“If I were to ask you to visit your estate someday — would you come with me?”

The oranges they had picked were loaded onto a separate carriage, and on the ride back to the manor, the sun had begun to set without their noticing. The sight of that dusky sky brought to mind the round, perfectly ripened oranges, and a smile had just begun to steal across her lips —

When Rafez posed the question. Half in jest, perhaps. Or perhaps not.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I found myself curious — what sort of place is the estate you always wanted to live in?”

“……I’m not sure.”

Lacy turned her head, letting her gaze drift away from his.

Come to think of it, sharing a carriage with Rafez no longer felt strange. Without quite realizing when it had happened, sitting across from him and exchanging conversation had become something close to ordinary.

Growing accustomed to him — to him and his house — was never something she had wanted. Not now, and not ever.

She felt it instinctively: she ought to pull away. And yet, without meaning to, she found herself asking the question inwardly.

Whether that was even possible. Whether it was truly possible, to keep him at a distance.

“Are you tired?”

“No, I’m fine. The cold is fully gone, too.”

“Then rest tonight, and tomorrow we return to the capital.”

“All right.”

Lacy was mildly surprised by Rafez’s words, but she agreed — and felt, somewhere in a quiet corner of her heart, a wistfulness she couldn’t quite name. And that feeling was startling her, even to herself.

Wistful? Over what — leaving the Grand Duchy?

That can’t be right. It shouldn’t be.

But she could not deny what had already taken root. This place, so different from the capital — warmer, in every sense — and its people. She could not deny them.

Like a sky gradually deepening into the red of a setting sun, am I being dyed by that light? That amber glow of orange?

“So — you won’t answer my question?”

Lacy looked at Rafez’s blue eyes.

Eyes she had found difficult to meet. Eyes she had not wanted to meet. And yet sometimes, she would look directly into them — precisely so that she might feel it more acutely, that awareness of him.

Was that what this was, even now?

She couldn’t tell.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Lacy turned away again. It felt different from before — a different reason, this time, why she found it hard to look at him.

A future with Rafez. A later. It was something she had never once allowed herself to think about, and there had been no cause to, no reason to. That was simply how it was.

But if she were to think about it now — well. Could she still deny, with any certainty, that there would never be one?

“……Perhaps, someday —”

It might not be impossible.

Lacy swallowed the rest.

By the time the sun had fully set and night had properly fallen, they arrived at the manor — and Graine came out to receive them. From the look of things, everyone inside had already finished dinner.

“My, you’ve brought back quite a haul!”

Behind Rafez and Lacy, the servants filed in from the carriages, each carrying crates filled with oranges.

“The Grand Duchess picked some herself, as well.”

“What? Lacy did? Is that true?”

“No, I simply — the oranges looked so lovely, I couldn’t help but try picking a few.”

Graine smiled at Lacy. There was still a touch of awkwardness there, but she seemed to be settling in, little by little.

“Well done, Lacy. Picking oranges yourself — rather fun once you try it, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I had a wonderful time, thanks to you.”

Lacy nodded, her face bright.

“In any case, I must get these made into a cake right away. Tomorrow, we’ll have a proper tea party — all of us together. What do you think? A lovely idea, yes?”

“That does sound lovely, but we had planned to set out for the capital early tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“A short holiday is holiday enough, Mother.”

Rafez’s tone was gentle but firm.

And Graine knew it, of course. That he was a busy man — a Grand Duke — and that his coming down to the estate at all, spending even this much time here, was already more than she had any right to expect. That it was never strange when he announced he would be leaving.

And yet — knowing all of that — watching him prepare to go again still left an ache she couldn’t quite suppress.

***

“Hah……”

Graine sank into her chair with a sigh as she returned to the room. Louis, who had been reading the newspaper, glanced up at her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Rafez says he’s leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Does he? Nothing to be done about it.”

Louis gave a small nod, though his expression turned thoughtful.

“But if he goes back to the capital now, who knows when we’ll see him again.”

“Nothing to be done about that, either.”

“Is that really all you have to say?”

“Well, I —”

Graine shot to her feet and fixed him with a sharp look. Her own son they were talking about — and all he could offer was nothing to be done about it?

“Never mind. I’m done talking.”

Just then, the door opened and Leo stepped in. Graine swept past him without so much as a backward glance. Leo stood there, flustered, his eyes darting between the doorway she had just exited and Louis.

“Has something happened, Your Highness?”

“No, nothing much. Rafez says he’s leaving — that’s all there is to it.”

“Ah…… already. Though I suppose he can’t afford to be away from the capital too long. From what I hear, there’s never any shortage of work. Still, it’s only natural that the Lady should feel the loss.”

“The position of Grand Duke has always been that way. Nothing to be done.”

Louis simply shook his head. Then he spoke.

“Leo — where is the Princess right now?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Find her and bring her to me quietly, without Rafez knowing. I have something to say to her.”

He was the one seeking out Lacy. What could he possibly have to say to her?

Leo blinked, caught off guard.

***

“You wished to see me, Your Highness?”

A dark night.

The last night in the Grand Duchy.

When she had first come down to the estate, she could not see what lay ahead. But the Grand Duchy she had actually encountered was nothing like she had imagined. It was as though what had once been invisible had begun, just slightly, to come into view.

And just when it seemed everything here had come to a quiet, uneventful close —

“Princess.”

It was a form of address she felt she hadn’t heard in some time.

Even through the darkness, Louis’s blue eyes gleamed — sharp and unyielding. Like a cold, still sea.

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning, so I thought I ought to see you at least once. I have something to say as well.”

“……Yes.”

“I won’t mince words. I don’t know whether Rafez has mentioned it, but I intend to arrange for a mistress in the near future. The woman in question is someone you know.”

A mistress.

“Would that be the daughter of Count Valerian?”

“It would.”

It was sudden — and yet the moment she heard the word, Lacy knew at once. Mary.

“Rafez likely hasn’t told you, so I’m telling you now. Better to know in advance, I thought. Not that knowing will change anything — but still.”

Louis spoke as though it were already settled.

Rafez already knew.

And knowing that — he had still brought her to the Grand Duchy, called her his wife, held her in his arms……

Had that all meant nothing? Then why?

“In any case, it’s hardly a matter that concerns you.”

“No, I suppose not. And yet, Your Highness — you seem to have been rather preoccupied with it. With the fact that I hold the position of Grand Duchess.”

Lacy watched Louis with an unreadable expression, the corner of her mouth curving at an odd angle.

The words — and that expression — made Louis bristle.

“What did you say? You think I’m arranging a mistress because I feel threatened by you?”

“Are you saying that isn’t so?”

“Of course it isn’t! What are you, exactly? What a remarkable delusion. The mistress is for the matter of an heir!”

“Ah, I see. But tell me — if it is a mistress, and not I, who bears a child of House Felista, do you truly believe His Majesty would recognize it?”

“What?”

Louis was struck silent. That faintly contemptuous expression — and those dark eyes, barely visible through the darkness, yet somehow piercing straight through him — set his nerves on edge.

No matter how warmly Graine had treated her as Grand Duchess. No matter how quietly Lacy had kept herself all this time.

She felt it in her very bones — that in the end, she was still the Princess of House Lennon.

“What does it matter whether the Emperor recognizes it? You stand in the house of the Grand Duke! House Felista does not bow to the Emperor’s whims!”

But even as Louis raised his voice, Lacy’s composure did not waver by a fraction.

And at those words, a proper smile finally rose to her lips. It was as though she were seeing the House Felista she had always known, laid bare before her at last.

Yes. This was precisely the answer she had wanted.

Better to expose your claws than to watch every step, guard every breath, and keep them hidden. Show it plainly — that intent to betray the Emperor, that will, that blade aimed squarely at the Imperial back!

Lacy smiled, and spoke.

“Very well. But tell me — is not House Felista itself descended from Imperial blood?”