieutenant XX paused for a moment before speaking in a subdued voice.

— The body of Crown Prince Minute has… been discovered.」

* * *

PART 1.

Chapter 7. The Sea That Praises Me

It took a long time to find Minute’s whereabouts, but the suspicions surrounding his death quickly subsided.

War is when hundreds of people die every day. Minute wasn’t the only one who lost his life in the bombing that day. Including him, a total of nine people died, buried under the building’s rubble. Can we truly say that the value of their deaths is different from that of the royal family?

“It’s a common occurrence.”

Esca lit a cigarette as soon as he got into the passenger seat.

“Yesterday, half of a private school building was blown up. Do you know how many kids, who could be my son’s age, burned to death?”

“……”

“Stupid guy. He wandered the rear so diligently because he was afraid of gunfire… The world finds a way to kill those who are meant to die.”

His trembling hands clicked the lighter repeatedly. His hand kept missing the lighter, so the flame wouldn’t catch properly. Click, click. Esca, growing increasingly frustrated, finally threw the lighter in anger.

“Damn it!”

Viett sat in the driver’s seat, staring blankly at the distant accident site. The rescue work was still slow, even though the evening glow had already disappeared.

Soldiers dispatched by the Costonia government were busy moving around the building debris with lamps in their hands.

They said they hadn’t even started searching the hotel basement yet. Even if there were people who took refuge in the bunker, by now they likely would have died from starvation or lack of oxygen.

“M-My father has c-collapsed.”

Viett said as he lit Esca’s cigarette for him.

“They say his condition w-worsened due to the mental shock of l-losing my brother.”

“Damn. One disaster after another.”

Esca took a deep drag on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke forcefully.

“Isn’t that right, Your Highness Prince Viett?”