“Iris! Iris! Prince Rezeda has requested to meet you!” announced Marquis Chevalier, bursting through the door with an excited expression.
Iris was taken aback. She hadn’t seen him since that tea party and saw no reason why he would want to meet her after being so distantly treated.
“Could there be some mistake?”
“No mistake, it’s definitely you. A tea party will be held at the palace in a week, and you are to attend.”
“I refuse.”
Iris responded immediately.
“Ahaha! Iris, you say the funniest things! As if you could refuse. Get whatever you need, buy whatever you like,” chuckled the Marquis before leaving the room.
“What a whirlwind,” murmured Iris, and one of the maids couldn’t help but giggle softly.
Today was the day to go to the palace. Iris boarded the carriage reluctantly, after making quite a fuss to have Nigel accompany her. She wore the large ribbon and half-up hairdo that her father loved so much. The luxurious gloves she had insisted were unnecessary were left in the carriage; she planned to make a show of her pox scars and be thoroughly disliked.
“Ah, this is so depressing. I hate this,” she complained inside the carriage, to which Nigel only smiled helplessly.
“There’s really nothing to talk about,” Iris continued. Unlike Nigel, she didn’t share any hobbies with Rezeda, who was practically a stranger to her.
Upon arriving at the palace, they were led to a small greenhouse brimming with white flowers. Inside were Prince Rezeda and his elder brother, Crown Prince Bruet, who was five years his senior and eighteen this year. Iris had only seen Bruet from a distance and had never spoken to him before.
“You must be Miss Iris. Good of Nigel to come as well,” greeted Bruet.
“I am Iris de Chevalier,” she replied, performing a polite curtsy.
“No need to be so formal. We are good friends with Nigel,” Bruet said, smiling warmly. His delicate hair, a mix of light purple and pink, rustled softly. Despite being a man, his appearance was ethereal, with a faint blush on his pale, smooth cheeks.
Caught up in his beauty, Iris found herself staring until Bruet shyly smiled back.
“I heard the last tea party was quite entertaining. I should have attended,” he chuckled.
“Entertaining, you say?”
Iris was puzzled; the event hadn’t been particularly enjoyable from her perspective.
“I’ve heard tales of your bravery,” Bruet continued.
“Brother!” Rezeda interjected, looking flustered.
Iris blushed deeply and looked down. ‘Bravery’ must refer to the glove incident.
How mortifying! Even the Crown Prince knows about it. If only I could disappear into a hole!
“Rezeda seemed so happy after the tea party that I had to ask,” Bruet added.
“Brother, please! That’s enough. Leave us,” Rezeda said, his voice carrying a mix of annoyance and amusement.
Bruet coughed softly.
“Ah, brother, I may have spoken too harshly. My apologies. But please, go rest. You needn’t strain yourself,” Rezeda said with concern.
Bruet smiled gently and suggested, “Nigel, why don’t you come with me?” Nigel, supporting Bruet, who was subtly coughing, left the greenhouse with him.
Is Prince Bruet unwell? I recall from the game setting that he dies before the game starts, making Rezeda the crown prince. Is something going to happen to him soon? And one of the other love interests from the game, Citis, lost his lover to illness before the game began. Coincidence? Or is there some epidemic in the capital?
A chill ran down Iris’s spine.
Hopefully, it’s just a misunderstanding. Besides, they wouldn’t tell me the truth about the Crown Prince’s health anyway. And even if they did, there’s nothing I can do about it…
“I apologize for my brother’s rudeness,” Rezeda said, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Oh, no, it’s fine.”
“Please, have a seat here.”
Rezeda motioned to a white circular table.
Silence ensued. The air felt so heavy with silence that even a bird flapping its wings seemed loud. Iris was at a loss; she didn’t understand why she was there, especially without Nigel, and she hadn’t expected to be alone with Rezeda.
Silence…
Ah, I can almost hear a bird’s wings flapping. I don’t have any conversation starters, and I don’t want to be friends anyway.
Silence…
Hmm… Can I go home now?
“Um, Prince Rezeda, sitting here with me is a waste of your time, so please let me leave,” Iris ventured.
“No!” Rezeda responded immediately, seemingly surprising himself with the intensity of his reply.
“Oh, I apologize for being so direct.”
“No, it’s… okay.”
Silence, once again.
I might as well leave. If he wants to talk to Nigel, he can just keep him. Let’s just go home! Nigel can catch up later.
“Um? If you want to talk to Nigel, I can leave him here.”
“Miss Iris?”
Rezeda looked startled as Iris seemed utterly unaffected, solely focused on getting away.
“Oh, Miss Iris, would you like some tea?”
“It’s still in the cup.”
They had only just sat down, and she hadn’t even touched it yet.
“There are also cakes. I had several prepared, pick whatever you like…”
As he spoke, a cart was wheeled over by the same maid from the last tea party. The maid’s white apron was adorned with a small ribbon made from the lace of that day.
“Please choose whatever you’d like.”
“Oh!”
Arrayed on the cart were a variety of cakes. There were summer strawberry tarts, likely cheesecakes, fluffy chiffon cakes, and kugelhupf. They all looked delicious.
“My recommendation is the strawberry tart,” Rezeda suggested.
“Then, I’ll have the strawberry tart,” Iris decided, and the maid served her a piece.
“You made it into a ribbon. That’s so thoughtful,” Iris addressed the maid, pleased that she was wearing something Iris had been involved with, even if it had been at risk of being thrown away due to disdain.
The maid blushed deeply and bowed in response.
Rezeda watched the exchange with a smile. Iris, feeling his gaze, looked at him. Their eyes met.
“Um, is something the matter?”
“No, well, I invited you here as a way to make up for the last tea party, which seemed to have upset you,” Rezeda explained.
Rezeda was always kind, but Iris hadn’t realized it during the game.
“Please, don’t worry about it.”
“But to publicly expose a lady’s wounds like that was too much…”
“Really, it’s fine. Nigel told me something that made me think. This can be a useful way to filter people.”
Iris raised her left hand, showing her scars, and Rezeda smiled awkwardly.
“You are very strong, Miss Iris.”
“Not really. I just don’t think it’s something to brood over. I’m alive, after all.”
That was truly how Iris felt, a realization that had come with Nigel’s words that he was glad she was alive.
As long as I’m alive, I can handle it. But one wrong step and real danger awaits. These scars on my hands are nothing; they’re even convenient.
Watching the prince taste the cake, Iris also took a bite. The tart acidity of the small summer strawberries mixed with the sweetness of the cream was a perfect taste of early summer.
As expected of the palace! The sweets at the previous tea party were delicious, and so is this cake!
As she savored the flavor, Rezeda chuckled.
“Do you like the cake?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Rezeda kept smiling, but Iris felt utterly baffled, unable to grasp his true intentions.
