Chapter 136

Gerald Adler took after his mother, Gloria.

Harold didn't know Gloria well, but he'd met Ryan Adler recently. There was little of Ryan to be found in Gerald's fine-boned face. The round shape of his face and the thin brown hair looked nothing like Ryan's. Unlike his older brother, Gerald's mildly downturned eyes were probably inherited from his mother too.

Somehow, Maya Peres — wide-eyed as she took in the banquet hall on Gerald's arm — gave off much the same impression as her fiancé. Her round eyes made her look a little like a curious herbivore. Maybe that was because what Anne had told him about her had stuck so hard.

Her braided hair decorated with flowers made her look less like a prince's fiancée than a girl fresh from her debut. Her pale green dress had been matched to Gerald's dark green formal wear. The brooch pinning Gerald's cloak was the same flower ornamenting his fiancée's hair.

Both were plainly adults, and yet somehow they came across as younger than they were.

Maybe it was because Maya Peres was chattering at her fiancé, gazing around the hall like it was a marvel. Or maybe it was the prince's mild face as he answered his flushed fiancée's questions.

"……"

Harold pulled his eyes off the prince and his fiancée and checked on Grisha. He was still pale. Grisha, like Harold before him, still had his eyes locked on the pair who'd just entered. Worried, Harold tapped him lightly on the back.

Only then did Grisha blink and let out a breath.

"You all right?"

"……We can't get into it any further here. I'll fill you in properly after the banquet."

"No one's listening."

"No. Not here."

Grisha barely managed to steady his breathing. Color was coming back to him bit by bit, but the tension in his shoulders was still a worry.

Harold wanted to ask if he'd rather leave, but the tension all through Grisha's body made the answer plain.

"Anyone looking at us right now?"

Grisha asked, barely moving his lips.

"A few. Most of them are looking at the prince."

"……Cover me for a moment."

Harold shifted a fraction to block the sightlines aimed at Grisha. Grisha drew a small silk pouch from inside his jacket.

Harold was wondering what it was when a blue cameo brooch came out of the pouch. A Reichnek family cameo, carved with a horse's profile. It resembled the pieces Claudia often wore, with one difference: a short gold chain had been fixed to the brooch. At the end of the chain hung a flower made of diamonds and pearls.

Grisha pinned the brooch to his chest. He checked, too, that the pin holding the flower ornament in place wouldn't come loose. The blue cameo was already an eye-catching piece, but the jeweled flower — small as it was — shone dazzlingly, as if it were lit from within.

Harold knew what it was. It was what Claudia had asked Grisha to deliver. Grisha had smiled contentedly reading Adelheid's letter, but the moment he'd opened Claudia's package his face had darkened.

It was a betrothal gift. Something exchanged between Waldemar Alharn and Claudia Reichnek when they'd promised each other forever. More precisely, it had been a gift Claudia had given to Waldemar.

The flower made of diamonds and pearls was the symbol of House Alharn.

"There."

"……You could have just worn your glasses instead."

"I'm saving those for later."

They were old friends, but Grisha had his strange moments. Probably Albrecht's influence. Harold shook his head as he followed him.

Originally, House Alharn's flower was the same gold as the family's signature hair color. A flower shining white with diamonds and pearls wasn't something people would recognize right away. But anyone with a sharp eye would catch it.

What the hell was so great about being king that people put up with headaches like this?

Maybe it was because he mostly saw people who wanted nothing to do with the position — Harold couldn't wrap his head around it. Even Ryan, sitting in that seat right now, loathed it.

But there were those who let themselves be jerked around by that absurd crown. If they were people who wanted to wear the crown themselves, that at least would be easier to understand. But swarming in like moths to a flame, whispering about who'd sit in that hollow seat — that he couldn't grasp.

Still, just because he didn't need it didn't mean others were bound to feel the same. Harold hid his frustration. In any case, what mostly drove Grisha was a sense of responsibility, and Harold was here to look after him.

At the very least, he ought to do the job he was given.

"……"

Fortunately — or unfortunately — no one blocked Grisha's path outright or openly tried to strike up conversation. But even if people didn't recognize the "flower," the gaudy ornament, glittering brightly enough to hurt the eyes, drew every gaze. All the more so because it clearly hadn't been there just moments earlier.

"That's got to be……"

"Something the Duchess used to wear?"

"Shh."

But there were people who recognized it.

Not just the flower shape itself — they knew the story tied to the blue cameo too. Waldemar Alharn had worn that brooch at public functions. Fairly often, in fact. He wasn't the sort to hide his love for his fiancée out of shyness.

While Harold was committing the whisperers' faces to memory—

Second Prince Gerald found Grisha.

"Good evening, Your Highness."

"Ma-Marquis Roys."

Gerald looked glad to see Grisha, yet at the same time he wore an expression that said he wanted to bolt at any moment.

For the Second Prince, who'd always trailed after his older brother, this was the first time he'd stood in the spotlight without that kind of shield. Even so — maybe because his fiancée was beside him — he was somehow holding his ground. For that much, at least, Harold gave the man credit.

"This is my fiancée, Lady Maya. You were introduced to her before, I believe……"

"Yes. His Majesty introduced us then. Have you been comfortable staying in the capital, Lady Peres?"

"Thanks to your concern, I've been fine!"

Maya Peres answered with real gusto. For a young girl, it would have been cute. For a prince's fiancée…

Harold cut the tangled line of thought short. What was the point of measuring her against outdated etiquette? Grisha would handle everything.

Instead, Harold looked at the woman standing at attention behind Maya Peres. Her outfit was close to a city watch dress uniform. She was the only person inside the hall carrying a sword.

When Anne's eyes met Harold's, she gave the faintest possible nod in greeting.

---

A few days earlier. Bertholdt manor, in the capital.

"And Prince Gerald?"

"Sorry?"

Harold didn't blink, like a raptor with prey in its sights.

"You said you hated Carlisle. But Gerald isn't Carlisle, is he."

"……"

"How about Gerald? Compared to Marquis Roys."

He put deliberate weight on 'Marquis Roys.' Anne twitched a little, but quickly composed herself.

"You'd know that better than I would."

"……"

Harold's eyes were sharp — sharp enough to pierce right through Anne. A blue that had settled deep, like the instant before a storm broke. One wrong move and she'd feel teeth at her throat. And be devoured. Once he bit down, he wouldn't let go until her breath stopped.

"Mm. My tone was off."

But the beast's breath, hovering at her throat, quickly drew back.

"I'm not trying to blame you."

"……"

"It'd be ridiculous of me to sit here nagging you about what you're doing."

In that brief span, her back had gone soaked with sweat. Harold laughed easily enough, but knowing what he was capable of pulling off without so much as a change of expression, she couldn't afford to relax.

A beast made no promises to a human. Harold might feel regret, but if he decided something needed doing, he wouldn't hesitate.

"No, seriously — I'm not lying. I told you, I'm not threatening you either."

"……Right."

"This is purely a check-in. You've helped me all this time, and going forward… I'll probably need your help again."

Harold spoke offhandedly, as always.

Anne, wary of him, still nodded. Being assigned to Maya Peres's protection didn't mean she planned to give up her active cases. Edgar and Edwin, the boys she'd known since infancy, were precious nephews to her too.

Even if she was pushed into choosing, she had no intention of casually giving those children up.

"But if we end up not seeing eye to eye, we'll need some kind of line."

"……"

"So we don't step on each other's toes. Understood?"

Anne gave Harold an odd look. The beast that a moment ago had been baring its teeth and snarling was now doing an impression of a human.

But — well. This wasn't her first day watching him do it. It had been nearly seven years since she'd seen the senior officer, and he'd been coming across as so human she'd almost been taken in. This was the Harold Anne knew.

Harold Bertholdt — a monster passing for human.

With Albrecht dead, the leash was in the hands of his eight-year-old nephews. No — those boys weren't so much holding the leash as being the leash itself. Whoever was actually holding it wasn't the children; it was Marquis Roys. At the very least, Harold would go through the motions of following Marquis Roys's orders.

"……I don't know Marquis Roys the way you do, senior."

Anne opened her mouth carefully, so as not to provoke the beast.

If she said she'd never considered the point Harold had raised, that would be a lie. Anne wasn't that careless.

"So I can't be as certain as you are. Even if he became king, I have no conviction that things would get better. It's not that I dislike him — I just… don't know him."

Harold didn't react to what Anne said.

"As for Prince Gerald… hard to say. It's a continuation of what I said before, but I think he'd be a good fit for the Adler marquis house. No matter how hard I try, I can't picture Gerald Adler with a crown on."

"……"

"If he showed up wearing a crown, I'd kneel in front of him. Regardless of how I feel about the First Prince, if that man had the crown on, it would be the same."

Anne, a little embarrassed, spoke without holding back.

"I don't want to be the kind of person who helps someone put a crown on. If I'd had that kind of ambition and sense of duty, I wouldn't have gone into the city watch."

"You joined the city watch to spite your father, didn't you?"

"……Would you please forget about that already."

"Hard to forget."

Harold snorted. Anne cleared her throat to hide her awkwardness.

"If I helped Prince Gerald, it would be out of pity. And I don't think you should pick a king out of pity alone."

"……"

"I'd like it if Lady Peres didn't end up hurt. That poor girl really did get swept into this."

Anne spoke with a displeased look.

"Aside from that, I'll help."

"……Are you sure?"

"You're asking me now? I'm sure. It's not like there's much you'd actually need my help for anyway."

"You're the city watch's rising star, Inspector Archibald."

At Harold's put-on admiration, Anne's face scrunched up. It was rare for her to glare at Harold this openly.

"You've already got eyes and ears inside the city watch, haven't you. Honestly — do you actually need my help?"

"……"

"Don't clam up on me, senior."

"Ha ha ha."

"And don't laugh."

"Of course I need Inspector Archibald's help."

"Never mind……"

Knowing full well Anne would be annoyed, Harold curled the corners of his mouth up in a smug, punchable smile.

Still, it was a relief. Cutting out a junior he'd known this long would have been a shame.