Chapter 11
“How did you….”
“I’ll let it slide once, but not twice. This time, make sure you don’t give it away or lose it. Got it?”
“……”
Lionel didn’t respond at all. Instead, he quietly fiddled with the fountain pen with unfamiliar eyes.
It was as if he had just reunited with someone he had believed he would never see again in this lifetime.
‘Seeing that makes me feel like this wasn’t such a bad deal after all.’
She had spent quite a bit of her allowance buying five expensive fountain pens, but if she could pull an expression like that out of this man, then maybe it wasn’t a loss after all.
Proud of herself, Cecilia spoke smugly.
“Just in case the First Prince comes again asking for it, use me as an excuse and say you can’t give it to him.”
“Use you as an excuse?”
“Say the Roheim duke’s daughter cried and threw a tantrum, ran to her father to tattle, and then the duke got furious and threatened to withdraw all support promised to the imperial family.”
Of course, it wouldn’t work on the First Prince.
But what about the Emperor?
Even if the First Prince acted like a tyrant under the Empress’s protection, he couldn’t completely ignore the Emperor’s judgment.
As if confirming her reasoning, Lionel said,
“Wouldn’t that damage your reputation?”
“What does reputation matter? I’ll still be the youngest daughter of House Roheim and the Second Prince’s fiancée.”
Between reputation and benefit—
she would always choose the latter.
Better a well-fed pig than a starving Socrates!
“Anyway, got it? I’ll check every time I come whether you’ve kept it properly.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Lionel placed the pen back into its box and looked at her faintly.
……Huh?
“Please take good care of it. Properly this time.”
“W-what was that just now?”
“What do you mean?”
His expression had already returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
‘If only I had a camera already!’
It had disappeared so quickly that she couldn’t tell if what she saw had been real or an illusion.
‘No, but it couldn’t have been an illusion—it was just too… too…!’
She couldn’t even describe it properly.
Anyway, it had been really good. So good it had made her heart skip for a moment.
“I, I should get going now!”
“Already?”
“I’m busy, you know! I’ll come again next week, so—this is an assignment! Prepare flowers for me. Choose something that suits me!”
She couldn’t keep looking at Lionel’s face any longer.
As if fleeing, Cecilia left the room.
Only after returning home in her carriage did she realize she had left something behind.
“My fountain pen!”
…Well, she could just pick it up next week.
In any case, her plan had worked.
The reason she deliberately gave Lionel something she knew would be taken away by the First Prince was simple:
‘If I keep building up experiences of getting stolen things back… maybe when he loses the crown prince position, it won’t hurt as much.’
A so-called emotional desensitization therapy!
Yeah. She really was smart.
After Cecilia left like a sudden wind and disappeared just as quickly, Lionel finally realized she had left behind his return gift.
‘She said she’d come again next week. I’ll give it back then.’
Without even noticing how naturally he was anticipating the next meeting, he gently stroked the fountain pen.
Behind him, his aide Maximus, who had witnessed everything, let out a faint sigh of admiration.
“She’s… an extraordinary person. Lady Roheim, I mean.”
Lionel, fully focused on the pen, did not respond.
Maximus addressed him directly.
“How do you see Lady Roheim, Your Highness?”
“…What?”
“Lady Roheim.”
Lionel paused for a moment before speaking.
“My brother.”
“Pardon? You mean like the First Prince?”
If Cecilia had heard that, she would have flipped the table in rage.
Maximus, too, looked visibly confused.
“In what sense do you mean that…?”
Instead of answering, Lionel lowered his eyes and recalled Cecilia from the very first meeting until now.
They had only met three times, yet he could recall so many expressions, so many tones of voice.
She was someone who never hid her emotions. The only person he had ever seen like that was his brother.
Unlike him—someone who had become completely dry, unable to shed even a tear or smile properly—
people like her and his brother grew up that way because…
‘They were loved too much.’
For a brief moment, he thought that perhaps his brother suited her better.
But as if contradicting that thought, the blue diamond in his hand caught the light and shimmered.
“This is an assignment! Prepare flowers for me. Choose something that suits me!”
“…Maximus.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“I think I need to learn about flowers.”
“Flowers… pardon?”
“Not a teacher. Just get me a floral guidebook.”
“A floral guidebook… Yes, understood.”
Maximus sighed quietly, muttering something about “the Prince’s sleep schedule…”
But Lionel pretended not to hear.
Eventually, he carefully stroked the blue diamond embedded in the pen once more, then placed it back into its box.
And then he pushed the wooden case deep into the drawer.
As if locking it away where no one else’s gaze could ever reach it—only his own.
