Chapter 84

(Charlotte Rea Langheim. The more I look at her, the more I cannot deny her beauty.)

Her long, moon-colored hair flows in wavy curves.

A few days ago, when I met her, she was wearing a modestly designed dress that concealed her feminine figure.

However, tonight's Charlotte is dressed in a truly wicked manner, with a deep neckline that reveals her cleavage.

Her lips, painted in red, smile at Clyde as he stands up. Her chest and ears are adorned with elegant, shimmering jewels.

(Despite being cleverly concealed, everything she wears is a protective stone. She wasn’t simply lured here; she seems to be a kind of decoy.)

Aware of this, Clyde smiles.

"Being able to be by your side is the greatest joy for me."

He takes Charlotte's hand and guides her to the chair he was just sitting in, making her sit down. Kneeling beside her, he narrows his eyes as if trying to seduce his beloved.

"May I have a moment to converse? Charlotte?"

"...Sure."

With a haughty demeanor, the holy maiden Charlotte smiles faintly.

"I don't want to hear boring stories. I only love fun things."

"..."

Her attitude is indeed arrogant, like a thorny rose that can't be easily tamed.

I can see the men gathered in the quiet tavern admiring Charlotte from a distance. This is a top-tier establishment, accessible only to men of status or their invited guests.

"Shall we start with a drink?"

Clyde winks flawlessly and asks:

"Would you like a drink that matches the color of your eyes?"

***

(Here, is this okay!?)

In the elegant tavern, Charlotte sat down on a plush leather chair, extremely nervous.

The dimly lit room is filled with the sound of a violin.

The well-dressed men gathered around the tables, holding glasses and chatting, make the place feel more like a ballroom than a tavern.

A small glass of blue liquor was brought to Charlotte. The man who said it matched the color of her eyes is smiling at her from the opposite seat.

(It's been since the day before yesterday when he invaded my room at the inn. He is still gentlemanly, but there's something elusive about him...)

She turned to face him, careful not to reveal her true feelings. Pretending to be a wicked woman, she calmly picks up the glass.

Two days ago, Emile, the older brother of Ozvalt, said to Charlotte:

"If you want to investigate a man named Clyde, the best way is for you to accept his invitation. Respond to his call and gather information. Then..."

"Prince Emile"

Ozvalt clearly interrupted his brother.

He wasn't raising his voice or showing obvious anger, but his tone conveyed a clear message.

"The reason I claim the right to the throne is solely to protect Charlotte from danger. I cannot accept your proposal as her husband."

"Well, we should hear Charlotte's opinion, shouldn't we?"

"Your Highness"

"Listen, Ozvalt"

Despite Ozvalt's continued protests, Emile continued in a soft tone.

"Until this issue is resolved, you won't receive the blessing of marriage. Since the obstruction of marriage might be part of the struggle for the throne, I can't remain uninvolved. I want to quickly understand the situation."

"I understand. That's why I want to handle it alone without involving Charlotte."

Charlotte's heart ached at his words, which were spoken out of concern for her.

"No, Lord Ozvalt...!"

"Charlotte?"

Since the barrier that repelled her was Charlotte's, it couldn't be solely Ozvalt's responsibility.

Yet, Ozvalt, assuming this was part of the struggle for the throne, was concerned for Charlotte.

(Lord Ozvalt and Prince Emile have thought a lot about this. But fundamentally, not receiving the blessing of marriage is my problem.)

In front of Clyde, Charlotte took a tiny sip of the light blue liquor in her glass.

(If Lord Clyde knows something, I must find it out! What happened to me in the past, or if nothing happened, or if someone is behind it, and if it's really the prince...!)

The drink tasted mostly of fruit, with little alcohol. Still, to be safe, she only sipped it lightly.

(I should assume that he has already seen through the fact that my accessories are protective stones...)

Clyde, sitting opposite her, doesn't drink but looks at Charlotte happily.

(He said he loves me. If we were really married, I would feel terribly guilty... but one of the reasons I came here is to confirm that.)

Charlotte decided to proceed with her plan.

"I'm not very interested in your story."

"Oh? That's a bit sad."

While pretending to be a wicked holy maiden, she pays attention to every movement of her fingers.

Following the teachings of Hedemarie, who gave her a lady's education, Charlotte elegantly tilts her glass, and the surrounding seats are filled with admiring murmurs.

"What I want to know is only about myself."

"......"

(No, I really want to know about Lord Ozvalt too! From the day and time of his birth to the content of his dreams yesterday, and the first word he ever spoke, I want to know everything about Lord Ozvalt...)

Just thinking about him disrupts her composure.

On the surface, she remains an elegant wicked woman, but the contents of her glass, which she shakes slightly, ripple gently.

"I came to meet you because you said you know about my past. Do you understand?"

"...Not because you remembered your love for me?"

(Ah...!)

As someone in love with Ozvalt, she feels guilty. But at the same time, she feels a sense of unease about him.

(Actually, the more I hear words of love from Lord Clyde, the more I feel something strange. It's hard to explain...)

Charlotte observes as calmly as possible.

(...For example, it feels like he's lying...)