Oh, What an Easy Proposal - Chapter 2

The scenery outside the carriage window passed by slowly. Nigel crossed his arms and looked at the familiar streets with unpleasant eyes.

Nothing has changed, it’s so tiresome.

Despite being away from his homeland for 10 years, not even a speck of nostalgia welled up. The second son, returning to celebrate the birthday of his mother who had personally informed him that his position was merely that small island when entrusting him with a small principality. Moreover, she had sent just one invitation now after 10 years without a single letter. Yet why did he respond to that call? Because she was his mother? Or because he wanted revenge? Nigel found his own conflicted situation amusing.

“Your Highness, where shall I take you?”

Count Owen, Nigel’s aide, carefully asked while observing Nigel’s mood. Nigel was already fatigued from being surrounded by numerous reporters at the train station. Unnecessarily irritating him would only incur Nigel’s wrath. However, the answer he received was outrageously inconsiderate.

“Do as you see fit.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, do as you see fit.”

Nigel repeated the same words without even glancing towards Count Owen. Count Owen quickly opened his document bag with a troubled expression. A notebook organizing the Grand Duke’s schedule soon emerged. He hastily checked today’s schedule first.

It was too clean except for the evening banquet. Count Owen kept fidgeting with a pained expression. In fact, Nigel was scheduled to have an audience with the Queen on the day of his return to the kingdom. Until they received a reply saying that suddenly another appointment came up and they couldn’t meet. They were clearly and intentionally avoiding meeting with Nigel, which is meant to hurt his pride. Count Owen, who had been deliberating whether to convey this fact or not, finally came to a decision.

“I will take you directly to the royal palace, Your Highness.”

Nigel finally looked at Count Owen. He frowned his straight eyebrows and asked.

“What about Her Majesty the Queen?”

Count Owen lowered his eyes and answered with an expression that seemed to say ‘I knew this would happen’.

“A reply came saying that it would be difficult to meet today due to a sudden schedule. However, at the evening banquet…”

“That’s enough. My mother is such a remarkable person that she wouldn’t care whether her son returns or not.”

Nigel muttered, firmly cutting off Count Owen’s efforts. Her Majesty Queen Gragford, the respected one. A kind, merciful, and strong queen. But to Nigel, she was a mother worse than a stranger. It had always been that way since he was young, and it would be that way forever. So there was no need to be surprised anew. Unlike the indifferent Nigel, Count Owen was at a loss for what to do.

“Um, Your Highness…”

“Go and have a good long sleep. When else would you enjoy such prosperity? This is all thanks to the grace of our respected Queen.”

Nigel chuckled and patted Count Owen’s shoulder. Count Owen let out a sigh mixed with various emotions. The carriage sped quickly through the quiet streets of midday.

＊＊＊

Viscount Berthe sighed with a face that had aged dramatically in just a few days. Still, he loved Rosia enough not to break the time he spent with his only daughter. Rosia knew this fact well, which is why she eventually had to accept what the baron couple had said.

Even in the midst of this, she wavered, unsure of what was best for her father and brothers. Viscount Berthe didn’t even mention the current situation of the family, afraid that Rosia would worry. Rosia felt both hurt and upset by this.

What if, as the baron couple said, she married a wealthy nobleman? If she could help overcome this difficulty, how would it be? Could she remove even one of the many wrinkles on her father’s face?

“Rosie, what are you thinking about so deeply?”

When Rosia just stared at the viscount without saying anything, he spoke first. Rosia finally came to her senses and shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Father.”

“I heard that Baron Luther and his wife visited. They said they had something to tell you…”

It seemed that the baron couple had already talked about the banquet to Viscount Berthe before leaving the mansion. Her mind was already made up anyway. Yet it still didn’t feel right because Rosia needed more time than others to accept unfamiliar situations. Yes, that was the only reason. Rosia hesitated for a moment before slowly moving her lips.

“I’m planning to attend Her Majesty the Queen’s birthday banquet.”

Viscount Berthe frowned.

“…That’s sudden, Rosie. Aren’t you still weak?”

“But I can’t postpone my debut forever, Father.”

Rosia tried her best to speak as nonchalantly as possible. She smiled as usual and maintained a gentle tone. However, Viscount Berthe looked somewhat anxious and displeased.

“What did you talk about with Baron and Baroness Luther?”

“As always, it was advice for the Berthe family.”

“Rosie, you can be honest with me.”

“I want to go. I’m the only lady in the capital who hasn’t even made my debut at this age.”

“Really, you…”

Viscount Berthe sighed again, pressing his forehead with his hand. Then he firmly pressed his eyes, which were worn with fatigue, with his fingers. Rosia quietly waited for his words.

“Is it really just that you want to make your debut?”

The viscount’s voice had softened considerably. Rosia nodded slightly, slowly and gently.

“Yes, sincerely.”

“…Then we should prepare for your debut.”

Viscount Berthe smiled bitterly. It was a smile that even conveyed a faint sense of defeat. Rosia tightly grasped his hand, which was placed alone on the old table, and said,

“I can take care of it myself. You’re busy, Father.”

“At least let me choose the dress with you, my beloved daughter.”

The viscount covered Rosia’s hand with his other hand. His large and firm, yet rough palm completely hid Rosia’s soft hand. Rosia, who had naturally intended to refuse, gently smiled as she slowly transferred that warmth to her heart.

“Of course.”

She wanted to protect her father’s small pride.

＊＊＊

The interior of the spacious and splendid royal dining room was quiet. Only the occasional sound of clinking cutlery could be heard. Nigel kept his gaze lowered, moving his fork over his plate several times. Although it was a family meal after 10 years, there was no sense of joy or pleasant atmosphere to be found. Just silence, and more silence.

Nigel was somewhat enjoying this feeling. It was amusing, if anything, that he could make the queen of a country and the crown prince uncomfortable just by his presence. An ordinary person would have been more than sick of it, but Nigel, already accustomed to such treatment, found this situation laughable.

At that moment, Queen Gragford, who had been neatly cutting a thick piece of meat, opened her mouth for the first time.

“Thank you for coming, Grand Duke.”

It was an overly formal way of addressing a son. Nigel looked at the queen with a smirk.

“Of course I had to come, Mother. It’s a family birthday. Oh, or should I say ‘His Majesty the King’s birthday celebration’ is more fitting?”

Only then did the queen look at Nigel with a slight smile. But since she had barely lifted the corners of her mouth, it was an even colder expression. She changed the subject while dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

“How is the principality?”

“It’s thriving enough to do without me.”

“That’s good. It was worth entrusting you with the principality.”

The queen ended the conversation with that. As even the formality of exchanging words ceased, the spacious dining room fell silent again. Nigel was now bored. After scratching his mother’s nerves a little, he felt no need to stay in this place any longer. Maybe it’s time to get up and leave.

As if sensing his obvious intentions, Davion, who had been quietly moving his fork, opened his mouth as if he had been waiting for this moment.

“Have you not thought about marriage yet?”

To think this topic was still left, Nigel almost laughed out loud. Three years ago, Davion, who came to the principality saying it was Her Majesty the Queen’s order, had asked the same question. Marriage. While he himself had been holding out with an engagement for years, he urged Nigel to marry early. The reason was obvious. He probably wanted to pass the responsibility to Nigel. Nigel suppressed his feeling of disgust and chuckled.

“How could I go ahead of Your Highness the Crown Prince, who is still unmarried?”

“But I’m still the crown prince, and you’re already the ruler of a country.”

Davion, only a year older than Nigel, was always like this. A person who knows how to hide his malicious intentions behind the kindest smile in the world. And a person who doesn’t even try to hide his true colors from Nigel, his only brother. Nigel had to try not to be looked down upon by Davion. He tried not to reveal his weaknesses, suppressed his emotions by diluting them, and pretended to be light-hearted about everything. Although he wasn’t sure how effective those actions were.

At that moment, there was a commotion on the first floor. A new figure had appeared at the monotonous party. Davion and Nigel looked down simultaneously. Then, a loud announcement of ‘House of Viscount Berthe’ was heard.

A woman of small stature entered, receiving the gazes of people. Clear skin that might seem somewhat pale, hazel eyes that shimmered mysteriously as light penetrated them, and delicate shoulders stiffly tensed with nervousness. She was a woman who strangely drew attention.

“It’s Lady Berthe.”