Chapter 34 – Nicknames
Lenoa held the letter in her hand for a while, immersed in a peculiar feeling that tickled both her body and mind.
Much time had passed. She barely managed to move her body and leave the office.
She intended to look for Kairan.
‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the Grand Duke.’
Kairan must have also received Grania’s letter. However, Lenoa felt an irresistible urge to show him this letter as well, using it as an excuse to meet him. Of course, the letter had left her somewhat flustered, but rather than being upset, she was pleased. That’s why her feet instinctively carried her toward him.
She arrived on the fourth floor in no time. Kairan was likely in his office as usual.
Knock, knock—. Even though she knocked louder than usual, there was no response from inside. She tried to open the door, but it was locked.
‘Is he resting?’
She knocked on his bedroom door this time, but again, there was no answer. If not the office, then the bedroom—he was usually in one of these two places. But this was unusual.
The fourth floor was deserted, and the evening’s darkness made the atmosphere eerie, sending chills down Lenoa’s spine.
She thought to ask Betier about his whereabouts, but just as she was about to descend the stairs…
“Your Majesty, the Queen!”
It was a familiar voice, though not the one she was searching for. Turning around, she saw John emerging from his quarters, rushing toward her. Catching his breath, he offered her a brief bow before speaking.
“G-Grand Duke Kairan left the palace before you returned, Your Majesty.”
“He left? Where? For what purpose?”
“His hometown, Grand Duke Kairan’s residence… … I mean, he went to the Blandi Ducal Residence. He said he was going to see his father there.”
The servants all referred to Kairan as the ;Grand Duke Blandi’. Hearing him say ‘Grand Duke Kairan’ felt strangely significant, even though it was just one servant addressing him by name.
Lenoa was curious about why John seemed to have grown closer to Kairan recently, but her priority was Kairan’s story, not John’s.
“I see… Did he leave any message for me?”
“Yes, he did.”
John hesitated before relaying Kairan’s message.
“‘I’ll be away for two days to visit my father, so please miss me… Ah, but don’t worry about me.’”
‘Huh…’
John’s voice trailed off, as though he were embarrassed by the message himself. Understanding his awkwardness, Lenoa felt even more stirred than when she had read Grania’s letter.
Kairan’s message sounded like something straight out of the romance novels she had often read in the royal library—words spoken by a lover embarking on a journey.
‘I didn’t know he could say such things.’
Lenoa let out an awkward laugh, an involuntary reaction to her emotions.
Lost in thought, she finally noticed John fidgeting nervously, as if worried he had delivered the message incorrectly.
After Lenoa’s usual kind dismissal, John quickly disappeared.
***
Instead of returning to her office on the third floor, she went back to her bedroom and retrieved a book from her drawer. Its title was ‘Elika’, a romance novel Kairan had personally borrowed and delivered to her a few days ago. She had completely forgotten about it due to her recent busyness with the Founding Festival preparations.
Remembering Kairan’s message, she finally began reading the book. Though it wasn’t work-related, it still felt like something she ought to do.
Even when Betier brought her tea and snacks, Lenoa didn’t spare them a glance, completely absorbed in the book.
As expected, Elika was the name of the novel’s heroine.
Born as the daughter of a viscount, Elika was set to marry Primo, the heir of a ducal house, in a political marriage. However, Elika fell in love with Louis, the second son of a baronial family.
A ducal heir and a baron’s second son—there was no need to weigh which was the more suitable match. The disparity between their families was immense, but the two didn’t care and secretly pursued their love.
On the eve of her wedding to Primo, the couple eloped.
Fleeing from Primo’s pursuit, they moved from place to place in the countryside, enduring countless hardships for each other.
When Primo finally found Elika, he begged her to return, promising to forgive everything. But Elika resolutely refused.
Accepting her true feelings, Primo eventually let her go.
Thus, Elika and Louis lived modestly but happily as commoners.
The story itself wasn’t much different from other romance novels. However, the trials and tribulations the couple faced—opposition from their families, hunger strikes, midnight escapes—were anything but simple.
Their journey to the destination of “marriage” was intensely captivating.
Even after finishing the final chapter and the author’s note, Lenoa remained immersed in the couple’s arduous love story.
Eventually, she snapped back to reality and glanced around her room. On a corner of the table, she noticed the cold tea and snacks Betier had left behind.
Having been too engrossed in the book to notice them earlier, she finally began eating the snacks. The tea was lukewarm, but the sweetness of the cookies and cake remained delightful.
As she savored the sweetness, a line of dialogue from the book resurfaced in her mind:
― Louis, even if I can never eat sweet treats like this again, I’ll be fine. Because the sweetest thing in the world is right here, beside me, you. And you’re mine alone.
― I feel the same, Elika. I love you.
It was from the scene where the couple met secretly the night before their wedding, whispering to each other in affectionate nicknames.
‘It was words sweeter than any dessert.’
Even someone like Lenoa, who didn’t know love, was deeply moved by Elika’s declaration—that the sweetest thing in the world was the one she loved.
“Kairan-oppa, you’re unbelievable. I wonder what you’d say if you knew the contents of this book.”
Lenoa decided that when Kairan returned tomorrow, she would recite Elika’s lines aloud to him. She was curious about his reaction.
‘Come to think of it… Elika’s name is quite similar to that of Queen Benecia.’
Lenoa thought of the woman she knew by name but had never met in person.
***
Late afternoon, when the sun was setting. The streets of Morris were quieter than the other regions passed since leaving the capital.
It must have been due to the recent wave of missing middle-aged men. Come to think of it, posters featuring a man resembling John could occasionally be seen through the carriage window. At a glance, it was clear that the portrait depicted John’s father.
‘He must still be deeply worried.’
Although he wasn’t used to using a hired carriage instead of a private one, there was no other choice.
It had been quite some time since he arrived in the Morris region. The last time he had spent this long in a carriage was three years ago, making this only the second time.
Just as he grew tired of watching the scenery outside the window, the carriage came to a stop, and the coachman announced their arrival.
‘Finally, I’ve arrived.’
The man adjusted the disheveled hood of his black robe before stepping outside.
He took a deep breath of the evening air. The coolness of the twilight breeze refreshed him, lifting his spirits slightly.
Once the carriage disappeared in the opposite direction, the man began walking.
To avoid suspicion, he had instructed the coachman to stop at a location some distance from his final destination. It was a troublesome precaution, but preferable to sitting idle in a carriage for hours.
After walking for about twenty minutes, the man in the black robe came upon a massive iron gate.
At its center was the plum blossom crest, the national flower and emblem of Celesta, engraved prominently.
As he drew closer to the emblem, a woman’s image surfaced in his mind.
‘She resembles the plum blossom, yet she’s more beautiful than any flower….’
The thought naturally formed words akin to those found in romance novels. A faint smile graced his lips as he walked, and soon the gate loomed before him.
On either side of the gate stood two guards. Though he had never met them, their attire marked them unmistakably as royal soldiers of Celesta.
As the man approached, one of the guards stepped forward.
“You don’t seem to be from Morris. What business do you have here? You cannot pass beyond this point.”
The guard scrutinized the man thoroughly. He was tall, wearing a navy robe, with black hair and dark eyes—this was the man’s appearance as observed by the guard.
The man steadied his voice and replied,
“I am a member of the Benecian delegation that came for trade negotiations.”
“A Benecian delegation? I thought they had all returned long ago.”
“On the eve of their departure, I received a message from His Majesty the King, which caused me to remain behind for a few more days.”
The man stated his purpose and urged the gate to be opened, but the guard’s suspicious gaze persisted.
The questioning continued relentlessly—his name, his date of birth, his hometown. However, the man had anticipated these questions and answered each one without hesitation.
‘Why don’t they just open the gate already?’
Though he answered smoothly, maintaining a composed demeanor was tiring. More than anything, dealing with someone of far lower status and rank than himself was a blow to his pride.
He vowed to impose some minor inconvenience on them once he returned and completed his task.
Just then, another guard approached.
“You must prove that you are truly from Benecia before we can grant you entry.”
The two guards, now united, coldly declared.
‘Another one to punish later.’
The man had prepared for such an eventuality. Reaching into his robe, he retrieved an identification card and showed it to them.
The guards examined the card closely under torchlight, scrutinizing every detail before finally bowing deeply to the man.
“My apologies. We didn’t realize you were truly from Benecia.”
The man let out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as the guards hurriedly opened the gate.
Creak. The heavy sound of the gate echoed harshly. The plum blossom emblem split in two as the iron gate swung open on both sides.
The man passed through the gate, heading toward Benecia.
When the sound of the gate closing ceased behind him, he finally lowered his hood and ran a hand through his hair.
Removing the black wig from his head, the man tucked it into his robe and began walking toward Bliss, a border territory connecting Benecia and Celesta.
After arriving in Bliss, he planned to find a suitable inn to stay for the night before heading to the capital territory of Bailey the next morning.
Thinking of the woman he held in his heart made him impatient. He already missed her—the one more beautiful than a plum blossom, who danced in his mind wearing an elegant dress.
‘When I see her tomorrow… would it be alright to call her Lena?’
The man, no longer black-haired but now red-haired, resolved himself as he straightened his disheveled hair caused by the wig. With that, Kairan continued his search for a nearby inn.
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