The Levant, which Brienne courageously sent out, gracefully returned to the harbor.

Admiral Licht brought back an order from Olstein: to build ten battleships.

“Your Grace, I am deeply ashamed.”

Admiral Licht’s face was solemn as he placed his commander’s hat over his heart—a stark contrast to his usual victorious demeanor.

“There is no fault in you, Admiral. I had no idea Olstein desired a navy either.”

Josef’s declaration about the need for an army had not been mere bluster. The order, bearing the Emperor’s signature, included instructions to report on the budget and timeline for constructing the battleships.

“What’s your opinion, Admiral?”

“Well… As someone who has lived his life at sea, I agree that a navy would strengthen Olstein,” Licht replied with a wry smile. “But I wonder if it’s feasible without experienced leaders.”

Admiral Licht explained that he had sailed the route between Sarnica and Olstein aboard the Levant, but despite the coastal regions now falling under Olstein’s governance, no captains or commanders dispatched directly by the Empire were present.

“Even if they delve into trade or form a navy, the Empire will likely have to recruit talent from other nations. That could lead to internal discord.”

In Licht’s analysis, establishing a navy seemed premature. Leonid shared this view.

In essence, it meant that even during shipbuilding, the Empire lacked experts to oversee the process.

‘This might actually be a blessing in disguise.’

“Admiral, proceed with the ship construction as ordered, but let’s observe the situation a bit longer. I’ll handle the report.”

“Understood.”

Though Licht nodded, he hesitated slightly before speaking again.

“Your Grace, I saw Lady Amelia at the harbor.”

“Did you?” Leonid’s face brightened.

Admiral Licht was deeply touched by Amelia’s gesture of laying her cloak over the muddy ground for him. He seemed moved by how much the young lady he had known since childhood had matured.

“Amelia has always been that way.”

She could stand to be a little more self-indulgent, Leonid thought. He had secretly wished for Amelia to grow up carefree and oblivious, enjoying her days at Brienne Castle without concern.

Yet his selfish desires had perhaps brought about their misfortune. His daughter had grown into a compassionate and thoughtful soul. In a foreign land where she was held hostage, such qualities would only serve as a whip to torment her. That was what Leonid feared most.

“She seems to be well-treated by the Empire.”

“That’s a relief.”

Leonid, knowing Licht was not adept at lying, gave him a faint smile veiled with polite sincerity.

“Lady Amelia carried herself with the dignity of a true daughter of Brienne.”

“…”

“My family and I will remain loyal to the Duchy of Brienne to the very end.”

This time, there was no deception. Even if the fleet were to hoist the Empire’s flag, Admiral Licht’s steadfast loyalty to Brienne as a sovereign entity remained unshaken.

Leonid felt the same.

—

“Betty!”

Betty, who had been oiling the tea table in the drawing room, looked up in surprise as Amelia burst in.

“Milady…?”

“Betty, come here.”

Amelia grabbed Betty’s sleeve, asking her to come and see the daffodils in the inner courtyard. Not finding her in her chambers, Amelia had assumed she was out and about—likely on a stroll.

Betty nodded in confusion and followed Amelia, still clutching the cloth in her hand. Although she had seemed low-spirited in recent days, Amelia was brimming with energy today.

“You’ve grown up all of a sudden,” Betty mused, remembering Helen’s words. Helen, who had helped raise Amelia in Brienne, noted that she seemed different now—less lighthearted and vivacious than before.

Perhaps it was the bitter cold of Olstein. Yet today, Amelia’s graceful smile, as she descended the stairs holding Betty’s arm, held a rare excitement. Betty thought Helen would have loved to see her like this.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on them during my walks. They’ve grown quite well,” Amelia said, her face radiant like spring blossoms.

Betty couldn’t help but think it was fortunate Amelia was in Olstein as a hostage. Had she been attending social events like other nobles, she might have caught the eye of some opportunistic lord.

The thought of Amelia becoming the subject of lewd knights’ teasing was unbearable.

“Look at this,” Amelia said as they knelt in the courtyard.

The daffodils had indeed grown, as Amelia pointed out. Among the rounded stems was one taller than the rest, bearing a tiny, pale green bud.

“You’re right, Milady. A flower will bloom here,” Betty said, pointing to the bud.

Amelia gazed at it, her expression softening. “You’ve grown well.”

In Olstein, daffodils are the first to bloom. The dry soil and mild late spring fostered their early growth.

This particular bulb seemed a bit ahead of its time. Still, it would likely grow without issue. Not wanting to worry Amelia, Betty nodded.

“I’ll let Philip know,” Amelia added with a smile. “He’s the one who gave me this.”

Betty recalled the day Amelia planted the bulb. Philip was unlike the rough men of Olstein—youthful yet dignified. Betty suspected he might be Amelia’s fiancé or something of the sort.

But Amelia’s face, when speaking of Philip, was always unreservedly pure, leading Betty to conclude they were simply close friends.

“We’re meeting tonight.”

It was the same now. Her radiant smile didn’t carry the expression of someone confessing to a secret rendezvous with a lover. Betty helped Amelia up and brushed off the dirt clinging to her dress.

“Then, let’s change into a more dazzling dress. I’ll braid your hair too.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Spring is coming, Betty thought as she watched Amelia smile.

* * *

Amelia interpreted Philip’s unexpectedly quick request for a meeting—despite his earlier noncommittal response of “I’ll think about it”—as a positive sign. Though immediate exile was no longer possible, she believed Philip’s desire to be with her hadn’t changed.

However, when they met outside the castle, Philip’s face seemed uncharacteristically anxious.

“Amelia.”

Philip appeared before Amelia, who had been puzzled about why the carriage he’d sent had dropped her off in a deserted part of town.

“Philip…”

Amelia had been about to mention that the daffodils he gifted her were about to bloom, but she ended up following him silently, led by his pale face.

“…Where are we going?”

Even when she asked, Philip didn’t answer. As the guards’ torchlights faded into the distance, wild grass brushed against Amelia’s feet. The path between the tall trees led to the cool entrance of a forest.

“Philip.”

Just as Amelia thought the moonlight looked a bit dim, she was about to stop Philip.

“Amelia.”

“Yes?”

“Shall we run away?”

Philip released her arm and turned to face her, suddenly blurting it out. His expression was earnest. Leaning against a cedar tree, Amelia took it all in.

“Let’s go somewhere where no one can find us. Maybe to one of those small islands in the kingdom, or even to the mountains. Beyond the northern ranges of Olstein, there are still regions untouched by continental law.”

Amelia’s blue eyes, framed by her blinking lids, reflected Philip as if he were gazing into a clear, unjudging mirror. Under her pure gaze, Philip felt the inadequacy of his own darkness and gave a faint smile.

“…It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Amelia,” Philip apologized several times, lowering his head, his face clouded.

“It seems the imperial family has learned about the loss of your asylum papers. Without prior notice, it became a situation ripe for misunderstanding.”

Philip explained that this revelation left both the Sarnican royal family and the Clavier household powerless to intervene in Amelia’s asylum. All his plans had lost their vitality.

“I’m not worthy of marrying you.”

“You didn’t propose to me because of some qualifications, Philip.”

Amelia stepped closer.

“You proposed because you love me, didn’t you?”

“I love you,” Philip choked, his voice trembling.

“I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to help you return to Brienne. I wanted to show you my family’s estate and mansion in Sarnica. I believed I could help you build a happy family, where you’d be cherished and loved.”

Philip had dreams that extended beyond what Amelia had imagined. Now, they were extinguished, reduced to hollow hopes.

“Now, I can’t promise you anything anymore…”

“Excuse me, but please leave. My lady is struggling greatly,” the head maid said coldly when Amelia had pleaded to be let in at the embassy gates. From her tone and expression, Amelia could read a firm but polite refusal. Mentioning Philip’s mother instead of Philip himself puzzled her at the time but now made sense.

Amelia had not only endangered Philip but also put the Clavier family at risk. The missing asylum papers, unseen but all too real, had made an unanticipated and unpleasant claim.

“Love doesn’t seem to matter, does it?”

“…”

“My love is useless in shaping your future now. It’s so pathetic…”

“It’s not.”

Amelia took out a handkerchief and gently wiped Philip’s tear-streaked cheeks.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard such a confession from a man. It was really admirable.”

Philip, on the verge of tears, let out a laugh.

“Admirable?”

“Yes.”

Very much so. Amelia held Philip’s hand and affirmed it repeatedly as if to reassure him. Philip silently listened. The sound of the spring night breeze brushing against the trees and grass was melancholy.

“I’m returning to Sarnica tomorrow,” Philip said softly.

Amelia nodded.

“I’ll stay here.”

She gazed up at the fragmented night sky through the tree branches. It wasn’t light or dark, but a numbing void. The moon seemed faint, as if unable to grant any wishes. Rather than praying, Amelia released her now unnecessary resolutions like floating lanterns.

“I’ll stay here and remember you. So, you don’t have to come back for me.”

“Amelia…”

“Don’t think of me and return. Go back to Sarnica. Fulfill your duties and protect your family, Philip. I’ll do the same.”

Amelia had made her decision. Staying in Olstein wasn’t some divine decree or prophecy. It was her own choice.

She couldn’t claim she’d never considered returning to Brienne with Philip’s help. But in truth, Amelia felt she hadn’t lost anything from the start. And so, she accepted staying at Olstein Castle as her own decision.

“You came here because of me. I came here for myself. Brienne is a part of me. So, Philip, now you must embark on your journey for yourself.”

“…”

“When I left Brienne, you should have gone to Sarnica. That’s what should have happened from the beginning. My stubbornness delayed that until today. Philip, don’t grieve too much and go back.”

Amelia’s demand for a farewell pledge was cruel, yet her beautiful face remained composed. Philip knelt before her, as one would before a deity, tears streaming endlessly. Amelia didn’t try to console him, merely standing by with quiet resolve.