The impromptu tea time with Josef left Amelia flustered in many ways.

She was surprised that he drank tea without a single complaint about the small table or the low chair relative to his height, and she also realized for the first time that he could chat about the weather and compliment the taste of the sweets, just like ordinary people.

Helen, who saw Josef for the first time, seemed to accept him as the stereotypical crown prince and maintained a calm demeanor throughout. However, Amelia continued to steal glances at him with a look of curiosity.

Even when he left the room, saying he wanted to explore the mansion, the same curiosity followed. It seemed that he had finally noticed, as Josef spoke up out of the blue.

“Why?”

“…Pardon?”

“Do you have something to say?”

Walking along the corridor, Amelia stopped in her tracks under Josef’s gaze. Embarrassed, she quickly made an excuse.

“…No, Your Highness. I was just worried that you might be too busy.”

“Today, I have plenty of free time.”

“…I see.”

Amelia nodded, and Josef kept walking. With each step he took, the floorboards occasionally creaked.

“There’s quite a bit that needs work.”

Josef said this while looking up at a dusty chandelier or tapping on the railing.

The mansion, including the party room, kitchen, and bathrooms on the first floor, had about twenty rooms. With only Betty and Helen to help, they could barely manage to keep up with areas Amelia mainly used, like her bedroom and the parlor. The building wasn’t exactly falling apart, but it did seem to need repairs here and there.

Amelia looked down at the central hall from the second-floor hallway, where the entrance led. She liked the quiet mansion, where no unfamiliar people came through those doors all day. But this wasn’t her mansion to own. She had no authority to keep out the servants who would come and go for repairs.

Josef gradually moved toward the inner part of the mansion. Passing by Amelia’s bedroom and the parlor, he opened a middle door, revealing another space. Doors dividing the corridor two or three times hinted that the crown princess’s bedroom was about to appear.

“…It’s quite spacious.”

This was Amelia’s first impression as she stepped into the crown princess’s bedroom. She felt an obligation to add some praise, but all the furniture was covered in white linen, leaving her at a loss for words.

The room, waiting for its new owner, was so pristine it could make an uninvited guest feel small. It was at least twice the size of the bedroom where Amelia stayed. The bed and sofa in the center were imposing in size, and even the window on one wall was taller than Amelia herself.

“The window faces the back of the castle.”

Josef said, lifting the linen from the furniture, as if inspecting its condition.

Looking at the rectangular window frame that stretched along the wall and finished in a triangular peak, Amelia, recalling the lake, walked toward the window.

The large window offered a view of the lakeside, where daffodils danced. Though it was a bit distant, she could clearly see the sunlight glistening on the water and the graceful flight of birds.

“It’s beautiful…”

The lively scene, brimming with the essence of spring, felt like it brought the scent of flowers to her nose. It was a stark contrast to the quiet inner courtyard she saw from her bedroom. Amelia decided that the view was the best feature of this room, far surpassing any furniture.

While Amelia was lost in the midday spring scene with a smile on her face, the bedroom remained completely silent. She hadn’t realized this for quite a while, until she felt the strange quiet from Josef, who hadn’t said a word. Turning around, she felt an odd tension.

“…”

He was watching her from a few steps away, his hand resting on the sofa with the cover only halfway removed. Surely he wasn’t curious about the view outside the window. Or did she look foolish to him, so absorbed in staring out the window and forgetting her role?

Standing there under his gaze felt awkward. Amelia slowly strolled near the window and lifted the cover from the nearest piece of furniture—a desk, just the right size for writing letters alone. There were even an inkwell, quill pen, and sealing wax.

“Your Highness, are you thinking of replacing the furniture as well?”

“What do you think?”

Thanks to the large window, which seemed to pull in all the sunlight from Olstein, the desk was in pristine condition. It didn’t look particularly extravagant but seemed sturdy.

“It seems fine to me, but…”

Amelia asked with a puzzled look.

“Shouldn’t Lady Marika’s opinion be taken into account, as she’ll be using this room?”

After all, Marika would be the one using it. The half-revealed sofa’s intricate embroidery, the silk canopy draping over the bed like a dress, and the painted ceiling all made for a lavish room befitting a crown princess. But whether it suited Marika’s taste, she would know best.

“…”

Josef, with his hand resting on the back of the sofa, gazed intently at Amelia rather than offering an opinion. There was something unsettled in his expression, almost confused. Amelia assumed it was because she hadn’t provided a clear answer.

“Was my response insufficient?”

As she asked with a worried expression, Josef shook his head.

“…No.”

Then, after pacing the room a few times as if hesitant, he spoke again.

“Let’s leave.”

“Understood.”

Amelia followed Josef as he headed toward the door.

* * *

“Your Highness! You were here?”

As soon as the chamberlain entered the mansion with an exasperated look, Amelia realized that Josef’s statement about having ample free time was untrue. The chamberlain, unrolling a scroll and listing document after document that required his signature, didn’t leave Amelia a chance for a formal farewell.

Heading to the parlor, Amelia watched the stained-glass windows in the hallway bathed in sunset hues. Seeing Betty and Helen focusing on their embroidery side by side made her feel as though an ordinary day had finally returned to her.

“Both of you worked hard.”

As she leaned back against the sofa, Amelia felt an overwhelming fatigue pressing down on her. Betty, noticing Amelia’s drowsy demeanor, asked,

“My lady, what brought His Highness the Crown Prince here?”

“It seems he’s preparing for the arrival of the Crown Princess.”

Amelia explained how Josef planned to redecorate the garden and had ordered repairs throughout the estate. Helen nodded in understanding.

“His Highness is indeed a meticulous person.”

Somehow, it seemed that Helen had taken quite a liking to Josef. Amelia held back from saying that his meticulousness extended to an exasperating level.

“You’re impressive, Helen, tending to both the Crown Prince and Lady Amelia. If it had been me, I probably would’ve shattered the teapot or spilled the tea.”

Betty said this in awe, noting that even a quick-handed, skilled person like herself would be nervous in front of the Crown Prince. Helen chuckled softly.

“No need to fret over something you haven’t yet faced, Betty. His Highness was considerate, even to an old woman like me,” Helen said with a warm smile.

“Next time, why don’t you attend to him?”

“Me? Is His Highness visiting again?”

Hearing Betty’s surprised voice, Amelia remembered Josef’s instruction for her to personally report on the estate’s condition. Creating tasks to burden Amelia seemed to be one of his amusements.

She thought it might be better to handle the repairs herself, even if it meant she’d likely hammer her fingers once or twice.

—

In the drawing room of Baron Chiaveri’s estate, Rose inspected the room, satisfied with the preparations for Amelia’s arrival.

The table was set with gold-trimmed teacups and plates, and roses, a rare breed in Olstein, borrowed from Marika’s greenhouse, adorned the room. Reflecting her father’s love for showiness, the space was filled with antiques and artwork from various countries.

Even as the renowned Brienne’s daughter, Amelia would rarely have seen such an extensive collection in one place. This setting perfectly suited Rose’s intention of humbling Amelia, whose pride had likely swelled after rejecting Bartholomew.

“My lady, Lady Amelia has arrived.”

A maid informed Rose, who replied curtly,

“No need to call her ‘Lady.’ Just say ‘Miss Amelia.’”

“Yes? Ah, yes.”

“And tell her to wait a little.”

“Understood….”

Though the maid hesitated, puzzled by Rose’s instruction to make her guest wait despite everything being ready, she eventually complied.

Rose stalled for quite some time, then finally allowed Amelia inside.

“Lady Rose, it’s nice to meet you.”

Watching Amelia enter, Rose felt a bit disappointed. She had been curious about Amelia’s reaction to being made to wait without reason… but Amelia’s calm expression revealed nothing to satisfy her curiosity.

“Welcome! Miss Amelia.”

Rose beamed, quickly taking Amelia’s hand and seizing the chance to size her up.

Her wavy brown hair was braided and pinned up to reveal her neckline, her large blue eyes bright. She was indeed delicate and pretty, though not especially distinctive—similar looks could be found in any social circle.

Yet the dress, which seemed rather expensive, suited her well, and there was something quietly captivating about her presence.

‘Does she have her own wardrobe staff? And those gloves seem quite costly.’

“…Lady Rose?”

Rose, lost in appraising Amelia’s outfit, finally let go with a pleasant smile.

“Apologies, Miss Amelia. I felt so familiar with you after hearing so much about you.”

“I see… is that so.”

Whether she picked up on the slightly pointed tone or not, Amelia returned Rose’s smile, allowing her to lead her to the table.

“Such a splendid collection.”

As Rose had hoped, Amelia looked around, admiring the paintings densely lining the walls. Rose, a bit smug, took her seat on the sofa and replied,

“My father has a passion for collecting. He has quite an eye for these things.”

“It certainly seems so.”

Though Amelia’s smile remained as innocent as ever, to Rose it appeared more like the mask of someone concealing ulterior motives.

“Miss Amelia,” Rose began, choosing to get straight to the point.

“Yes?”

“I have an older brother.”

“Oh… I see.”

“His name is Bartholomew.”

Amelia nodded politely, though her face showed mild curiosity. This reaction was expected—had she known this was the man the Crown Prince had scolded because of her, she likely wouldn’t have come here.

Just then, a knock sounded on the drawing room door, sooner than Rose had expected.

“Perfect timing.”

“Sorry?”

Ignoring Amelia’s confusion, Rose moved to open the door.

“Once you see him, Miss Amelia, you’ll understand.”

And as the door opened, Bartholomew stepped inside.

“Good to see you again.”

The moment he greeted her, Rose, sneaking a look at Amelia’s expression, was taken aback.

‘What is this?’

Amelia, whom Rose had expected to look horrified, remained calm.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if puzzled.