When it came to Josef’s indifference to constellations, if Amelia were to be honest, her response would be, “I feel the same.”

However, the idea of voicing that she shared the same thoughts as him left her feeling oddly bashful.

“Perhaps it’s to make them easier to remember?”

After some deliberation, Amelia managed to craft an explanation. It wasn’t the most credible answer, considering how much she herself had struggled to connect the names of the constellations to their shapes and seasonal movements.

“It’s not like there’s an overwhelming amount to memorize.”

“…”

“It could be done in a day.”

Josef leaned forward, a curious look on his face.

For him, studying the dozens of constellations and their movements seemed to have been an effortless task—so easy it didn’t even warrant being called “memorization.”

“…It took me several days,” Amelia admitted quietly. She didn’t particularly enjoy studying, but she didn’t think she was terrible at it either. Yet here she was, confessing a weakness to Josef, which left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“You must have been scolded quite a bit,” Josef said with a faint smile.

“I was young, so I wasn’t scolded,” Amelia replied, shaking her head. Then, struck by a sudden question, she added, “Do people usually get scolded for things like studying? It’s not exactly a misdeed…”

His comment struck her as odd. Getting reprimanded for not memorizing something quickly or thoroughly enough seemed unreasonable to her.

Or perhaps Josef’s standards were simply too high? Given his ability to master constellation studies in a single day, he might have been showered with praise throughout his life and assumed that others must have endured punishments to reach his level.

“…‘Usually,’ you say,” Josef muttered after a contemplative pause.

“So that’s how it is for most people?”

He spoke as though he had just learned something entirely new.

Since Josef didn’t continue the conversation, Amelia simply sat next to him, silently watching the summer night deepen.

***

After the physician’s visit, Helen began to regain her strength bit by bit.

The doctor’s recommendation that she return to Brienne disappointed her greatly. She seemed to think her age rendered her unhelpful to Amelia.

Both Amelia and Betty took turns assuring her that her worsening condition was due to the climate of Olstein rather than any fault of her own.

Amelia was now enjoying a rare walk with Helen near the western part of the castle grounds.

The area lacked romance, with tall fortress walls replacing flowers and ponds between the trees, but its solitude, free from frequent foot traffic, made it much quieter.

“Will you be all right without me, my lady?” Helen asked, her face full of concern.

“No.”

Amelia smiled.

“I’ll miss you terribly.”

“…”

“But it’s far worse to see you unwell while staying here. That’s why I hope you’ll return to Brienne.”

“Thank you for saying so, my lady,” Helen replied with a bittersweet smile.

“It’s been nearly half a year since you came here,” she noted.

“…Yes.”

“During that time, I wonder if I’ve been able to provide you with any comfort as a companion…”

“What are you saying, Helen?”

Amelia chided her gently.

“You’ve cared for me so attentively in every possible way.”

“But I’ve failed to be of help when it truly mattered.”

Helen’s gaze grew heavy with regret.

“It’s a relief that Brienne hasn’t gone to war.”

Amelia stopped walking. Helen, as if anticipating the hardening of Amelia’s expression, nodded solemnly.

“So, you knew as well, my lady.”

“…”

“I assumed you wouldn’t, since you don’t visit the village often.”

“How… Helen.”

Helen’s composed demeanor only deepened Amelia’s surprise, making her stammer.

“How did you find out?”

“It was just last week. I overheard the servants talking in the castle,” Helen explained.

She had pieced together fragments of conversation about the delayed cargo ships caused by the Kut Navy occupying Brienne’s waters.

Perhaps the shock of the news had been partly why her health had deteriorated so abruptly.

“You didn’t keep it from me because you were unaware, but because you were worried about me,” Helen concluded.

“Yes… But so you knew. I’m sorry for hiding it.”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

Helen took out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

“To think you considered even this old woman’s feelings. How splendidly you’ve grown, my lady.”

Her tearful gaze brimmed with pride as she looked at Amelia.

“…”

But Amelia could find no joy in it.

The reason she found the praise burdensome was that it meant she could no longer be entirely honest with Helen. She could never confess that, in exchange for stopping the war, she had done something that was most unbecoming of a noblewoman.

“I can leave without worry now, my lady,” Helen said, sniffling.

Amelia responded with a silent smile, then resumed walking.

“Oh, before I leave, I must ask what color you’d like the curtains in your bedroom to be changed to.”

“The bedroom curtains were just changed recently, weren’t they?”

“Not here—at the bedroom in Brienne Castle.”

Helen spoke in a noticeably brighter tone.

“Even after you left for Olstein, I cleaned your bedroom every day, my lady.”

“In Brienne?”

“Yes, on the duke’s orders.”

“…”

“He instructed us to keep the room in its usual condition, so it would be ready for your return at any time. So, I’ve been cleaning it meticulously.”

Amelia lifted her gaze to the distant sky.

“I see.”

That was all she could manage. Anything more, and she felt she might cry.

Avoiding the midday heat, they had set out late, only to find the sunset already urging them forward. The two made their way past the courtyard bathed in amber hues, heading toward the Crown Princess’s residence.

Helen, who had been walking silently, was the first to speak.

“His Highness the Crown Prince was exceedingly gracious, even to a mere maid like me—providing a physician and a carriage.”

As she couldn’t directly convey her gratitude due to her lowly status, Helen requested Amelia to pass on her thanks in her stead, mentioning in passing that the Crown Prince seemed like a kind person.

“What do you think, my lady?”

“About what?”

“Do you think His Highness is a good person?”

Helen’s question gave Amelia pause. After a moment of silence, she replied.

“Yes, I think so too.”

Her lie was neither filled with the benevolence it might once have had nor tainted with malice as if it had never been benevolent in the first place.

It was simply gray—a hue devoid of any feeling.

Yet Helen, who Amelia expected to nod and leave it at that, stopped walking and pressed further.

“Really?”

Under her gray hair, Helen’s familiar, kind eyes gazed intently at Amelia. Her chest tightened, but she worked to erase any expression from her face as she asked,

“Yes… Why do you ask?”

“It’s just a presumptuous thought of mine,” Helen said softly as she resumed walking.

“But ultimately, what you think matters most, my lady.”

She left it at that, her words cryptic. Even if Amelia didn’t understand their meaning, Helen merely looked at her with the same affectionate gaze as always.

The Crown Princess’s residence drew closer. Today would likely be the last day Amelia spent alone with Helen in Olstein. She decided to fill the time with cheerful conversation.

Laughter would erase their recent burdens, if only briefly.

***

Josef stepped out of the reception room in the manor and into the corridor.

Meetings with officials were always unnecessarily long and tiresome.

Still, he found some utility in occasionally gifting them a pouch of gold coins or a box of cigars. Those who had been wary of the Emperor would then begin to cautiously reveal useful information to him.

The Emperor wanted Josef to appear as someone solely interested in waging wars, uninterested in governance. This way, the aristocrats who favored theoretical debates over practical action would grow wary of him, rallying public opinion to delay his ascent to the throne as much as possible.

Thus, Josef also needed to show them that the Crown Prince possessed both power and political acumen.

Today, he had heard something amusing.

“They say His Majesty intends to take a new consort.”

How many times had this been? The old Emperor, who had wept inconsolably over Katrin’s death, was still shameless in his escapades.

This time, rumors swirled that the new consort might be none other than Chancellor Konrad’s younger sister. Perhaps this would sow discord between the Emperor and the Chancellor.

“…”

Josef’s steps slowed as he walked down the corridor. Through the window, he caught sight of Amelia walking alongside Helen.

The setting sun lay softly on Amelia’s profile, her slender neck, and her delicate shoulders. With each step, a few strands of her brown hair caught the fading sunlight, glimmering like golden threads. Her beauty humbled anyone who beheld it.

Amelia was entirely his now.

Josef often held her in his arms to reaffirm this belief. The satisfaction it brought was far greater than he had anticipated—or perhaps his desire for her ran deeper than he had thought.

As Amelia passed by the window, she turned her head toward Helen, engaging in conversation. The proximity allowed her voice to carry clearly to where Josef stood.

“That was ages ago, Helen. Stop it—it’s embarrassing.”

Amelia’s familiar voice had a hint of laughter. The playful tone was unfamiliar to him.

Turning back to look at Helen, who lagged slightly behind, she laughed again. The sound of her laughter was light and tinkling, and Josef found himself chuckling softly in response.

As he lingered, her figure gradually faded into the distance.

The hallway grew silent once more, leaving Josef alone in the stillness.

It unsettled him.

Had Amelia ever spoken in such a tone? Had she ever laughed like that?

It was a side of her he had never seen—completely unlike how she behaved in his chambers. The sense of satisfaction he had once felt was quickly burned away as if it had never existed.

Once again, he found himself curious about her.