A Day In The Grand Duchess’ Life (6)

“Are you saying the Grand Duchess suddenly left her post?”

High Priest Banie did not care about Henrik’s coldness.

“Yes.”

Henrik, too, took the High Priest’s interrogation without batting an eye.

“Is something wrong with Her Grace the Grand Duchess’s safety?”

The High Priest was persistent.

“It is not that, however—”

“Baron of Rens. Speak the truth properly. If Her Grace deliberately made herself absent, I would be truly saddened.”

Henrik trailed off, and the High Priest clung on.

Her words carried the suspicion: Are you pretending she is absent because she is avoiding me?

The High Priest was a noble figure.

So Henrik strongly wanted to send her away as smoothly as possible.

But with such blatant suspicion, it was hard to keep denying everything.

On top of that, Henrik—who had had his small taste of joy in life snatched away—was deeply upset.

“His Highness the Grand Duke… took her away in haste.”

Henrik said with a gloomy face.

“Who?”

“His Highness the Grand Duke—”

The High Priest pressed with a sharp expression, and Henrik recalled the true culprit.

“You mean the Grand Duke of Tessen abducted the Grand Duchess!”

High Priest Banie exclaimed heatedly.

“High Priest, abducted is a bit—”

Even if his lord was at fault a little—no, rather a great deal—Henrik could not simply listen to Reichardt, whom he had served for so long, being spoken of badly.

“With no prior appointment, no discussion, and suddenly whisking her away—if that isn’t abduction, what is?!”

Banie snapped, her voice laden with emotion.

“…”

It was exaggerated, but not entirely wrong.

Henrik secretly clenched at the ache in his gut.

“To think I was a step late to Reichardt… Damn it.”

The High Priest’s angelic face twisted ugly.

Henrik, who had been holding down his frustration, stared blankly as the High Priest strode down from the seat of honor.

A step late?

Juan, standing off to the side as well, hardened his expression.

“High Priest, I believe I just heard something extremely dangerous.”

Henrik said in a cold, flat voice, no longer dejected.

His straightened face was razor-sharp.

“Dangerous? Whatever do you mean?”

High Priest Banie dodged smoothly.

Her innocent-looking face was gentle and beautiful.

“It sounded very much like you were plotting to abduct Her Grace the Grand Duchess of Tessen.”

Henrik, who had spent his life looking at imperial faces, did not fall for that expression.

He pointed out her words and behavior.

“You misunderstand.”

The High Priest pleaded innocence with her beautiful face.

“High Priest, please show proper courtesy toward Tessen.”

Henrik seized the chance to get rid of this unsettling guest.

“Baron of Rens. Are you threatening me now? The Great Temple has urgent matters to discuss with Her Grace the Grand Duchess. I have heard that the Grand Duke of Tessen and the Grand Duchess took all of the beasts called Lusa that came from the Great Temple. The question of ownership requires serious discussion, so I spoke a bit harshly. I had no other intent whatsoever. Do you happen to know anything about Lusa?”

The High Priest hurriedly changed the flow of the conversation.

“My apologies, High Priest. I know nothing of such matters. However, I can only surmise that you may have harbored dangerous thoughts. I will report this to His Highness the Grand Duke and contact you.”

Henrik spoke as if the High Priest truly had.

“Henrik, are you threatening me right now?”

In her haste, the High Priest called Henrik by name, as she had since he was young.

“You misunderstand.”

Henrik replied politely, wearing a kindly face.

“Baron of Rens. The only reason I came here today is because Reichardt grew up so willful thanks to you coddling the Grand Duke!”

“Willful, you say. His Highness merely had his adolescence arrive a bit late.”

“Good heavens, Henrik. What adolescence lasts past thirty?! I have long known you always take Reichardt’s side. Must you really tell Reichardt that I misspoke for a moment?”

Banie grabbed Henrik’s hand and stepped close as if she might beg.

Henrik, a former prosecutor, slid away with practiced grace.

“I am merely fulfilling my duty, High Priest.”

Henrik’s eyes shone with a gentle-looking sincerity.

“A useless steward who cannot even get Reichardt to wear colored clothes dares to speak of duty—how shameful.”

Banie struck precisely at one of Henrik’s sorrows.

To others it meant nothing, but to Henrik it was the most heart-wrenching criticism.

That Reichardt wore nothing but pitch-black or dull navy clothes was Henrik’s sadness—and his humiliation.

“…Once his adolescence passes…”

Henrik muttered weakly.

“What kind of adolescence lasts past thirty? That excuse is absurd!”

Banie lashed out again.

“I will convey your words to His Highness. Sir Juan, the High Priest says she will depart—escort her properly to the gate.”

With his stomach twisted by Banie’s repeated jabs, Henrik politely drove the guest out.

Few would dare be rude to a High Priest of such rank, but Henrik did not hesitate.

With a heavy blow to his pride as a steward, Henrik feared nothing.

“Yes, my lord.”

Juan stepped to High Priest Banie’s side.

Her cloaked guards bristled as if they would resist, but the moment Juan laid a hand on his sword, their momentum softened.

“I will see you out.”

Banie noticed her guards’ reaction and followed Juan’s guidance.

“I will be going, then.”

“Take care on your way.”

Henrik offered a proper bow toward the High Priest’s party.

Evening came, and the sky stained itself an elegant violet.

A fine-looking couple entered a shop that was about to close for the day.

Clink.

At the sound of the bell on the door, Oliver, the bakery owner, turned around.

“Welcome.”

Oliver watched the well-dressed man and woman with uneasy eyes.

At a glance, they were not the sort who came to the back streets.

They probably had wandered this way after the shops on the main street closed early.

The cold, composed-looking woman seemed like the type to glance once at a shabby baker and pass by.

Since the greeting had been pure reflex at a customer’s entrance, Oliver did not expect an answer.

“Hello.”

But the woman with the cold face smiled with her eyes and returned the greeting.

When curves softened her frosty, delicate features, her impression became gentle in an instant.

It was a miraculous change.

When the woman—whose age was hard to guess—let out a smile, the refinement and chill vanished, replaced by something soft and bright.

Even being generous, she looked only about twenty-one or twenty-two.

By contrast, the man who greeted with a mere nod at her side looked, even at the youngest estimate, in his late twenties.

Still, anyone could tell they were a couple.

If the woman was the sort who disarmed people the moment she smiled, the man looked like someone born stern and noble.

Oliver wondered if there had been rumors that some foreign royalty had come to Haime.

Not all royals would be beautiful, of course, but the man’s face was so perfect it looked like an idealized prince drawn in a children’s storybook.

“How many should we buy?”

The woman with the miraculous smile turned to the man and spoke.

It felt as if a single piece of her smile made the area brighten.

“As many as you want.”

The man, whose face showed no expression, answered arrogantly.

Yet the way he offered a faint smile toward the woman as he spoke made it seem like affection was spilling out.

“…”

At his lofty words, Oliver became certain.

Of course—kids from rich families.

He knew his grumbling was only jealousy, but it was hard to swallow the envy.

“Then we should buy one of everything.”

“Sure.”

At the woman’s sunny words, the man replied indifferently.

Oliver noticed it at once.

A rich bastard had snatched up a much younger woman with status and power.

A filthy world. A thief like that.

Unlike his inner whining, Oliver watched the well-matched couple with envious eyes.

“Could you wrap up some bread for us?”

Alicia said to Oliver.

“Have you chosen? Which ones would you like me to pack?”

Oliver smiled kindly.

Alicia smiled even more deeply.

“From here to there—please pack one of everything.”

Her bright face delivered an overbearing request as gently as a lullaby.

“Yes… Please wait a moment. I think I’ll need to bring a large bag…”

Oliver stammered.

He prayed that the surge of emotion would not leak out through his eyes or expression.

Rich brats!

This was a time to smile.

The amount in that one order was more than he had sold over half a day.

He tried to remember the spirit of service, but the bewildering request would not leave his mind.

‘From here to there—please pack one of everything.’

The woman’s talk of buying one of everything had not been an empty boast.

The man did not look surprised at all.

“Yes, take your time.”

Alicia said kindly.

Oliver moved creakily and spread open the two largest bags he had.

Breads of all shapes and colors dropped in, one after another.

The smile never left Alicia’s eyes as she watched.

“Here you go.”

Oliver held out the bags, stuffed full of bread.

Reichardt accepted them and was about to pay.

“I’ll pay.”

Alicia said, her voice full of consideration.

Reichardt stopped the hand that had been digging through his pocket.

Alicia was enjoying daily life at the Lilac Manor.

Buying things herself and paying for them was part of it.

Not leaving the payment to Reichardt in a modest shop was her way of considering him.

A noble would be more accustomed to daily life than imperial royalty.

“Here you are.”

Alicia held out two gleaming gold coins.

Oliver started to reach out, then flinched and froze.

Behind her, Reichardt gave a small nod toward Oliver’s wavering gaze.

It meant: Just take it.

“…Thank you, my lady.”

At Oliver’s respectful words, Alicia spoke breezily.

“Keep the change. We came late and bothered you. I’ll come again.”

Alicia offered a cheerful farewell and turned away.

“Just accept it. When my lady comes again, take good care of her—and please watch your words.”

Reichardt said calmly to Oliver.

He was clearly speaking with an attitude of respect.

And yet, hearing him, Oliver felt as if he was receiving an order from royalty.

“I will bear it in mind.”

Oliver answered crisply.

Reichardt gave Oliver—who bowed deeply—a brief glance.

“We will be going.”

The tone was impeccably polite.

But Oliver still felt as though he was being talked down to, and he could not lift his head under the pressure of the atmosphere.

Only after Reichardt left the shop could Oliver raise his face.

When he belatedly looked up, he saw the two heading toward one of the few secluded roads in Haime.

“Oh, that way is…”

He let out the words in dismay, but Alicia and Reichardt had already disappeared into the dark street.

Oliver paced by the window, even though he knew it would be too late to follow.

He was deeply grateful for the unexpected kindness the worldly-ignorant noble couple had left behind.

And so he swallowed his worry at their dangerous route.

Those two had to be outsiders.