Confession (4)

In Alicia’s memory, Harry wasn’t much different from how he was now.

He was like a personified “easygoing charm.”

If you left Harry alone in a room full of women, laughter would erupt within a minute.

If you left him among a group of men, he’d make a best friend in less than ten.

Even if you abandoned him in a completely foreign land, he’d have dinner plans with someone by that evening.

Harry was the kind of man who made friends regardless of class, age, race, or gender.

His network stretched across all levels of society.

During the first round, when Harry was being considered as the heir-apparent, the Rain family was in economic distress—because of the political war with the Barker family.

Harry, using any means necessary, activated all his connections to pull funding from shady places.

Though he could chat and laugh with anyone within ten minutes, the Rain family’s elders pushed hard to reject him as successor.

They accepted the money he brought in, but denounced his methods as vulgar and unbecoming.

Despite his social talents, as the designated heir, Harry was left to drift on the fringes of the household.

“Write me letters.”

“Letters?”

Maybe Harry’s talent for making friends outside was because he didn’t quite fit in at home.

“Every five days.”

At Alicia’s request, Harry blinked.

“Ev—every five days? Alicia, my little sister… are we dating?”

“No.”

“Right? Then what kind of siblings write to each other every five days?”

Harry gave a soft, genial smile, as if nothing could rattle him.

His expression seemed to radiate pure charm.

He had a gift for making others smile just by smiling himself.

Alicia smiled back at him.

“Harry.”

“Alicia.”

Harry’s smile deepened a little.

Alicia smiled more broadly and said,

“Are you dating Felix?”

“……”

“Uncle Francis, then?”

“……”

Harry’s smile froze at Alicia’s question.

-A—Alicia.

Harry tried to call her name.

His mouth formed the word, but the sound wouldn’t come.

He seemed so flustered he couldn’t speak.

“Or perhaps Sir Joachim…”

Alicia turned to glance at Joachim, trailing off.

“I’ll write the letters.”

Harry blurted it out.

If he didn’t agree, she might really get serious and lash out.

Alicia smiled with satisfaction.

“Once every five days.”

“Using your own brother as a spy… you’re a scary one, Alicia.”

“Spy? That’s a bit much.”

Though her voice feigned surprise, her expression was completely calm—a look that clearly said, “You understood perfectly.”

Harry stared at Alicia, whose words and face were totally at odds.

“Those letters better not be full of nonsense, big brother.”

Harry was skilled at filtering truth from lies and manipulating connections.

He could sift truth from falsehoods others wrote.

In hindsight, Marquess Rain choosing Harry over Felix as heir wasn’t entirely wrong.

Though it met strong resistance within the house, Harry’s political tact arguably outweighed Felix’s steadfastness.

Granted, Felix’s steadfastness had its value too—especially once succession changed and everything exploded.

“Alicia.”

Harry gave her a smile that said, “You can’t control me that easily.”

Alicia didn’t say anything, but she felt both pity and frustration toward him.

She had envied his innate charm and ease with people.

In the first round, her encounters with suitors and orders from the head of the house to build relationships—

Harry was largely responsible for those.

Felix’s network was used too, but in these matters, Harry’s influence was more effective.

After the Gregory Barker scandal broke, both had been furious and took the lead in the confrontation.

Still, the resentment remained over the problematic connections he had brought in.

“They say the peaches from Juma are delicious, Harry.”

“Juma…”

Harry understood Alicia’s sudden remark instantly.

“Have you ever been to Juma?”

“I’d like to.”

Harry wasn’t the type to cling to pride.

“I don’t forgive mistakes, brother.”

“What do you mean by mistake, little sister?”

Alicia glared at him with full confidence.

Harry only gave a sheepish smile.

Though neither said anything more, Alicia’s violet eyes seemed to spew curses.

“Try making some decent friends, brother.”

Alicia’s whole face radiated disappointment.

“My friends are decent!”

Harry was offended.

The moment he replied, Alicia’s eyebrow arched the same way it did when she looked at something beneath her notice.

Just as the two were about to start bickering again, a cool breeze swept through the gallery.

The doors opened, and the butler entered, approaching the Marquess.

After whispering something to him, the Marquess nodded with a slightly surprised look.

“His Grace the Grand Duke has arrived.”

At the butler’s announcement, the gallery fell into silence.

Moments later, the doors opened wide, and Reichardt stepped inside.

His silver hair was disheveled, suggesting he had ridden here on horseback.

“Greetings to His Grace the Grand Duke.”

The nobles in the gallery bowed at the appearance of royalty.

Alicia bowed as well.

Unlike usual, Reichardt removed his leather gloves and tucked them into his coat pocket.

It was rare for him to remove the gloves he treated like part of his own body, especially somewhere that wasn’t his home.

“Marquess, thank you for the invitation.”

Reichardt approached the Marquess and greeted him.

His voice, like his messy hair, carried hints of breathlessness not yet calmed.

“Your Grace. We extended the invitation in hopes you might come, but we never expected you truly would. This is an honor for the Rain family.”

Marquess Rain expressed his deep gratitude to Reichardt.

“I didn’t think he’d actually come.”

Harry, still bowing beside Alicia, murmured under his breath.

“You did invite him, didn’t you?”

Alicia whispered just as softly.

“I timed it to match his inspection trip to the southwest. Still, how did he get here? Do you think the Grand Duke is jealous or something, Alicia?”

Alicia straightened slightly and hid her arm beneath the voluminous folds of her dress.

Then, she lightly jabbed Harry in the side.

She hadn’t used her full strength, but the sudden hit to the ribs nearly made Harry scream.

“Be sure to write me, brother.”

“You…”

Instead of groaning, Harry forced a smile, pretending to be calm.

“Juma.”

Alicia said tersely, as if it were some kind of secret code.

“Juma. Right.”

Just as Harry and Alicia reaffirmed their cryptic promise, a long shadow fell over them.

It was Reichardt.

The man’s bare hands drew Alicia’s gaze.

“Alicia. Have you been well? It seems I’ve arrived rather late. Please, rise.”

Reichardt took Alicia’s hand and helped her stand as he greeted her.

Only after finishing his own words did he, almost as an afterthought, gesture for the other nobles who were still bowing to rise.

“Your Grace.”

Alicia studied Reichardt, wondering if he might be unwell.

His face as he looked at her was perfectly expressionless.

Just as he seemed about to say something, the hand that had raised Alicia slipped silently out of hers.

“Thank you for accepting the invitation.”

Alicia swallowed several emotions at the feeling of his hand leaving hers—

Surprise, disappointment, a vague sadness.

His hand didn’t look lonely at all, yet her own now felt terribly empty.

She felt frustrated at herself for even having such emotions.

The discomfort unsettled her.

“I’ll escort you to Luderne.”

“Yes.”

Dinner had been winding down just before Reichardt arrived.

They had been waiting to see if anyone would buy a painting.

None of the artworks were particularly necessary for Alicia.

“Has that painting been sold?”

As they walked toward Marquess Rain, Reichardt asked the artist.

He was referring to the largest painting—

The one Alicia had just been looking at, depicting the ruins of Dolore under a night sky.

The little girls praying inside the ruins were so small they barely measured the length of a fingertip on the canvas.

“It doesn’t have a buyer yet, Your Grace.”

“Then I’ll take that one. The Baron of Rens will handle the payment.”

“It’s an honor to have Your Grace choose one of my paintings.”

At the artist’s response, Reichardt nodded in acknowledgment and continued toward Marquess Rain.

“I’d like to escort the lady to Luderne.”

He got straight to the point once in front of the Marquess.

Alicia’s dress was so full that her hand, resting at her side, was hidden beneath the fabric.

That same hand, chilled by the evening air, was brushed lightly by his.

“……”

Alicia turned to look, but Reichardt was focused solely on the Marquess.

“We can’t possibly trouble Your Grace.”

Marquess Rain spoke words of polite refusal, but his expression said otherwise.

He even seemed to suggest it was only natural for a fiancé to escort his betrothed.

Alicia couldn’t understand her father’s true intentions.

He had known the Grand Duke would be away from the capital and still timed the invitation to coincide with that day—

He’d even invited all her former suitors despite her engagement.

It was clear he was trying to drive a wedge between her and Reichardt, yet here he was expecting the Grand Duke to act like a devoted fiancé.

What was she supposed to make of that? There was no consistency.

Alicia was irritated by the situation, but now wasn’t the time to argue.

She planned to politely bid farewell to her host, her father, and leave.

Just then, Reichardt stepped slightly closer beside her.

His cold hand brushed across the back of hers once again.

“……”

That touch made Alicia falter before she could offer her farewell.

“Please do invite me again.”

“And I hope you’ll attend again. Take care on your way. Be careful, Alicia. Don’t forget the next dinner either.”

At the Marquess’s words, Alicia responded instinctively.

“Yes.”

That hadn’t been the plan.

She had intended to give a vague answer while saying goodbye—

Not to obediently comply.

But distracted by the strange circumstances, she’d answered more meekly than she meant to.

The Marquess smiled at her response.

Others might see only the twitch of his lips, but by his standards, that was equivalent to an audible laugh.

Alicia didn’t quite remember how she made it from the gallery to the front gate where the carriage waited.

Every time she tried to say something, that large, cold hand brushed faintly against her own.

If it were just about holding hands, they’d done so for ten days straight in Tessen—there’d be no reason to be surprised.

But the way he would suddenly draw near and lightly graze her fingertips left her flustered.

Was it just an accident?

Did it mean nothing?

Was he hurt and hiding it? She couldn’t tell.

His cold fingertips, chilled by the wind, kept nearing Alicia’s hand like they might touch… but then always withdrew.

Alicia didn’t know whether she was supposed to reach out more decisively, or whether she was just overreacting to a meaningless gesture.

She was thoroughly confused.

“Shall we go?”

Just as Alicia finally gathered her thoughts to speak,

Reichardt beat her to it.