04. Her Majesty the Queen’s True Intention

From the study of Crimsworth Court, the inner courtyard was clearly visible.

Under a sky heavy with dark clouds, a girl ran through camellia trees laden with white blossoms. Her golden hair and bright red dress made it seem as if the sun shone only around her.

Having witnessed the entire scene, Jeremy could anticipate who would barge in even before the butler knocked.

“Lord Crimsworth, Miss Maude has arrived,”

Emil, the butler, announced from outside the door.

Jeremy didn’t put down the document in his hand. Even when the blonde girl flung the door open, he merely glanced up briefly.

“Jeremy!”

Maude exclaimed.

The butler closed the door and disappeared.

Jeremy returned his attention to the document.

On the desk lay a pile of applications collected on his behalf by the Count of Farraway, his Royal Academy classmate and a friend of the Lovedale family. Regardless of how the Count had posted the notice, the quality of the applications was uniformly poor.

Was it so difficult to find a lady between eighteen and twenty years of age with appropriate education and neat appearance? Then again, despite the kingdom having many resources, educational institutions for them were woefully insufficient.

“Jeremy!”

Maude called out again. He replied.

“I can hear you, so you don’t need to shout.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have gone to the station to meet you! When did you arrive at Crimsworth?”

The railway to Crimsworth, the territory of the Duke of Lovedale, had been laid just last year. It was the main station to open after Whittingham, the capital of the kingdom, so the opening ceremony had drawn enormous crowds. Maude had participated in the ribbon-cutting at that ceremony. Since then, she had been fascinated with trains and wanted to visit the station at every opportunity, even though she rarely had reason to ride one.

“Late last night.”

“Was there anything fun in Whittingham? What are you reading so intently? Look at me!”

Maude was a kind and upright girl, but despite the late Lady Crimsworth’s earnest wishes, she lacked a lady’s dignity. The governesses who taught Maude all invariably said, “Miss Maude is still young……” trailing off.

He looked her up and down.

Apart from dignity, Maude had inherited many of Lady Crimsworth’s good qualities. She was tall and slender with expressive gray eyes, and her hair, which waved behind her shoulders, was a luscious buttery blonde. In a few years, she would grow into a beautiful lady.

“Maude Rosalie Lovedale.”

Maude hunched her shoulders.

“Oh, don’t call me that! You’re going to lecture me again.”

“How old are you now……?”

Maude opened her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my birthday? I gave you three horses for your birthday!”

“Not your birthday, your age.”

“I’ll be seventeen in June! You promised to let me wear muslin dresses then. Don’t you remember?”

He rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

The Whitman Bridal School, which accepted only young ladies from the kingdom’s most prominent families, had an age restriction. At sixteen, she was two years too young.

If the Duke of Crimsworth exerted his influence, it might be a different story……

“By any chance, would you be interested in attending the school of the late Marchioness of Whitman?”

Maude shuddered at the mere mention of “school.”

“Ugh! Why would I go there?”

“I heard they’re recruiting to fill vacancies.”

“Do you want me to get married as soon as possible?”

He stared at his sister. Though taller than girls her age, she lacked maturity, and her face still exuded a youthful innocence.

Lady Crimsworth, who passed away from illness the year after losing her husband in a terrible incident, worried about her young daughter’s future until her final breath. The duchess, who had enjoyed an extremely happy marriage, believed that her daughter, born late in life, should enjoy the same privileges she had.

He was twenty-four, Maude sixteen.

Both were still too young for marriage.

He shook his head.

“……No.”

He abandoned his plan to use his influence as the Duke of Crimsworth to enroll his sister in the bridal school. He needed someone more discreet and prudent than Maude. Even if he managed to get her admitted, Maude would cause trouble and be expelled within a week.

That would incur the wrath of Her Majesty the Queen.

The girl’s expression brightened.

“Ah, is it because Lady Devon is there?”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to stiffen.

Lady Devon Whitman. The eldest daughter of the Whitman marquis family, whom Her Majesty had marked as his potential bride, was nineteen years old and had naturally enrolled as the first student at the school opened by the late marchioness.

The Whitman family was as venerable as the Harrows or the Lovedales. With the former marchioness, once the flower of Whittingham society, casting her glow, and Lady Devon added as an ornament, it was no wonder that ladies would pay fortunes to send their daughters to that school.

He denied it.

“It has nothing to do with Lady Devon.”

Maude anxiously asked again.

“……Could it be that Her Majesty ordered me to go there?”

“No.”

But it was related to Her Majesty.

Her Majesty wanted Jeremy to investigate Celestine Harrows, a candidate for the Crown Prince’s fiancée. Celestine was also a student at the bridal school. Jeremy had no way to approach her.

⌜Rosemary Harrows. The woman who gave birth to Celestine might have been Rosvalt royalty. Those mongrels are all born with peculiarly shaped birthmarks. If Rosvalt blood flows in Celestine, she too would have such a mark.⌟

⌜If it’s a matter of examining her body, wouldn’t His Highness the Crown Prince be the most suitable person?⌟

Though Lady Celestine had just turned twenty, was the Crown Prince so inept that he couldn’t even hold hands with someone who was practically his betrothed?

By eighteen, noble young ladies made their debut in society. Their mothers or chaperones would faint if they knew the precarious level of dalliance that occurred during the spouse-hunting process without crossing “the final line.”

Nevertheless, it was the fate and duty of a Whittingham society gentleman to provide these virgins, who had spent their lives behind firmly closed study doors and reception room screens, with a thrilling sense of liberation.

Her Majesty dismissed his suggestion with a rebuke.

⌜Behave yourself, Jeremy.⌟

As conflicts of interest with neighboring countries, including Rosvalt, intensified, the royal family no longer pursued alliances with other royal houses. That was the surface explanation, but in reality, it was finally acknowledging that the infamous hereditary disease of the Lester dynasty was the product of centuries of intermarriage among the royal families of the Elderum continent.

Still, families that could form marital ties with the royal family were limited to dukes, or at the very lowest standard, counts. Within these limitations, there couldn’t have been many candidates for the Crown Prince’s bride.

But was Celestine the only candidate for Crown Princess……? The shortage of suitable brides could also be solved by Her Majesty bestowing titles upon the fathers or brothers of maidens she favored. That was one of Her Majesty’s few powerful privileges.

In Jeremy’s eyes, Her Majesty’s purpose did not seem limited to removing Celestine from the Crown Prince’s side.

Upon this realization, he demanded the truth from his aunt. He deserved to know, as he was being tasked with the dishonorable job of examining the body of his cousin’s fiancée, who might become Her Highness the Crown Princess.

⌜It’s about the incident at the War Office last month.⌟

His aunt never spoke plainly at once. The outline of the incident that Jeremy extracted from his aunt over two hours was roughly this:

Last month, a young captain at the War Office committed suicide. The reason was that he had been questioned for negligence in managing confidential documents. Since even the motive for suicide was known only to a few, those who knew what the documents contained and what had become of them could be counted on one’s fingers.

The confidential documents contained content that could determine the nation’s future. It was suspected that the Duke of Harrows had stolen documents that could potentially reignite war with Rosvalt if made public.

And, summoning a noble of ducal rank on espionage charges without solid evidence was politically very, very dangerous.

This clarified Jeremy’s task. To add weight to the Duke of Harrows’ charges, evidence that his only daughter Celestine had enemy blood was essential. Celestine’s mother, Rosemary Harrows, was already deceased.

……He still couldn’t see why the Crown Prince couldn’t verify Celestine’s body himself.

⌜We must also protect Celestine’s reputation.⌟

Though Her Majesty said so, what she truly wanted to protect was likely Reginald’s reputation. As she wished, Reginald was as pure as snow. He had never been near a scandal and danced equally with all ladies within a 30-yard radius at parties. His conversations were as identical as if delivered by a machine.

Jeremy’s impression of this was simple.

‘Boring fellow.’

“Jeremy.”

Maude called her brother again. He didn’t answer immediately.

In Maude Lovedale’s eyes, her brother possessed a truly lofty and detached quality—whether he deliberately cultivated this charm or was naturally so, she couldn’t tell. And because of that detachment, his charm was further amplified in a virtuous—or vicious—cycle.

He handled most of his duties as a nobleman with that indifferent face, and his attitude toward those around him was the same; even for someone as close as Maude, it was rare to penetrate his true feelings. This quality also made him always appear relaxed and superior to others.

In reality, he was superior in many ways. While Maude had mainly inherited her mother’s good qualities, Jeremy had equally inherited his mother’s face and his father’s physique. No woman failed to notice his honey blonde hair that shone brighter than Maude’s, his slightly darker and shadowed gray eyes, his tall stature, and slender figure.

His sharp facial lines harmonized exquisitely with his delicate features, somewhat resembling Maude herself, but his gaze was serene, and when he pressed his thin lips together, he even gave off a cold impression.

Maude knew that women lined up desperate to receive even that cold gaze. Even the fact that Her Majesty had marked Devon Whitman as his potential bride didn’t dampen their enthusiasm.

Additionally, he was the lord of Crimsworth, the largest estate in the central region, and the head of the Lovedale family. The woman who married him would become “Lady Crimsworth,” the Duchess of Lovedale, and enjoy wealth, power, and honor by his side.

That was why ladies dominating Whittingham society kept sending the girl invitations to concerts and exhibitions. Of course, Jeremy didn’t welcome his sister’s frequent visits to the capital.

So Maude carefully broached the subject.

“Jeremy, you know. There’s a charity bazaar at Whittingham Garden this weekend.”

“And……?”

“Berenice……” She quickly corrected herself. “I heard that if the weather is good, Her Highness Princess Berenice will also attend. As you know, Her Highness rather likes me.”

Unlike her brother Reginald, Berenice couldn’t escape the Lester family’s misfortune. Because Reginald was so perfect, unfortunate Berenice’s disability stood out even more.

However, Maude preferred the honest Princess over the sometimes inscrutable Crown Prince. Honestly, she had privately thought that Her Majesty favored the Crown Prince too much.

When Jeremy smiled slightly, the coldness disappeared from his face.

Ah, if he showed that smile to Devon Whitman, she would immediately bend her pride.

Maude felt regretful. Of course, as his sister, she was exceptionally privileged to see such smiles occasionally.

“So, Lady Maude Lovedale will personally attend and grace the occasion with her presence?”

“If the Harrows and Whitmans are all going, it doesn’t make sense for the Lovedales to be absent.”

“Ah.”

Maude thought her brother had reacted to the name of his fiancée—not yet officially, but since Her Majesty had arranged the engagement, the girl firmly believed Devon would become her future sister-in-law—but the timing of his barely perceptible raised eyebrow was slightly earlier.

“Then I must let you go.”

“Can I take the train?”

Maude asked.

He nodded.

“I’ll tell Emil to reserve tickets.”