There was no attempt to hide it, the possessiveness clung to it plainly.

“I didn’t realize it myself until now.”

He pulled back just enough to speak, then pressed another brief kiss to her lips.

“I seem to be quite the jealous husband.”

“…Ah.”

The soft exhale that escaped her lips sounded as though the thought had never even crossed her mind.

“If I’d had a gun earlier, your friend wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

The chilling words were spoken lightly, a trace of playful mischief lingering on his face. He gave a small shrug, then placed several thick notebooks onto the table.

Thud.

The heavy sound instantly drew everyone’s attention.

Yet the person who had caused it remained utterly calm.

He never took his gaze off Henrietta as he spoke to Mark.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal… you say?”

Hendrick slowly turned his head and met Mark’s gaze.

Now that he thought about it, it was the first time he had properly looked him in the eye.

Though his face seemed gentle, his sturdy build gave him a quiet strength.

Placed beside Henrietta, the resemblance became even clearer, the sense that they had grown up in the same world, sharing the same years.

“Yes. I’m thinking of publishing what’s written in these notebooks as a serialized feature in Sidestone.”

Hendrick tapped the stack of notebooks lightly with his fingers, then slid them toward him.

“Take a look first.”

Though still struggling to grasp the situation, Mark accepted the notebooks Hendrick offered.

The sound of pages turning, faint and unsteady, filled the heavy silence of the room.

Henrietta, too, shifted her gaze toward the notebooks.

They were unmistakably familiar.

Her eyes widened.

“Th-this is…?”

They were the notebooks she had personally given to Evelyn.

Worn and slightly faded with time, they were clearly something she had gifted long ago.

Henrietta knew exactly what they contained.

Evelyn had often asked her to read them.

“They’re Evelyn’s notebooks.”

Evelyn had blushed deeply whenever she spoke of them, yet she had always hoped Henrietta would read them.

She had said she couldn’t help but write because she was so grateful for the love she had received from Bishop Thomason.

That memory rose vividly in Henrietta’s mind as she looked at the heavy notebooks.

“That’s right. They contain, in detail, the beautiful and devoted life of Bishop Thomason.”

On the day Hendrick had boldly told William he would make Evelyn the sister of the Crown Princess, he had gone to see her himself, to read the very writings that had moved the prince to tears.

Concern for the commoner woman whom William had so recklessly entangled had also driven him there.

But Hendrick’s worries had proven unnecessary.

Evelyn’s clear green eyes had shown not the slightest trace of wavering.

She was far too strong a woman, far more than William deserved.

“How did you come to have these, Your Highness?”

“Evelyn entrusted them to me.”

The diary-like writings had far exceeded Hendrick’s expectations.

They shone with the devotion, love, and unwavering faith of a single religious figure brought to life through Evelyn’s graceful prose.

It was enough to make even the beliefs he had long discarded begin to take root once more.

“You met Evelyn?”

“Yes. I’m thinking of making your father a Protestant.”

‘My father? A Protestant?’

They were words she knew yet somehow, she couldn’t grasp their meaning all at once.

Henrietta blinked her wide eyes in confusion.

“Then what you mean is…”

Realization flashed across her face, her eyes shimmering like water.

“You intend to elevate Bishop Thomason as a Protestant figure?”

Because of the fickle weather, her red hair had come loose, falling messily over her pale face.

Today, she looked unusually defenseless and for some reason, Hendrick didn’t like that at all.

He reached out and gently brushed her cheek once more.

She flinched slightly, her shoulders stiffening but she didn’t pull away.

‘When you look like this, how could I not feel uneasy?’

“Yes. I intend to make Bishop Thomason a hero of the empire.”

‘If you won’t be careful… then the whole world should know.’

‘That you belong to me.’

“A symbolic figure—someone who can bring comfort to the weary hearts of the people.”

The groundwork to appoint Thomason as archbishop had already been completed behind the scenes.

On the day of the Pearson Festival, he would take the vacant position.

“It won’t be immediate, of course.”

But if he were to replace Archbishop Osborne, why not also grant him the honor of being named a Protestant?

Hendrick tilted his head slightly toward Mark.

“That’s why I came to Sandot today, to find someone suitable to help carry this out.”

Among the candidates he had considered, Mark Ron David’s name had already been on the list.

“In my opinion, your friend would be quite fitting.”

“Ah…”

Even as Hendrick and Henrietta spoke, Mark couldn’t take his eyes off the manuscript in his hands.

“…This was really written by Evelyn?”

After some time had passed, Mark finally looked up at Henrietta with wide, astonished eyes.

She simply nodded in response.

“This is… incredible. I had no idea Evelyn possessed this kind of talent.”

Henrietta had always wanted to show Mark Evelyn’s writing someday. But he was already taking risks for her sake and she had never found the courage to burden him further by bringing it up.

“Well? Would you be willing to take part in this?”

Mark lifted his gaze from the manuscript and looked at Hendrick.

“My role… would be to publish this, correct?”

“We’re short on time, so it needs to go into the newspaper first.
Starting next week.”

Mark swallowed dryly.

Sidestone was the most influential newspaper in the empire.

Was it really that simple—to decide to publish it and have it done?

“So, Your Highness means to serialize this in the paper weekly… beginning next week?”

“That’s right. And before the Pearson Festival ends, we’ll need a book published as well.”

Mark briefly gauged the volume of the manuscript with his hands before speaking.

“I’d need to examine it more closely, but… I believe it could be made into a three-volume hardcover set.”

“There’s no need to release everything at once.”

“Then… you mean we can begin with just the first volume?”

Hendrick gave a small nod.

“If I were to acquire another publishing house of similar scale, how many copies could you produce before the festival ends?”

There was roughly a month left until the festival, and the celebration itself would last for another month.

Mark calculated rapidly in his head.

“…Three thousand copies. Yes—about three thousand should be possible.”

Hendrick ran his thumb over his lips as he considered.

“Good. That should suffice.”

“I’ll purchase all three thousand copies in advance. On the final day of the Pearson Festival, they’ll be distributed free to the crowd gathered in the square.”

If the book was well received, there would be no need for further printing. For commoners, books were a luxury, those who wished to read would copy the contents by hand and spread them themselves.

After that, Hendrick began to lay out the rest of his plan in calm, deliberate detail.

From the day the first hardback volume was released, the newspaper would stop publishing its instalments.

According to Hendrick, the second volume had to be released at the moment of maximum public anticipation.

Before the third volume was unveiled, he planned to influence public opinion and demand that Bishop Thomason be elevated to Protestant status.

He said that he would accomplish all of this before the end of the year.

“By the time the book spreads to the northern regions, Archbishop Thomason will already have become Protestant.”

It was most likely that a new Protestant would be born on All Saints’ Day, that sacred, holy day.

A heavy silence settled over the small reception room.

Hendrick was the only person who seemed to breathe easily in that space.

“Then… who will be credited as the author of this work?”

Mark’s voice, which finally broke the silence, trembled faintly.

“That’s a strange question.”

Hendrick let out a soft laugh.

“Obviously, the one who wrote it. Who else could possibly be the author?”

“But under imperial law, a common-born woman is not permitted to publish a book.”

“That’s why it’ll be released through the newspaper first. And the book? It will be published only because the people demand it.”

“I… don’t quite understand what you mean, Your Highness.”

“The law can be bent, if necessary. And that isn’t something you need to worry about.”

“….”

“More importantly, about that etiquette book.”

At the sudden shift in topic, Mark swallowed hard.

“Once Evelyn’s book is ready, I want the sales resumed. And this time, it should be published under my wife’s name.”

Hendrick’s bold proposal showed no sign of stopping.

Henrietta felt a faint dizziness and drew in a slow breath. She was certain—what she had just heard had to be wrong.

“You mean… to republish that etiquette book under my name?”

“That’s right. Isn’t that only natural?”

A fragile breath slipped past her trembling lips.

“How… could that possibly be considered natural?”

Her voice wavered, unable to hide the turmoil within her.