“Thank you for today. I’ll go this way.”

Nigel and Count Owen, who had been bickering, both stared at Rosia simultaneously. Nigel’s brow furrowed.

“You’ll return in that state?”

“What?”

“Look at yourself.”

Only then did Rosia look down at her completely disheveled appearance. It was a mess beyond any word but ‘mess’. Nigel was the same. They looked just like children after playing in the mud. As Rosia lost her words and closed her mouth, Nigel bluntly said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Let’s go together. We can exit on the opposite side instead of toward the park.”

In the end, Rosia left in the opposite direction from Lake Park with Nigel and Count Owen before catching a hired carriage. The destination was Count Owen’s mansion. Since they couldn’t return in such a complete mess, they decided to wash up and change clothes first. Though the three rode in one carriage side by side, they didn’t exchange a single word. Only awkward air drifted slowly through the space.

Rosia was barely fighting off encroaching drowsiness. That’s when Nigel, who was wiping his mud-covered hands with a handkerchief, asked Count Owen as if throwing the words.

“Did you find the reporter?”

“Yes, but……”

Count Owen glanced at Rosia sitting opposite before continuing.

“That reporter left for the Southern Continent on assignment.”

“When?”

“Three days ago.”

“Someone spirited them away.”

Nigel frowned in annoyance. Rosia guessed that the ‘reporter’ they were discussing must be related to her as well. Otherwise Count Owen wouldn’t be watching her reactions. Her drowsiness fled instantly upon hearing that brief exchange.

“What reporter are you looking for?”

“The reporter who maliciously wrote the article about you and me.”

Nigel gave the expected answer. Rosia blinked slowly. Then did that mean it wasn’t Nigel’s doing? Just who, and for what reason, did such a thing? Rosia felt more confused than when she first saw the article. Nigel, perhaps with a stiff neck, tilted his head side to side as he asked Count Owen again.

“Did the newspaper say how they would handle it?”

“They asked if they could do interviews for a rebuttal article.”

“Interviews?”

“Yes. But they said they want to meet Lady Berthe and Your Highness separately.”

“Refuse.”

Nigel’s face showed he had no intention of accepting the newspaper’s proposal. Rosia felt the same. There must be a reason for meeting separately. Reporters and newspapers were the type who had little interest in conveying truth. They only focused on how to attract more attention sensationally. So there was no need to create unnecessary noise. Rosia thought Nigel’s judgment was correct. But Count Owen didn’t.

“But Your Highness, accepting the interviews might help us find out who commissioned the reporter to write such an incorrect article.”

“Forget it.”

“Pardon?”

“Touching an article that’s already spread as far as it can will only bring what could have been quietly buried back to the surface. Let’s just let it flow past.”

Nigel spoke firmly while returning the handkerchief to Count Owen. Count Owen nodded while tucking the handkerchief into his chest. From the start, it wasn’t a conversation seeking Rosia’s opinion. She was merely there by chance, and House Berthe didn’t have the power to fight against the kingdom’s largest newspaper. Somehow her tongue felt rough. Rosia looked out the window pretending not to know anything.

Not long after, the carriage stopped. Count Owen immediately opened the door and got out. The Grand Duke followed and held out his hand to Rosia.

“Get out.”

Rosia barely touched that hand and withdrew it as soon as she got down. An old mansion that seemed to have been built long ago stood tall. Count Owen walked ahead while adding an explanation that sounded like an excuse.

“This is where I lived when I was young. Since I left for the principality following His Highness the Grand Duke, only the caretaker occasionally comes and goes so it’s somewhat messy. I haven’t renovated it. There are only a few servants too. They must have all gone home by now.”

“I see.”

Rosia replied briefly. What kind of house Count Owen lived in and what it was like weren’t important matters to her. Rather, she was grateful to Count Owen for readily allowing her, who was no different from a stranger, to visit his mansion. The old iron gate creaked open. Rosia quietly thanked Count Owen who stood holding the key.

“Thank you for everything today, Count.”

Count Owen smiled awkwardly then glanced at Nigel. Nigel, who stood behind the two, stared at Rosia’s small back of head with no expression.

＊＊＊

She felt much better after washing with warm water. Count Owen had brought a women’s dress from somewhere. Rosia changed into the fresh new clothes and went to the living room. Having apparently washed as well, Nigel sat in front of the fireplace with his hair still slightly damp.

“I should go back now, Your Highness.”

Rosia said quietly while looking out the window. It was already getting dark outside. Even if she left right away, it would be late evening, so she needed to hurry. Just thinking about how worried her nanny must be waiting made her head throb already. Though she still didn’t know Betty’s situation, there was nothing more Rosia could do now.

She could only hope that as Nigel said, Leo Palena wasn’t someone who would harm Betty. If only it hadn’t rained, everything would have been fine. Only then did Rosia regret her actions. She should have been more careful. She had not only put herself but even Nigel in danger. She should have followed Nigel back from the start, why didn’t she? Rosia kept her gaze down, unable to face Nigel’s mocking expression. However, Nigel made no mention of the ridiculous events of today.

“A carriage is ready.”

“Thank you so much for today. And I’m sorry.”

Though Rosia apologized politely, Nigel didn’t answer. He just walked steadily and opened the front door for her. Rosia looked up at his impassive face for a moment. Golden eyes stared straight at her. Perhaps it had been quite an exhausting day for Nigel too, as fatigue bloomed across his beautiful face. Yet it couldn’t hide his exceptional beauty. Moreover, perhaps due to the remaining warm moisture, he looked somewhat dreamlike. Rosia found herself staring at Nigel for a long while without realizing it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Nigel furrowed his brow. Rosia snapped back to her senses and hurriedly pretended to look around the mansion interior.

“I’d like to say goodbye to Count Owen as well.”

“He went to handle today’s matters.”

Nigel replied indifferently and gestured toward the carriage with his chin.

“I’ll relay your thanks. You should go back.”

Before Rosia could say anything, the door slammed shut. She stared at the closed door with a bewildered expression, but no sound came from beyond it. It seemed Nigel Gragford was quite upset about today’s events. Understandably so. Rosia stood for a while in front of the unfamiliar mansion wearing unfamiliar clothes before finally getting into the carriage when she heard the coachman calling. The carriage sped quickly through the quiet streets as sunset settled.

Nigel crossed his arms and watched the carriage disappear into the distance. Count Owen, who must have returned already, entered the mansion. As if he hadn’t expected Rosia to still be there in the first place, he got straight to the point.

“Your Highness, you must return to the royal palace now.”

“And Her Majesty our Queen?”

Count Owen closed his mouth and watched Nigel’s reaction. He seemed to be considering how to relay the message. However, just from that response, Nigel could clearly guess what his mother had said and what expression she had worn. He let out a small laugh and muttered.

“She must be starting to find the sight of me irritating. Tell her I’ll return.”

“Your Highness.”

Though Count Owen called out as if upset, Nigel shook his head. Using this incident as an excuse — not only daring to leave Her Majesty the Queen’s company but acting on his own — she would have ordered him to return. In fact, if not for Davion’s influence, Nigel wouldn’t have even been able to meet his mother at this birthday celebration. Should he be grateful to have seen that proud and cold Queen’s face even briefly, or should he hate her? The emotions he had held long ago were already so diluted that barely a trace remained.

Nigel knew better than anyone why his mother hated her own son. Because he resembled his father, the late beautiful king. She both hated and loved the son who resembled the man who shed tears longing for another woman until his dying moment. Perhaps it was a wise decision to cast out her young son before going mad with those emotions. Better to remain as a cruel mother who abandoned her son than a mad queen.

It was also obvious and tiresome how Davion Gragford cleverly used this point to pretend to be a loving older brother to his exiled younger brother. To the point where Nigel despised himself for falling for such childish tricks every time.