42.
A moment later, the two moved to the drawing room prepared within the Princess’s chambers.
After serving the tea, the maids excused themselves. For some unknown reason, they did so with playful, knowing smiles.
“……Please, help yourself.”
Philomel gestured toward the steaming cup.
“Thank you.”
Nasar spoke the words, yet he made no move to reach for the tea. Instead, he stared at Philomel’s face for a long, lingering moment before finally speaking.
“I am truly relieved that you are safe. I was so worried about what might have happened to you, Your Highness……”
His voice was thick with emotion, as if he were witnessing a family member returned from the dead.
“……Yes. Well, that’s how it turned out.”
Philomel replied dryly.
‘I did exaggerate by saying I would die if I returned to the palace.’
Recalling their conversation in the carriage, she felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of embarrassment. Had she known it would come to this, she wouldn’t have made such grand claims.
“How is your body? I was truly surprised when you suddenly fainted.”
“Don’t worry. I was just tired, and it was a sudden shock. There is nothing wrong with me.”
“I see. That is a relief.”
Yet, his gaze remained fixed on her, meticulously scanning Philomel from head to toe. Feeling the weight of his attention, Philomel changed the subject.
“Come to think of it, Nasar, you arrived here from Sangen quite quickly. Did you use movement magic?”
“Yes, that is correct. After you disappeared, I headed to the Magic Tower, convinced I had to reach the capital as soon as possible.”
“The Magic Tower? Isn’t the Magic Tower closed to the public for the time being?”
She recalled the warning a broker had given her when she was nearly scammed in front of the tower.
“I was wondering if I should invoke the name of Abridon to gain entry, but……”
A great noble family could create exceptions anywhere.
“I happened to meet a group of mages headed to the capital nearby. I traveled with them.”
“You were lucky.”
To cross paths with a group of mages heading to the capital, and to have them be skilled enough to utilize movement magic—it was an incredible coincidence.
“What was more amazing was that they were also on their way to the Imperial Palace.”
Nasar continued with a light laugh.
“Two mages belonging to the Imperial Palace suddenly resigned yesterday morning, and these people were coming to apply for the vacancies after receiving word.”
“Two Imperial Palace mages? That’s unusual. The conditions are excellent, so most people don’t choose to leave.”
In truth, she didn’t care, but having nothing else to say, Philomel feigned interest.
Nasar replied earnestly.
“I think so too. It is a pity that three people arrived for two positions; one of them will not be able to work here.”
“If they are talented, there are many places outside the Imperial Palace that would be eager to hire them. It will be fine.”
“Our family is also always hiring skilled mages.”
“I see.”
“…….”
“…….”
The silence she had anticipated finally settled in.
‘I’ve ruined it.’
Philomel cursed inwardly, unable to find the right words. In the past, they could have sustained a conversation for hours over social gossip, but it felt awkward now.
‘Because I am no longer a princess, nor am I Nasar’s fiancée.’
She realized she didn’t truly know what it meant to live simply as ‘Philomel,’ rather than as the Princess. Her life had been a pursuit of being a perfect royal whom no one could criticize, coupled with a secret plan to flee. All the while, she kept her true, fragile self hidden deep within. That mask had been her only protection against the threat of death.
‘But now that the fear of death is gone?’
Having cast off the mask, she couldn’t recall the face beneath it. She didn’t know how to converse with Nasar, even after knowing him for over a decade.
‘What kind of person was I……?’
That was when—
“I didn’t know you kept a cat.”
Philomel’s spirit, drifting in the void, snapped back at Nasar’s words.
“A cat?”
“Isn’t that a little one you are caring for?”
A silver cat, perhaps having followed her out, was sitting in the corner of the drawing room.
“Go away.”
Philomel waved her hand, signaling it to leave. A real cat would be one thing, but a human eavesdropping on her private conversation was an intolerable breach. The conversations she’d had with the Countess and the maids were unavoidable, but she hadn’t intended for this one to be overheard.
“Meow.”
The cat sluggishly meandered out of the room. It might have been her imagination, but its eyes seemed slightly narrowed, as if it were pouting.
“The cat understands human speech. It is almost like a person.”
*Well, it is a person.*
Philomel swallowed the thought and changed the subject.
“……Drink your tea before it gets cold.”
As he lowered his head to reach for the cup, something caught her eye.
“Nasar, stay like that for a moment.”
“Yes? Oh, okay.”
Nasar let out a dazed sound as Philomel stood and approached him. His fine, golden hair tickled her fingers, and she could feel him holding his breath.
“Stay still.”
Philomel gently pressed down on his shoulder. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
“There. This was stuck in your hair.”
Philomel laughed softly, holding up small, crushed leaf fragments. Nasar stared at them blankly, then reached up to touch the back of his head.
“……I was in such a rush that I didn’t check my appearance. I apologize for showing you such a sight.”
It seemed he had come straight to her upon arriving in the capital, without stopping at his own home. Had any of his servants seen the leaves, they surely would have pointed them out.
“I thought the Young Duke was always perfect, but you have a side like this too.”
Philomel teased him with a grin.
“……I usually pay attention to it.”
Her joke caused Nasar’s handsome face to turn red as a beet.
‘He must be incredibly embarrassed.’
She had noticed it when he borrowed money in Sangen; he was a man easily shamed.
“Ah, do I smell, by any chance? I’ve been riding for more than half a day……”
Nasar sniffed his own clothes, fidgeting anxiously.
“What a foolish mistake……”
Self-reproach was embedded in his low, muttered voice.
“I apologize, but I will take my leave now. I shall send word properly and visit you again.”
She wanted to say that he smelled like nothing but a refreshing scent of grass, but he was already standing, clearly flustered.
“I will definitely return, so please wait for me.”
Nasar bowed and stepped out of the door.
‘Why is he like that? Well, whatever.’
Philomel was about to clean up the teacups herself, not wishing to call a maid, when—
“Your Highness.”
Someone poked their head out from beyond the half-open door. It was Nasar. He asked with a worried face, “You won’t go anywhere else while I am gone, will you?”
The puppy-like expression—as if he were whimpering in fear that his master might disappear—was somewhat amusing.
“I understand. I won’t go anywhere until you come back, so you may go.”
In any case, as Leguin had said, she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to, at least not until the book arrived.
“You are making a promise.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you!”
With his face glowing, Nasar replied energetically and vanished.
Philomel felt a strange sensation; Nasar had an unexpectedly clumsy side. To come all the way to the Imperial Palace simply because he was worried about her—she had assumed his sense of duty as a former fiancé was the primary reason, but she felt a flutter of excitement nonetheless. Even without an engagement, couldn’t they call this a friendly relationship?
However, her thoughts on Nasar vanished as she faced a more immediate problem.
“How am I supposed to clean this up?”
Now that she wasn’t a princess, she felt a sudden impulse to clean up after herself, but she didn’t even know where to take the tea set. If she rang for the Countess or the maids, they would insist on doing it for her, and she wanted to avoid that.
Philomel carried the tray with the teapot and cups, wandering the hallway in search of someone she could ask, when—
“Oh.”
The moment she stepped outside, she made eye contact with a maid of an unfamiliar face. Her posture—standing perfectly still—was far too suspicious to be someone merely passing by.
Philomel’s eyes narrowed.
“What were you doing here?”
“Princess! Oh, no, that, um…… I apologize!”
“I asked what you were doing.”
“That, well……”
The maid’s inability to answer, combined with her frantic fumbling, made her appear even more suspicious.