Chapter 5

Having received a few reports of typos up until the previous chapter, I immediately corrected them. I make a lot of typos, so I really appreciate the help.

"......I'm not pleased."

A low, hushed murmur struck Cordelia's eardrums.

"Huh?"

That voice, which resembled the growl of a beast, was completely different from the calm Leonhardt of a moment ago. Cordelia couldn't help but wonder if she had misheard.

"Are you thinking that my actions to save you were all calculated?"

Amber eyes stared intently at her. The oppressive presence was like facing a large animal. Leonhardt, maintaining eye contact, gently took Cordelia's right hand.

Through the silk glove, the firm fingers of a man touched her. Leonhardt grasped Cordelia's right palm and lifted it gently. It was a natural and smooth movement, but one that left no room for refusal.

Up, up.

Past her chest, past her throat, and then closer to her lips—

"......I can't help it."

A small, hoarse voice escaped Leonhardt's lips. His breath made Cordelia's fingertips tremble. It was an itchy, almost kissable distance.

"Your Highness...?"

Confused by Leonhardt's intentions, Cordelia voiced her doubt. She couldn't just push away the hand of a prince, so she was at a loss.

......If she hadn't misseen, for a moment, a look of ecstasy flashed in Leonhardt's eyes as he looked at Cordelia's silk-gloved palm.

(Does His Highness have a thing for women's gloved hands?)

Everyone has their own preferences. Even someone who looks like the ideal prince might, when you peel back the layers, still be a man.

Just as she was thinking these rather disrespectful thoughts,

"That's a shame."

"......What is, Your Highness?"

Perhaps, from the perspective of a woman's glove fetishist, her hand was unsatisfactory? If so, it was a bit reassuring, but also a bit disappointing, a complex feeling.

"Ah, sorry. Cordelia, you did nothing wrong. Look here."

Leonhardt, still holding her palm, pointed to the tip of her ring finger with his index finger.

"It seems the wine splashed and left a stain."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed. Your Highness has keen eyes."

"I couldn't tell if it was dust until I looked closely."

It was a tiny, sesame-seed-sized stain. To confirm this stain, Leonhardt must have brought her palm close to his face.

(I'm sorry for suspecting you of being a glove fetishist.)

She silently apologized in her heart. False accusations are absolutely unacceptable, as her grandmother had taught her.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I intended to protect you, but it seems I failed to do so."

"Please don't apologize. Thanks to you, I didn't get drenched in wine."

"But your glove is stained."

"It's just a small stain. It won't be noticeable after washing, so don't worry about it."

"You're kind. How about giving me that glove?"

Huh?

What does "then" mean here?

She was completely confused.

"Your Highness, what are you...?"

"Ha, don't look at me like that. I have no ulterior motives or suspicious intentions."

...Saying you have no ulterior motives yourself is very suspicious.

"That stain is my fault, so I want to have a new glove made with the same design and give it to you."

"That's too much. I can't accept such a favor from Your Highness."

"There's no need to be so formal."

"I can take it home and remove the stain myself."

"Ha, you're so unassuming. I told you, there's no need to be formal. I'm doing this because I want to."

"......I'm not being formal, but..."

Cordelia was puzzled. Why was Leonhardt so fixated on the glove? ...Could it be that he—

(He likes women's hands in gloves, not just the gloves themselves...)

The gloves themselves, not the hands inside them. Could it be a fetish for the gloves themselves?

(Such a... rather specific fetish...)

Honestly, it was a bit off-putting. She had to suppress the urge to give him a cold look.

"Prince Leonhardt!"

A sweet, delicate voice. Priscilla ran over to Leonhardt.

She held a white handkerchief. Come to think of it, she had been unusually quiet, trying to retrieve the handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her dress.

Priscilla, unfolding the handkerchief, reached out to Leonhardt.

(What a beautiful pair.)

The fairy-like beautiful girl Priscilla and the stunningly handsome Leonhardt. The sight of them together was like a beautiful painting. The onlookers sighed in admiration, watching the beautiful duo.

"Prince Leonhardt, please stay still. I'll wipe the wine off... kyaa?!"

Leonhardt took a half-step back, and Priscilla's hand swiped through the air. Cordelia instinctively reached out to support her slender sister, preventing her from falling.

"Prince Leonhardt...?"

Priscilla, who had been saved by Cordelia, paid no attention to her sister. Her large, sapphire eyes gazed intently at Leonhardt.

"Why are you avoiding me...?"

"I'm covered in wine. I can't risk staining your beautiful dress."

"......Beautiful... such a... You're so kind..."

Priscilla's eyes welled up with tears. The male onlookers blushed and became excited at the dreamy smile of the beautiful girl. While observing them with a cool eye, Cordelia's mind was filled with question marks.

(Prince Leonhardt's behavior towards Priscilla seems like the ideal response of a noble prince, but...)

Saying he wouldn't touch her to avoid staining her dress was odd. Earlier, Leonhardt had deliberately taken Cordelia's hand. He didn't need to touch her just to check the stain on the glove.

Leonhardt, who had touched Cordelia's hand himself, didn't try to touch Priscilla. Cordelia wondered why and compared herself to Priscilla.

(Ah, the gloves!)

She nodded deeply, realizing Priscilla's bare hands. Priscilla's dress had wide sleeves with multiple layers of lace, and she wasn't wearing gloves.

(Prince Leonhardt must be a hardcore glove fetishist...)

He must have been unable to resist touching Cordelia's gloved hand impulsively. In contrast, Priscilla was bare-handed. Leonhardt's rationality kicked in, and he didn't try to touch her.

(To be more excited by my gloves than by Priscilla...)

Priscilla, objectively, was a top-tier beauty. Yet, he had ignored her and looked at Cordelia's gloves with an ecstatic expression.

(What a complex man...)

Everyone has their own preferences. But how one feels about those preferences is also a matter of personal freedom.

---The second prince, Leonhardt, is a glove fetishist.

Cordelia was now certain of this.

Thank you for reading. I would be grateful for any reviews or comments. The next chapter will be posted tomorrow, so please look forward to it.

......Gloves are really great, aren't they?

The smooth, cool silk, the thick, functional leather gloves. The wrinkles at the joints, the wrists visible at the edges of the gloves, are irresistible. White gloves are good, and black gloves are also good. The contrast when they are taken off is also enjoyable. I think gloves are a versatile tool.