Chapter – 12
“Can I ask where you went?”
“Um… well…”
Lona hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should speak.
“I was trying to find out if there’s a way to treat Your Highness’ eyes.”
“Haha.”
As soon as Lona said that, Ireon let out a short laugh.
“Ah, sorry. There’s no way to cure my eyes. Even His Majesty the Emperor tried to take care of his broken nephew, but it’s still like this.”
Lona’s sigh sounded heavy.
“I didn’t want to mention it because I thought you might feel that way.”
“So… did you find any method?”
“Um… half of it.”
Lona was curious what the “half” treatment method might be. But Ireon had already been steeped in the bitter taste of giving up.
“What is it?”
“It’s a medicinal tea. There’s said to be a rare herb used for it.”
“A tea, huh…”
The thought of drinking all kinds of things that hardly seemed fit for human consumption made Ireon feel nauseous. Normally, he would never accept anything given by others. There had been so many attempts on his life that he had grown extremely cautious. Rumor had it among the barbarians that if Ireon Clavent fell, they could win the war. And yet, he had to swallow it all without resentment just to try to regain his sight. It had been extremely difficult for someone like him. And even after enduring it, his eyes had shown no improvement. Recalling that time made Ireon feel a sinking weight in his chest.
“Ask the steward. There should be records of the herbs that were used in treatment. If there’s anything you haven’t tried, then drink it.”
Even the things he didn’t want to eat or drink, he wondered if he could refuse them if Lona was the one giving them. Knowing how much she had gone through in the rain, looking for a cure, Ireon’s desire to regain his sight grew even stronger.
“Don’t get your hopes up too much. But if it’s something you brought, I’ll drink it diligently.”
“Your Highness.”
Lona placed her fingers on the back of his hand. Her hand traveled lightly up his arm and rested on his shoulder. She gently pulled him toward her in a light hug and patted his back. At that moment, Ireon was struck as if by lightning. She approached carefully, signaling not to startle him—but even this slight contact made his heart race uncontrollably.
“I’ll make sure you regain your sight. I’ll do it for you.”
Lona muttered this almost as a vow, her words dizzyingly close to his ear. Ireon felt the sudden urge to pull her into a proper embrace.
“…No.”
He didn’t want her to see his feelings yet. To reveal his transparent, selfish heart to someone so unaware, indifferent, and disinterested could destroy the little dignity he had left.
Without the courage to let go…
If he were to hug Lona even once, what would come next? Surely, he would want more. Ireon had to summon every bit of willpower to push his hands down. When he turned his head, Lona stepped back from him.
“Let’s go to the tailor. We should hurry.”
But Lona shook her head.
“I’m really fine. I get better conditions and higher pay than anywhere else. That’s enough for me.”
Her gentle refusal left Ireon quietly disappointed. Until just moments ago, he had been overanalyzing every word and action she had made, trying to gauge if she had feelings for him, if he could win her heart. He felt foolish now. She wasn’t staying by his side because of affection—she was just fulfilling a paid position. A sense of bleakness washed over him, realizing it would likely remain that way.
But if there’s anything I can do for you, I want to do it.
He recalled yesterday, when she was soaked in rain and her small, delicate body had been draped in a rough, cheap coat. Remembering that brought his wavering heart back to its place.
“This concerns the dignity of the Duke’s household. If you go around dressed like that, what would people think?”
“They wouldn’t care about me.”
“They’d say the staff is so shabby, the Duke’s household doesn’t even pay them properly.”
“Oh, maybe. I apologize, Your Highness.”
Hearing Lona’s disappointed voice, Ireon’s heart ached. But if he held on just a moment longer, he would gain the right to dress her in new clothes to his heart’s content.
“Hurry and get ready.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
With the door closed, Ireon roughly rubbed his flushed face. Being in love disrupted one’s daily life. Every action, every word, seemed to carry hidden meaning. Though Lona left politely, unaware, and went on her way, every little thing affected him.
I like her without restraint.
Luton’s tailor shop, Levalain, was located in the capital of the Constance Empire, Constance Avignon. He had come back not only because the owner had personally greeted him in a carriage the day before, but also because the steward had mentioned, “All the young ladies in the park are wearing Levalain outfits.”
“Welcome, Your Highness. Thank you for visiting us again.”
And third, the owner treated him like any ordinary customer, despite rumors about the blind, ill-fated Duke. She wouldn’t spread gossip about the Empire’s blind noble shopping for clothes.
“Yes. I’d like to have several outfits made for this young lady.”
“How many? I really don’t need that many,” Lona said, referring to the coat she had torn yesterday.
“Are you joking? Not one outfit for spring, summer, autumn, winter—just one? Nonsense.”
“This is such an expensive place… why would I buy my clothes here? I’m fine with what I have now.”
“Remember, clothes provided by the Duke’s household must be returned if you stop working.”
Ireon could sense Lona’s discomfort at showing up in maid attire. He quietly chuckled to himself.
“Then, young lady, please follow me.”
Levalain truly understood what mattered. Hereon and the steward were led to a separate room.
“Wow,” Lona whispered as soon as she stepped in.
“What’s got you so amazed?”
“First, it’s a huge circular room, with a round skylight at the top.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this either. Standing up there in new clothes, you’d look like an angel.”
The steward added his observation.
“The walls are lined with beautiful, colorful fabrics.”
Ireon visualized the scene as Lona described it: a small, dark-skinned girl with red hair and blue eyes gazing around in wonder.
“Your Highness, here are some fabric samples,” the owner, Emily, said, placing a pile of heavy swatches on his lap. Ireon felt each one carefully: light and airy ones for summer, thicker ones for fall, buttons, drapes, details for a perfect fit. They were far superior to the clothes Lona had worn yesterday.
“Can you tailor winter coats to her size?”
“Yes. All are pre-fitted, so we can adjust them to Lona’s measurements if you purchase them.”
“Then buy all of these coats.”
Emily’s face lit up with joy.
By now, Lona had returned from the dressing room, awkwardly wearing a different dress.
“Please come up here, young lady.”
“Like this?”
Sunlight fell through the round skylight, and the lace of her dress shimmered. Looking in the mirror, Lona gasped in delight.
“I understand the secret of this room. Anything I try on here… I’ll end up buying it all.”
Emily chuckled.
“Why worry? Your Highness has already bought over twenty outfits.”
“What? Excuse me, ma’am. I don’t need that many,” Lona protested.
Ignoring her, Ireon focused on choosing spring, summer, and autumn outfits.
“Let’s take her and start with the spring clothes.”
Emily faithfully followed his instructions.
Then, a voice rang out:
“Well, look who we have here. Never thought I’d see a blind man in a place like this.”
Ireon’s expression instantly hardened. There was only one person in the Empire who could speak to Ireon Clavent, second in line to the throne, this way.
“Xavier.”
Even he did not bother to address Xavier as “Crown Prince.”
“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to find you wandering outside the mansion.”
“Mind your manners. You should stick to your room instead of causing trouble.”
“Perhaps you should mind your own room instead of causing accidents elsewhere.”
At that moment, Xavier’s bodyguard stepped forward.
“How dare you be rude to the Crown Prince?”
Ireon turned his head toward the sound. His blurry gray eyes focused on the approaching threat, and the guard involuntarily swallowed.
“By the way, who did you bring? A hidden woman, perhaps?”
Xavier’s eyes swept over the dressing room curtain.
“Could it be Ana? Some cunning woman trying to get at the Duke’s wealth?”
Just as Xavier reached for the curtain, Ireon’s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist.
