Henrietta was led to a room where Hendrik was waiting. It was unclear whether he had drunk the tea yet or if it had been prepared in advance for her, but the table in front of his seat was already laid out neatly with refreshments.

Although not much time had passed since they had parted at the train station, seeing him again made Henrietta feel disoriented, as if much more time had passed.

She absently smoothed out Hendrik’s coat, which she had brought back to give to him.

As she did so, their eyes met and he nodded towards the seat opposite, indicating that she should sit down.

Despite his calm smile and kind eyes, Henrietta felt restless and confused.

What on earth should she say first?

“Have a seat.”

When she hesitated, unsure how to proceed, Hendrik gently repeated himself.

Only then did Henrietta manage to shift her focus from the blurred background behind him.

“Yes.”

She placed his coat on the chair to his left and sat down.

The hotel’s private drawing room was just as elegant as its exterior.

Although Hendrik generally gave a refined impression, his broad shoulders and strong build made him look less like royalty and more like a valiant knight from an ancient legend.

Nevertheless, he suited this ornate setting perfectly, whether it was the lace-covered table or the chairs with their delicately carved handles.

“Where are you coming from?”

“Pardon?”

After glancing at her briefly, Hendrik asked an unexpected question.

Was it just her imagination, or did his voice sound a little sharp?

It seemed like a question with an obvious answer, which made Henrietta pause.

“Are you coming from Schutzman?”

“No, I came from my house.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then he poured tea into the cup set before her himself.

The room was warm enough for gentle steam to rise from the cup.

“I heard your trip to Sersenfers wasn’t all that romantic.”

Henrietta watched his hands quietly and nodded.

“No, but thanks to you, I wasn’t cold.”

She replied, glancing at his coat.

When Henrietta spoke, glancing briefly at Hendrik’s coat, he smiled faintly in return. Henrietta smiled awkwardly in return and adjusted her posture.

“Your Highness.”

“Go ahead.”

“Prince William came to see me last night with a student from Hangderhood whom I sponsor. Did you hear about that?”

“Of course.”

As he answered, visible relief washed over Henrietta’s previously uncertain expression.

That morning, William had gone to the royal palace to speak with Hendrik in detail about what had happened. William always recounted events in full, even when Hendrik hadn’t asked.

However, this time, he occasionally paused mid-sentence as if deep in thought, taking a breath before continuing.

“I’m glad you already know. That’s actually why I came today. I heard that the Royal Family now has jurisdiction over Hangderhood, and that it was your direct order.”

“…”

“I was curious—so much of it didn’t add up that I started to wonder if I had just imagined the whole thing.”

Henrietta had to pause occasionally to calm her racing heart. She felt as though she were speaking in an unfamiliar foreign language.

She knew she should start by saying thank you, but her pent-up questions came out before she could stop them.

“Your Highness, was your involvement in Hangderhood just a coincidence?”

The words came far more easily than she’d anticipated, making her earlier worries about how to start feel almost silly in hindsight.

“It all just seemed a little too well-timed to be chance.”

Hendrik gave a slight shrug and smiled, curving his lips. The view of the drawing room, which Henrietta had just managed to focus on, began to blur again.

“It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“So are you saying that you investigated me?”

All she had said was that she was boarding a train to Sersenfers. There was no way he could have known that she was heading for Hangderhood, unless he could read minds.

“Well, since I didn’t have your explicit permission, you could call it an investigation. Though I must admit, the word does sound rather unpleasant.”

“Using a softer word doesn’t change the fact.”

Hendrik let out a small laugh and took a sip of his tea.

Despite his appearance being more suited to holding a sword than a teacup, he exuded an air of elegance, even at times like this.

This was in stark contrast to Henrietta, who couldn’t even bring herself to touch her teacup, instead clutching tightly at her skirt.

“If it was urgent and I didn’t have any other option, couldn’t you show me some leniency?”

“No matter what you might do concerning me, Your Highness, I could never presume to offer such a thing. Given that I’m still being scolded, I suppose the answer is no.”

Hendrik smiled lightly again and looked at Henrietta.

Meeting his blue eyes, which were now devoid of humour, Henrietta thought to herself:

She really should bow her head and offer her thanks right now.

That’s what reason demanded.

But despite that, words kept spilling out of her unruly mouth.

“I imagine it wasn’t hard for Your Highness to find out that I’m from Hangderhood. But there’s still something I don’t understand. According to Evelyn, the student from Hangderhood who came to see me yesterday…”

At the mention of Evelyn, a slight twitch passed over Hendrik’s brow. William had mentioned that name last night, too.

“Evelyn – that commoner girl.”

He mumbled, repeating the syllables with the same awkward expression he had worn when he first uttered a crude word at the age of thirteen.

“She told me that, shortly after I left Hangderwood, members of the royal family arrived at the school. Not the day after, but that very same day.”

Henrietta’s pale neck, barely exposed, trembled slightly as she exhaled.

“Did Your Highness know in advance that something would happen at Hangderhood?”

Hendrik looked at her steadily, his gaze deep and unreadable, as she carefully tried to catch her breath. Unable to inhale fully, her shoulders kept tensing and rising sharply.

“How was that possible?”

“Well…”

When Hendrik trailed off, Henrietta stared at him anxiously.

Still watching her, he took another sip of his now lukewarm tea.

“Because it’s easy to guess what a desperate man might do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He usually enjoyed tea, but this cup felt rough on his tongue and caused him to frown slightly. The porcelain cup clinked harshly when it hit the saucer.

“Listen, sweet, innocent Miss Henrietta. When a woman runs, a man becomes a hunter. The Duke of Schutzman is ruthless by any measure. You, on the other hand, are quite the clever prey. But even the cleverest prey has weaknesses. And you, my dear, have many.”

Hendrik swallowed the last part of his sentence as he recalled the expression on Robert’s face when he stepped onto the platform that day.

Just as love and hatred, two completely opposite emotions, come together to form ambivalence, the emotion reflected in Robert’s eyes was entirely different — something that didn’t mix with anything else.

It was an eerie tremble, born of a mixture of anxiety and madness. A man driven mad by fear would not hesitate to harm his prey. That was an easy conclusion to reach.

“Another hunter had entered the scene, so I assumed he’d set a trap.”

“A… trap?”

Henrietta felt her strength drain away at the sound of the unfamiliar word that she had never thought she would hear spoken aloud.

What more explanation did she need?

That was exactly how she had felt whenever she faced Robert over the past few days, like a rabbit caught in a trap, unable to move.

Was that why this man had helped her?

Because she was pitiful, trembling prey caught in a trap?

“By another hunter, were you referring to yourself, Your Highness?”

“From the Duke of Schutzman’s perspective, yes — undoubtedly.”

Henrietta silently acknowledged the answer.

“There’s something else I’m curious about.”

“Ask me.”

“Benjamin Arthur Jordy.”

“Who?”

“From the House of Count Jordy…”

“Ah, that scoundrel.”

Cutting her off, Hendrik nodded. A faintly cruel smile touched his lips.

“If you’re asking whether I was the one who held the Jordy family’s ship at the port, then yes, it was me. It was me.”

“But why?”

“If I have to answer, I’ll say this: it’s because I don’t have that much power yet.”

‘What did that mean?’

Henrietta felt as though she hadn’t fully understood a single word since stepping into this room.

“I thought about what to do, but that was the best I could manage given my current level of authority. I haven’t been back to the Empire for long, so I can’t afford to cause a stir.”

“I… see.”

“So I have to make it irreversible. Efficiently, of course.”

‘But why?’

Although Hendrik had answered most of her questions, he had not responded to the one she truly wanted answered.

However, it didn’t seem as though he was avoiding it out of ignorance; Henrietta was certain he was doing it on purpose.

This realisation made her throat tighten sharply.

“Do you offer such generous favors to any citizen?”

Her voice faded before she realised. Somewhere along the way, her hands had clasped together, her fingertips trembling slightly. Where his gaze lingered on her forehead, she felt prickles in several places.

What was this feeling?

“Your choice of words is interesting. ‘Citizen’, really? I didn’t realise people still used that word.”

“I had no better way to put it.”

“Still, why are you so angry?”

Startled, Henrietta quickly lifted her head.

“…Ah.”

Only then did she realize what that irrational, nagging feeling had been ever since she’d set out to see him.

Henrietta felt… sad. And that sadness had made her angry.

It was such a simple, childish feeling that she almost laughed at herself. To feel this way at a time like this was nonsense.

‘You’re mad, Henrietta.’

Once the vague emotion had a name, it became easier to bear.

She slowly stood from her seat. Her forehead no longer stung. Her fingertips no longer trembled.

“Of course not.”