“I am human.”
“No, didn’t you liken Rosaline to flour?”
Oh, you mean that? Rosaline nodded.
“Anyway, I will just think of the “you” before me as flour, the main ingredient for the cake, only for this moment.”
“Understood.”
I’m not entirely clear, but if that’s what His Highness says, it’s the truth.
“Rosaline Radwiell.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Ricardis looked at her with a solemn face.
“I say this to your past self,” he took hold of Rosaline’s hands.
“For everything, I am grateful.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})Ricardis closed his eyes and bowed his head; his hold was not painful but was instead a firm and comforting grip enveloping her hand.
Rosaline looked at him intently—the prince of the empire, Ricardis, was bowing to her— what a bizarre sight.
Ricardis looked up after a while, his expression complex and filled with subtle nuances. He hesitated for a moment before finally uttering his thoughts.
“What would Rosaline have thought of my words?”
“I’m not sure, but since I am also Rosaline, can I share my thoughts?”
“It’s alright, go ahead.”
“Well, my heart skipped a beat, and…” As Rosaline spoke, Ricardis furrowed his eyebrows and forced a smile. “I thought something was hurting you.”
Ah, why did she suddenly mention being hurt… They say people are odd when they’re about to die… These words must have been a result of that peculiar state.
Ricardis let go of her hand as embarrassment rose on his previously sorrow-filled face.
“I didn’t expect you to be sad or burst into tears, but I genuinely spoke my heart with such indescribable sincerity!” He turned away, his temper rising. “But anyway, thank you!”
[T/N: It took me a few minutes to understand this part. Rosaline interpreted Ricardis bowing his head as a sign of distress and commented, “I thought something was hurting you.” Ricardis, anticipating a teary response from his heartfelt words of gratitude directed at the past Rosaline, felt embarrassed upon hearing Rosaline’s ‘playful’ reply. His thoughts—They say people are odd when they’re about to die… These words must have been a result of that peculiar state —stemmed from his belief that Rosaline was speaking on behalf of the past Rosaline and implying that she had lost her sanity moments before her death, which caused her to reply to his gratitude with “I thought something was hurting you”.]
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Truthfully, as Rosaline watched him retreat, there were things she’d left unsaid. Her senses took her back in time as memories of the days spent watching that back flooded her mind— “Rosaline’s” memories.
From when she was still immature to those dangerous times when she fought for her life… Those days when everything was dazzlingly beautiful and those when she’d cried to herself miserably— but through it all, Ricardis’ presence interweaved with every moment of Rosaline’s life.
In every scene, if she felt sad, the memory was dyed with sadness; if she felt joy, that emotion painted her memory— her heart contained overwhelming happiness and aching sadness. Those blossoming emotions sprout in the ever-flowing river of time, gleaming in a blur of color.
Maybe it’s a meaningless feeling since it’s already passed, but still, the depths of her heart were filled so much with such sparkling and beautiful emotions…
How should she describe it? Rosaline couldn’t quite figure it out.
In the distance, Rosaline heard voices calling out to them— the Knights of the White Knight were searching for the two who had suddenly disappeared from their positions. Ricardis turned around and looked at her. Their eyes met as Rosaline stood by his side with a smile.
***
A new day dawned, and as people filled the once-empty space, the atmosphere instantly changed. The large clearing bustled with activity as nobles, aristocrats, guests from other countries, knights, soldiers, and servants filled it.
Some nobles briefly recalled a few months ago when the Black Moon assassins infiltrated with nefarious intentions. The location, place, and timing had no connection, yet the event of a hunting competition vaguely stirred unease.
However, this place was not the border zone where the incident had occurred. They were in Tigard, the capital of Illavenia— a place where those who believed in the ominous power of magic had to tread lightly— and the distance from Balta was far enough for everyone to feel relieved.
Moreover, this mountain had been under strict observation for weeks. Mercenaries and huntsmen regularly patrolled and handled any potential threats. Neither suspicious individuals nor hidden monsters could escape their watchful eyes. It could be jokingly said that this mountain was the second safest place after the Illavenian Imperial Palace.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})Ricardis gazed expressionlessly at the sight of noblewomen walking around with fans. Why were there so many events happening within a month? It was becoming tiresome.
“You should smile, Your Highness,” Isserion murmured behind Ricardis. “Do you realize how meaningful your expression is right now? People passing by are glancing at you.” Isserion’s lips remained unmoving, like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“Isn’t it foolish to be smiling when there’s nothing special happening?”
“Everyone is smiling like fools. If you want to hide in the forest, you’ll have to gain the ability to become a tree.”
As he said, everyone was smiling like fools, whether out of reverence for the Emperor’s presence or genuine enjoyment of the hunting tournament.
A group of passing nobles turned their heads toward Ricardis. He quickly met Isserion’s gaze and forced a carefree smile.
“Hahaha! Humans, I tell you!”
“Oh dear, what did I say, Your Highness!”
Their laughter was a foolish sound that seamlessly blended into their surroundings without any awkwardness. The nobles looked at Ricardis and then began conversing among themselves. Ricardis abruptly stopped laughing.
“What are they doing?”
A group of priests dressed in white robes caught their attention. Most likely, they were drafted from the temple to attend to any potential injuries. When Laheansi nearly tripped on a cobblestone, young priests nearby hurriedly grabbed hold of him, but they all ended up tumbling down.
As everyone pretended not to notice or discreetly chuckled, Ricardis’ expression hardened again. Isserion placed a hand on his forehead.
The incident reminded him of the discovery of a priest’s body in the Imperial forest. The looming danger was so close and still unknown. Even with Rosaline’s power, Macaron’s existence, and his own abilities, it was impossible to gauge the magnitude of the situation, so his unease did not subside.
Ricardis sharply scanned his surroundings and spotted Rosaline. She had her eyes squinted and was crookedly leaning against a tree. It was a sight imbibed with the laziness of a cat bathing in the sunlight. Ricardis couldn’t help but raise the corners of his mouth, unable to suppress his smile.
“That’s it, Your Highness!” Isserion murmured from behind.
It was a warm smile that could melt a thousand-year-old block of ice, but Ricardis was too focused on Rosaline to hear him.
Rosaline, Shuten, and Claude would participate in the hunting competition as representatives of the Knights of the White Night. While Claude and Shuten were busy checking their equipment in the distance, Rosaline seemed at ease alone. Instead, the other knights checked Rosaline’s sword and arrows and prepared extra supplies in their spare time. Raymond firmly attached an extra bag to Rosaline’s belt, and Nestor inspected the saddle of Rosaline’s warhorse, Chocolate.
“…”
It was fortunate that everyone seemed to get along well. Ricardis deliberately brushed past that unusual sight.
As Rosaline watched the knights bustling around, she discreetly extracted some dried meat from her extra bag. She took a large piece of the jerky and slowly closed her eyes as she savored it. It seemed to be a perfect fit for her taste buds.
Ricardis approached her. Even with closed eyes, Rosaline seemed to have sensed his presence, as she showed no signs of surprise when his voice resounded clearly.
“Is it delicious?”
Rosaline opened her eyes and retrieved another piece of jerky with a triumphant smile before handing it to Ricardis. Ricardis immediately put the jerky in his mouth without receiving it with his hand. It was chewy, tender, slightly salty, and delicious. It seemed of higher quality than the jerky distributed as rations.
“It’s delicious.” Rosaline nodded emphatically. “It’s the finest jerky that’s dried in a sea breeze. It may appear completely dried out, but it has a chewy texture and a rich aroma and saltiness of the dried meat. It’s brushed with honey and juice during the three drying stages, which gives it a subtle sweetness. It surpasses the overall taste of jerky and makes your mouth water.”
“…”
Ricardis felt slightly bewildered as he had expected a simple response like ‘It’s delicious.’ He had noticed since yesterday that Rosaline’s vocabulary had significantly expanded. Upon reflection, he realized that improvement seemed limited to food-related terms, but still. Ricardis chuckled. Well, it was enough that she found it tasty.
Of course, Nathan advised Rosaline not to snack while on duty. She used to follow such rules obediently, but now he could faintly feel the heat of her rebellious spark.
“Isn’t the point of fasting to maintain focus while on the job, Deputy Commander? Even while eating, I can still maintain my focus!”
Her words did not work, and she was getting scolded even more.
“But… His Highness also had some.”
The include-my-boss strategy didn’t work, and Rosaline remained in deep trouble.
***
Rosaline, who was inspecting the dangers around Ricardis’ tent, was interrupted by the arrival of a man.
“I am Jurenz of the Lasso Mercenary Corps, Your Highness.”
As he knelt, his stern gaze clearly showed his displeasure. Ricardis was sure this ashen-haired man was Macaron, even without an introduction.
“People who aren’t very close to me usually call me Juju. You can call me that.”
“… And what about those who are close to you?”
“I don’t have any. I’m just that unpleasant of a person.”
