Iris flinched at Felicia’s question.
Etienne tilted his head.
“Already?”
“Already?
We have been camped in this domain for nearly ten days!
If you include the time spent searching for you, it has been almost two weeks!”
“Oh.
I had not realized so much time had passed.”
“That is because you were ill, Sir Etienne!” Felicia grumbled.
She was not wrong; Etienne had been bedridden with a cold for several days.
Ezekiel glanced instinctively at Iris.
Her expression had clouded over.
“But I am still concerned about Lady Arbois’s arm,” he interjected.
Felicia pouted, looking down at her splinted limb.
It was a long way from being healed.
But she had no intention of letting it keep her here.
“It is not as if I am completely immobile.
Once the rain stops for good, why do we not move on to a larger city?”
“A larger city?”
“Yes.
It is inconvenient here.
And more importantly, the knights have been sleeping outdoors for days.” That was true.
The Quillucsia estate was barely a castle, and the forty knights were essentially camping.
“And in case you princes have not noticed, Miss Quillucsia, this village’s food supply is dwindling, is it not?”
Iris nodded, her expression pained.
The princes finally seemed to grasp the situation.
The village consisted of only twenty households.
With forty knights to feed, they were consuming provisions for fifty extra people daily.
Felicia was paying, of course, but the village’s stores were finite.
“Our physician is also running low on supplies,” Felicia pressed.
“We must get to a city.
Your vacation is not endless, you know.”
“That is true…” Etienne’s leave from the Emperor was for four months.
Factoring in the return journey, their time was not as ample as it seemed.
Felicia’s logic was sound.
Finding no counterargument, Etienne looked to his brother.
“Ez, what do you think?”
“…I believe Lady Arbois is right.” Even as he said the words, his heart sank at the thought of leaving Iris.
He had no intention of letting their connection end with this vacation.
He did not know her thoughts, but he fully intended to confess his feelings again and build a future with her.
A future that might, eventually, lead to a proposal.
The thought sent a secret, thrilling warmth through him, which he quickly suppressed.
It was too soon.
‘Of course, persuading Father will be difficult.’
The primary obstacle was his status as a prince promised to God.
The duty had originally been Etienne’s, but the Emperor, concerned with the line of succession, had reversed his decision and dedicated his next son instead.
If Ezekiel refused his holy vows for Iris, the imperial family’s opposition would be fierce.
It would be a direct blow to the Emperor’s authority.
The church, too, which hoped to absorb a prince to bolster its own influence, would be deeply displeased.
Still, Ezekiel felt a flicker of confidence.
His father adored him.
Throughout his childhood, the Emperor had often lamented, “I do not want to give him to the gods.” Perhaps he could appeal to that affection.
But there were many obstacles to overcome.
The first, and perhaps steepest, was sitting right in front of him.
“Hm?
Ez?
Why are you staring at me like that?”
“It is nothing.” Ezekiel quickly looked away.
Etienne tilted his head, taking another sip of mead.
“This is truly magnificent.
When we return to the palace, I shall have to command you to brew mead for me every year.” He never missed an opportunity for a jest.
Henry giggled.
“If Prince Etienne were that transparent, I would not worry.
I would have forbidden it at once.” Ezekiel recalled Robert’s words.
Etienne had been raised from birth to be the crown prince.
His position was unassailable, and Ezekiel never doubted he would one day be emperor.
But he also suspected that his own existence was not an entirely welcome one for his brother.
“I wish your birth order had been reversed.” His father had made such careless, joking remarks often during Ezekiel’s childhood.
Each time, he had seen the young Etienne’s face harden.
The only reason Etienne could treat him with such brotherly indulgence was the certainty that Ezekiel would one day be removed from the line of succession, forever bound to a god.
An opponent who required no vigilance.
How magnanimous one could be toward a rival who could never truly compete.
For that very reason, Ezekiel dreaded Etienne’s reaction when he refused to enter the clergy.
He wanted only Iris; he coveted nothing of Etienne’s.
But would his brother ever believe that?
“…kiel?”
“Your Highness Ezekiel!”
Ezekiel snapped to attention.
Felicia was standing beside him, looking annoyed.
“Oof!
I called your name several times!
What were you so lost in thought about?”
“My apologies.
I was thinking of our return to the capital.” It was not a lie.
Felicia pouted.
“On such a lovely walk.” The physician had insisted she exercise her arm.
Etienne usually accompanied her, but today he had claimed the mead had made him drowsy and had passed the duty to Ezekiel.
“What were you saying?” he asked.
“…I was asking about Miss Iris!”
Ezekiel’s ears perked up.
Felicia hesitated, her expression one of deep dissatisfaction, before finally forcing the words out.
“Yesterday, Sir Etienne kept going on about how pretty she is.
It is bothering me.”
So that was it.
Ezekiel could not help but smile.
“You are pretty too, Lady Arbois.”
“I hate the ‘too’!” she snapped.
“I am supposed to be the prettiest!” She was only seventeen, after all.
It was only natural that she would be jealous of the girl who had captured Etienne’s attention.
“Sir Etienne does not understand my feelings at all.
How much I love him…”
Her honesty was, he had to admit, one of her better qualities.
“I do not think that is true,” he said, his smile unwavering.
“And how would you know, Your Highness?”
“Do you know what my brother said just a few days ago?”
“What?”
Ezekiel cleared his throat.
“He said that his only partner is you, Lady Felicia.”
“…Really?” Her face lit up.
Ezekiel nodded.
“Indeed.” A pang of guilt pricked him as he spoke.
“You know Felicia is the only one for me.” Etienne had said those words, yes.
But only after speculating about what it would be like to marry Iris.
Still, Ezekiel was certain his brother would not do anything truly foolish.
Etienne was the heir to the empire.
Just as Ezekiel was born for the church, Etienne was born for the throne, and he desired it above all else.
He would never risk his engagement to the daughter of Duke Arbois for the daughter of a baron with a single-generation title.
‘…Right?’ A strange, baseless anxiety lingered.
He pushed it down and smiled at Felicia.
“My brother has no doubt that you are his betrothed.
Please, do not worry so.”
“Thank you.
Well, I know that, of course.
I am the first daughter of Arbois, after all!
No other lady can offer such a dowry!”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.
I feel much better!” Her mood lifted, Felicia began to skip.
Loving the mercurial Etienne must be an exhausting trial for someone of her temperament.
On the walk back, Ezekiel did his best to keep her spirits up with lighthearted jokes.
It did not take long to return to the others.
But as they approached the picnic spot, they were met with an unbelievable sight: Etienne, leaning over a reclining Iris Quillucsia, pressing his lips to hers.