“Two weeks from now?”

Ruben could hardly believe his eyes. The letter stated that the engagement would occur precisely two weeks from today. Even in a kingdom without longstanding traditions, specific protocols and courtesies were necessary for a royal engagement. Resolving all of that in just two weeks was an impossible feat, no matter how one looked at it.

The golden thread binding the letter’s envelope slipped weakly onto the desk. The royal messenger bowed his head deeply as if to suggest humility or perhaps to imply that there was no mistake in the message—or possibly to say that objections wouldn’t be entertained.

A quiet, disapproving click of the tongue echoed in the room. Ruben didn’t scold the person who made the sound in this situation nor reprimand the messenger for delivering such absurd news. He simply glanced once more at the letter and dismissed the messenger quietly.

“Two weeks, Your Grace. It’s impossible.”

“They must be in quite a rush,” Ruben replied, cutting off his butler Will, who bristled at Enoch’s interjection. Earlier, Enoch had annoyed Will by clicking his tongue visibly in the presence of the royal messenger.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I’m sure Your Grace feels the same as I do.”

Enoch’s tone was sarcastic, and Ruben used to this sort of situation, didn’t respond. Will, however, couldn’t stand Enoch’s constant interruptions.

Five years ago, the young boy Ruben had taken in from the streets had refused to open up to anyone in the household except Ruben. Two years later, Ruben, impressed by his abilities, appointed him to an administrative position in the household. In just two years, Enoch had become the administrative aide of the ducal residence. After meeting the saintess, he revered Ruben and the saintess as his saviors but remained cold to everyone else. In short, he had no manners.

“It’ll be a simple ceremony, but we should still prepare as best we can.”

“At this rate, Marquis Caros won’t even be able to attend.”

Ruben’s hand, which had been sorting the letter indifferently, froze. Marquis Veron Caros had been Ruben’s guardian ever since he lost his parents as a child. In other words, he was one of the few people Ruben held dear.

An engagement ceremony where he couldn’t even invite a father figure—it almost made Ruben laugh. Even those forced into arranged marriages could have their families present. How fitting it was of this royal family, who saw no value in considering others’ circumstances. Perhaps this was typical of royalty, or maybe it was only this kingdom’s royalty; either way, it wasn’t surprising.

“I’ll request they allow us more time to prepare for the wedding.”

“Your Grace.”

“It’s in two weeks. Do your best to get everything ready.”

Ruben silenced Will’s objections with a single remark. Once his master spoke, there was no reversing it.

It was two weeks ago, and there was a mountain of work to uphold even the bare minimum of decorum. There was no time to delay. After asking permission, Will left the room.

“You have the same look in your eyes as if watching a commoner child being sold off.”

Ruben, now alone, looked directly at Enoch as he said this. His eyes, a deep forest green, had an intensity that could unnerve people without conveying any emotion. Enoch’s face reddened as he clenched his fists in protest.

“Are you in a different situation?”

“Even if I were, would you accept it?”

“Your Grace!”

Leaving Enoch with words too difficult to counter, Ruben ignored his protests and continued reading the rest of the letter. At a certain point, his expression involuntarily twisted in displeasure.

“What could it say to make you react like that?”

“….”

“Could it be news from the princess? I thought it was strangely quiet for such a hasty engagement. Has she written something unreasonable?”

Enoch caught that fleeting change in Ruben’s expression and, like a hunting dog closing in on its prey, asked in a low, fierce voice.

Ruben, on the other hand, responded dismissively and calmly.

“No, nothing significant. His Majesty has commanded me to visit the palace tomorrow to discuss some matters.”

“Nothing significant? You don’t even know what he’ll say.”

Ruben gave Enoch a long, steady look—a warning not to overstep. Enoch closed his mouth and clenched his fists quietly, seething with frustration.

Enoch was an excellent administrator and aide but occasionally went too far. Moments like this, especially involving discussions about the royal family, were understandable considering his past. But that didn’t mean his behavior could always be excused.

Yet, his sarcasm wasn’t entirely misplaced this time.

***

“Please say that again.”

“After the engagement ceremony, bring my sister to your estate.”

Even as he dropped this bombshell, Xeroth remained perfectly calm. In fact, his demeanor could only be described as shameless.

Ruben couldn’t believe what he had heard. If his hearing wasn’t failing him, this was a suggestion he found utterly unacceptable. That someone would so brazenly suggest expelling the only princess of the royal Bailey family from the palace was absurd.

“How could I possibly bring Her Highness, the one and only princess of the Bailey royal family, into the humble Effenberg estate? Besides, to bring her to my home before the marriage itself is concluded could be seen as a great disrespect to Her Highness. Please, Your Majesty, reconsider.”

At this, Xeroth flashed a cunning smile as if he had anticipated Ruben’s resistance and responded quickly.

“No need to worry about her. It was actually my sister’s suggestion.”

Ruben was momentarily at a loss for words. Helia wanted to come to his estate? Despite only an engagement, without being formally married? The same Helia who couldn’t care less for formalities and despised anyone outside of royalty?

Seeing Ruben’s confusion, Xeroth’s expression held a glint of triumph. Now resting his chin on his hand, the king appeared even more relaxed.

“Even so, having an engaged woman stay at her fiancé’s residence so suddenly goes against decorum and won’t look appropriate.”

“I’m the king, am I not? Who would dare complain?”

Xeroth looked at Ruben with sly, piercing eyes, like a snake ready to strike. He wasn’t even trying to hide his desire to remove Helia from his sight as soon as possible. The king was prepared to counter any objections Ruben might raise.

‘He’s clearly set on this,’ Ruben thought.

He sensed there was no way to refuse. Xeroth—or Helia—was intent on wrapping him in their grasp and not letting go.

Though no part of him wanted to comply, Ruben bowed his head to end this conversation. Then, after giving Xeroth the answer he wanted, he exited the audience chamber.

‘Is she planning to watch over me directly now that an engagement isn’t enough?’

It was an unreasonable demand. Why were they so intent on entangling him like this? Was it that she couldn’t bear to wait any longer now that she finally possessed what she had wanted for so long? He didn’t know—and he had no desire to learn.

With two weeks left until the engagement ceremony, Ruben had thought he might visit Helia for a conversation after his audience, but he turned back without a second thought. Not a single trace of his footsteps remained in his wake.

✥✥✥

At that time, a small tea party was being held in the Rose Palace gardens. Helia Bailey was the sole attendee.

“Your Highness.”

A breathless maid rushed over, struggling to catch her breath as she called to Helia. Helia, who had been savoring a warm sip of tea with an angelic smile, instantly frowned. Noting her sudden change in expression, the maid lowered her voice as much as possible, trying not to let it tremble.

“A message just arrived from the Solar Palace.”

Helia’s eyes flashed. This was the news she had been waiting for. Her fierce expression softened again, and her golden eyes narrowed sharply at the maid. Only the maid, who knew the content of the message, could do nothing but bow her head and tremble like a quaking aspen.

“The Duke of Effenberg has just finished his audience with His Majesty and returned home.”

“Returned home?”

Helia’s voice, filled with annoyance, tore through the air. Her previously softened expression hardened once more, and the maid flinched, bowing as low as she could.

The sharp sound of her teacup clinking against the saucer pierced the silence.

“He’s so determined to avoid coming here, right?”

Her murmuring voice was as cold as a winter night’s wind. The maid began trembling even more, visibly shaken.

She couldn’t predict what trouble might arise. Having been assigned here just a week ago, she was only a trainee maid, and the princess’s notorious habit of frequently dismissing her maids had already reached her ears.

“Bring me some writing paper.”

The maid quickly left, almost as if she’d been waiting for the chance. Helia watched her retreating figure with a sullen glare, then sighed and directed her gaze forward again. Her golden eyes stared blankly into space.

“You were always like this….”

It wasn’t anything new.

It had been ten years since he last came here. Any expectation that he might come today had long since evaporated, leaving her heart as barren as a desert, devoid of anything beyond grains of sand.

There was a time when she clung to hope, surviving each day thinking, *Maybe today,* and *If not today, then tomorrow.* It took a painfully long time to finally admit that this hope had always been despair. She needed ample time to go from “today” to “today, too,” and eventually erase even that “today, too” from her mind to the point where she could accept that he had indeed rejected her.

Yes, it was nothing new. And yet, a corner of her heart felt as empty as the chill of the northern winds. Could it be that she still had a sliver of hope that hadn’t crumbled away completely? Was she indeed that foolish?

A feeling of self-loathing washed over her—a feeling she’d experienced at every moment since meeting, knowing, and then parting from him, and as she pined for him. This feeling had come to her without fail, and this time was no exception.

“Here it is, Your Highness.”

The maid who had gone to fetch the writing paper pulled Helia out of her ocean of thoughts. The tray, holding the paper and a quill pen, trembled slightly. With a stony expression, Helia took up the paper and pen without a word of thanks.

‘If you don’t come to me, I have no choice but to summon you.’

Helia began to write. She could already envision Ruben’s expression hardening upon receiving the letter. Perhaps he would crumple it and toss it into the fireplace. But it didn’t matter. She was already used to his hatred. She could endure even his disdain as long as she could see him.