Chapter 4: The Third Prince’s Predicament

 

 

 

Chapter 4: The Third Prince’s Predicament

 

THE king of Luducia had three sons and one daughter.

The First Prince was brilliant, skilled in both the arts and fighting prowess. Having already finished his investiture to formally acknowledge his position as next in line for the throne, he was preparing as much as possible for his future role.

The Second Prince, two years younger, supported the crown prince and was involved with the Knights of the Royal Guard.

The youngest child, the princess, was still quite young, but anyone who saw her spoke of how greatly she resembled the queen, and she had already received many offers of marriage.

In the shadow of such renowned siblings was the Third Prince, Edward Leo Luducia.

The exemplary First Prince and the irreproachable Second Prince made a complete set—the star performer and the understudy. Under such circumstances, the Third Prince, born nearly a decade afterward, was simply a spare, an extra.

As parents, the king and queen loved all their children.

But there was just one tiny little hang-up… The king and queen also knew that a power struggle for succession among their children would quite easily plunge the kingdom into chaos. For that reason, the royal children were assigned a strict hierarchy and given very clear roles. This would keep them from becoming the pawns of ambitious aristocrats, protect against unrest in the kingdom, and prevent foreign powers from turning the situation to their advantage. Lastly, these measures allowed for children born to the royal family to be able to live their lives with as few cares as was reasonably possible.

The king reserved his expectations and instructions for the First Prince alone. He had some direct contact with the Second Prince, too, but his contact with the Third Prince had been, since his infancy, almost nonexistent.

Edward was receiving a sufficient education, although not as an immediate successor might. However, even here he was overshadowed by the brilliant First Prince and his flawless assistant the Second Prince, owing in part to their large age difference.

When the two older princes married their brides from foreign kingdoms and began producing more direct heirs to the throne, a path was set up for Edward to leave the royal family through a dukedom that had been established for him.

The process of selecting a fiancée for the Third Prince had a secondary purpose—adjusting the balance of power among high-ranking aristocrats by arranging for a Luducian noble lady to become his wife.

But the Third Prince understood why his parents, the king and queen, put these rules into place. Now that he had learned so much and gone through certain undesirable experiences himself, he empathized with them to the point that he thought he might have made the same decisions were he in their position. Since coming to these realizations, fewer people with ulterior motives tried to cozy up to him, but no one at the royal palace ever openly gave him the cold shoulder either.

Edward was not currently doing anything directly supporting the kingdom, like his two older brothers; nor was he expected to fulfill a certain niche role, as his little sister, the only princess, was required to.

He wasn’t allowed to do anything that would draw undue attention to himself or get him in serious trouble. His role in this family unit was, for better or worse, air… Occupying space, yet completely invisible.

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“I hear you’re getting engaged, Ed.”

“Alec!” Edward said, grinning as Alexander entered his private quarters. “I haven’t seen you in so long, and that’s what you lead with?”

Alexander flopped down on the sofa like someone who had done it a hundred times before. The maid in the room, no stranger to this sort of thing, laid out Alec’s favorite tea and snacks in front of him.

“You were going to keep this from your old friend? What am I now, a stranger?”

“That’s only because it came out around the time you got so busy with school you stopped coming over.”

“Oh? So now it’s my fault?”

“Should I have written you a letter about it?” Edward offered with a gentle smile.

Alexander shrugged awkwardly.

“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been over for a while.”

“I was just joking,” assured Edward. “So you live in the school dorms? Is it fun?”

“Yeah, everything’s so different there. But you’ll see what I mean when you start next year—you’ll be in for a shock.”

Edward made a noise of mild surprise, nodding happily along. He ordered the maids out of the room as he took a seat opposite the sofa. After making sure the maids were gone, Alexander began to speak.

“So…which lucky lady’s the favorite to win?”

“I don’t think there is a favorite to win,” Edward said mildly. “Any of them would do the job fine, to be honest.”

“Really…?” Alexander asked, disappointed. “Well, I guess I figured you’d say something like that.”

“Really. If they’ve passed the scrutiny of the civil officials to make it to candidate status in the first place, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with them. I have no complaints.” Edward elegantly picked up a cup and saucer gilded with gold and spoke as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

Alexander frowned at him.

“Marriage is one of the few essential public duties the Third Prince is bound by,” Edward continued.

“You’re talking about it as if it’s happening to someone else.”

“I guess it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Which families are the candidates from? Any girls you’ve met before?”

Unperturbed by his questions, Edward readily gave him a few names—including the Northland family.

“Anyone you know, Alec?”

“I sat at a table with the daughter of the Marquess of Sandor at a tea party once. She’s older than I am and a real beauty. And the daughter of the Earl of Northland came to my house the other day.”

Edward made a noncommittal noise.

“Believe it or not, she adopted Tigger.”

“What?!”

Edward’s eyes widened into perfect circles at this unexpected news.

With that stupid expression, he’s finally starting to look his age, thought Alexander, looking at his long-time friend. Though Edward was one year younger, he had basically been forced to act like an adult since he was a child.

“Will Tigger be okay? He’s so shy…”

“You remember how he was really cautious around you at first, right? Well, with that girl, he was totally attached to her from day one. It even took my mother by surprise. The girl got along well with other cats, too, but in the end, she said she wanted Tigger. It sounds like she just really loves animals.”

“I can’t believe it! I just figured girls would be scared of a cat that big.”

“Right? But she’s unusual in more ways than one, that girl…”

“What does that mean…?”

Something about the way he’d said that gave off a different air than normal. But Alexander just shook his head.

“No way. If I tell you any more, you’re just going to get preconceived notions about her. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Edward pondered aloud and started to say, “I guess anyone would do the job, but—” but he caught himself midsentence and instead said, “Sure. I understand.”

Alexander would always shoot him a glare whenever he’d let a careless response slip out, and Edward would send him an embarrassed smile in return. Although only a year separated them, Alexander always acted like an older, wiser brother.

“You like animals, too, don’t you, Ed?”

“Like animals…? Yeah, I guess.”

He had his own reasons for hesitating. Liking animals seemed pretty straightforward, but Edward assumed he probably liked animals a little more intensely than the Earl of Northland’s daughter did.

With his position and the rules that came along with it, Edward had been reluctant to ever complain. He had Alexander as a friend, of course, but he still resisted airing his grievances to him. Instead, he could only ever confess his deeply repressed emotions to animals, like his dog or, when he took him out on long rides, his horse. If a friend meant someone you could talk to about anything, then animals were more than enough to qualify as Edward’s dear friends—probably even his best friends.

With a small smile at that thought, Edward tried to redirect the flow of conversation.

“That reminds me, Alec—you had a marriage interview, too, didn’t you?”

“You knew about that, huh? It was just a casual get-together, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. For one, I’ve got no interest in getting engaged or married yet. For another, she’s still just a kid.”

The meeting had taken place as planned the afternoon of the day he had first met Amy. The girl he met with was only six years old. The interview hadn’t been requested with any serious designs to contract a marriage but seemed rather to be the result of optimistic impatience. The proposal had no particular advantages for the Coverdales, but because the go-between had been a friend of the family, they had to meet at least once to preserve everyone’s honor.

Alexander hadn’t been putting on an act, but apparently his absentminded attitude made the other family sense that he was not interested. He got a long-winded lecture about it from his parents, but luckily for him, that was the end of it.

“Well… No matter how much I dislike it, I’m only really delaying the inevitable.”

“Why not say something?”

“Well, it’s just…complaining’s not really going to change anything, you know?” Alexander lapsed into contemplative silence for a moment before asking, “At least you can choose from your list of possible fiancées, can’t you?”

“Sort of.”

“Really take a good look at your candidates, Ed.”

Edward was shocked at the sudden seriousness that had slipped into his friend’s voice.

Alec was never like that. He always wanted to keep things light and joke around. That lightheartedness also helped distract Edward from his own feelings. He had been right—Alexander was acting odd today. He wondered if it had something to do with going to school or living in the dormitories.

“Until you make a decision, my hands are tied,” Alexander muttered.

“What?” Edward had totally missed what he said, too distracted wondering about the changes that had suddenly come over his friend.

“It was nothing,” Alec said, suddenly seeming to return to normal. He put down his teacup, stood up, and looked out of the window at the combat training grounds below. “Shall we head to the training field?”

They had been each other’s sparring partners since they were little, for both swordsmanship and magic.

Edward nodded and put his cup back on the saucer.

“That’s right—General Riley’s out there today.”

“What?” Alec groaned. “Are you serious?”

“He was really excited about it. Said he wanted to see if you’d been slacking since going off to school. It’ll be fun—Kevin said he wanted to come spar, too.”

“Kevin, too…? I, uh… I think I just remembered there’s something I have to do…”

“You’re not running away from this, Alec.”

A few minutes later, Alec could be seen heading toward the training grounds, head and shoulders slumped over slightly, accompanied by a very pleased Edward.

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ON the day Edward had met his fiancée candidates, the sky had been clear and blue all morning.

Because the tea party was occupying the inner garden of the royal palace, they would have needed to reschedule if the weather turned stormy. And postponing or canceling the event would have been a huge hassle, considering the burden on the administrative officials in charge of organizing the event, as well as the knights and maids responsible for security and all other preparations.

So Edward, who had no way of knowing there had been at least one lady among his candidates who had desperately prayed for rain, sighed with relief when a maid pulled back his curtain and he was met only with sunshine.

The Third Prince had worried himself so much over what the weather would be like that he had spared no thoughts at all to the reason for the whole event—his future wife.

And even then, he only really ever thought of it in terms of the lead-up to his official duties as Third Prince, which would increase after his fifteenth birthday, when he came of age.

“Look, Prince Edward! Come this way. You can see the ladies from here!”

“That’s all right. I can see them when I meet them in the garden.”

“Oh, come now, Your Highness, don’t be like that. It looks like almost all the candidates have arrived!”

Edward had been waiting in a second-floor room overlooking the inner garden below. The head maid, who had been with Edward since he was a child, beckoned him over to the window.

“Everyone looks so gorgeous, don’t they? Princess Florence will look just like them in a few years…”

“Don’t get so close to the edge, Hannah.”

The large windows had incredibly slim railings, constructed more for decoration than for safety. Not to mention, even though they probably wouldn’t be noticed from the angle below, it would be very awkward if the ladies realized they were being watched.

Nevertheless, it was only natural that the senior head maid—who usually interacted with only adults and his little sister, Princess Florence, in the course of her duties—would be interested in the young ladies.

As she beckoned him again, Edward put on a forced smile and approached. The faint, elegant voices of the ladies below drifted through the open window.

“Don’t you think that canary-yellow dress would look good on Florence?”

“I think Flo would like it in light pink better.”

“Yes, I’m sure she would agree with you there,” said Hannah, nodding her head fondly, the smile lines at the corners of her eyes deepening.

When Edward saw his sister last week, she was covered in pink, from her head ornament to her shoes. He had heard it was a phase a lot of little girls went through, but he was still surprised when he saw the stuffed rabbit that she would never part with had suddenly become pink, too.

“There’s the Marchioness of Sandor and Lady Judith. She is three years your senior and has already debuted… She’s the very picture of femininity, is she not? On the other side is Lady Christina, the one wearing the hat with the camellia flowers, who is the daughter of the Earl of Levit, and—”

“I’ve already read their files, Hannah.”

“Your Highness!” she chided. “This lady might one day be your wife!”

Edward had already looked over all the portraits and documents that had been brought to the antechamber where they were currently waiting. He simply pointed to the mountain of papers stacked on the table. Hannah let out a quiet sigh.

As Hannah doubled as the go-between, Edward understood her concern that he should show a little more interest.

But, Edward thought to himself, they all look the same.

The civil officials chose the ladies assembled in the garden because they were “in good order.” Their appearance, their status, their etiquette… He was sure even their thoughts were in good order, too. They had checked off all the boxes, their temperaments deemed suitable for a princess consort. They were like dolls that had passed all quality checks, ready for sale.

He could easily imagine how similar they would look and speak when he went down to the garden to talk with them. He was told it wouldn’t be like that when he actually met them, but he was doubtful. Nothing set them apart other than the color of their dresses.

“But then again, they must see me superficially, too.”

The ladies gathered here, vying for the position of princess consort, must have surely only seen him as his title, the Third Prince.

On the ground, the garden was bustling with activity, but under the brilliant veneer, everyone was strategizing. The feeling was palpable in the air.

I’d rather go for a long horse ride than to a tea party like this. Nothing would feel better than turning my back to the garden, heading to the stables, getting on my favorite horse, and riding under the cloudless sky.

But Edward never revealed his true feelings, not even to his long-serving maid.

“My apologies, Your Highness. Did you say something?”

“Just that it’s probably time to head out, don’t you think?”

“That’s right. If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll double-check that everything’s ready.”

Hannah took out a pocket-watch-shaped magical communication tool from her pocket and contacted the guards downstairs. From what he could overhear, he inferred that not all the guests had arrived yet.

Edward’s eyes had drifted from the window to the magical tool, waiting for the head maid to hang up before speaking.

“The Earl of Northland made that, right?” he asked.

The director of technology at the Institute of Magic had established a reputation for his inventiveness and skill. Many of the newer magical tools were born from the earl’s innovative, eccentric ideas. He was someone Edward would love to talk to if the opportunity arose.

“Yes, and I’m able to get many things done because of it! But speaking of which, they say the Earl of Northland’s daughter hasn’t arrived yet… Oh! Is that her just now…? Oh my!”

With one hand lying on the side of the window frame, Hannah let out a rare shout of surprise.

“What’s the matter?”

“How can she look so different from what I…I…”

Hannah regularly directed the younger maids to do tasks without ever raising her voice. She was always so steady and calm during sudden accidents. What on earth could have shaken her up this much?

The maid rushed to the table where the documents were stacked, muttering to herself how it was strange, how the portrait given before was different…

With a sidelong glance at her, Edward returned to the window. Looking down over the garden, he saw the mother who had just arrived, and then he saw…her daughter.

Her dress was made with an abundance of soft ivory lace. Other than a few yellow roses pinned to her matching hair accessory, which complimented her black hair, he couldn’t see any other accouterments. After entrusting her closed parasol to a maid, she waited for someone to show her the way. From what he could see from the second story, she had a figure that set her apart from the other ladies.

She’s chubby.

“Huh…”

The daughter of the Earl of Northland. She had been highly recommended by the civil officials.

Although he had never been directly told this, he knew it was so because her file had been placed at the top of the stack and because a triumphant report had been given when the officials had received the blessing of the Earl of Northland, who had at first protested that his daughter was too young.

He had heard that the earl was politically neutral and that the Margrave of Wallum, Amy’s grandfather, adored her. He also knew that Amy herself was known for having high magical aptitude and that her older brother was a skilled adventurer.

The ranking of an earl would not normally be suitable for a marriage to the royal family. But for the Third Prince, who needed to be as unobtrusive as air, it was indeed very fitting.

In other words, there would be few entanglements and many benefits from the match. There would almost certainly be no better partner.

From Amy Northland’s portrait, she looked very refined, indeed almost chilly. Her figure should have been petite and slender.

I don’t know about that…

“S-S-Something must have happened! She looks like a pig— No, that’s not… Oh my dear! Maybe she’s sick?”

“Her complexion looks good. It doesn’t look like she’s injured either,” Edward explained calmly to Hannah, who was looking in a panic from the portrait in her hand to the girl outside.

Sandwiched in between the maid guiding her and the knight guarding her, Amy slowly and with a light step made her way inside the venue—closer to the building where Edward stood. Although she seemed nervous with everyone’s eyes on her, alongside her mother she returned pleasantries flawlessly.

When Amy arrived at her table, she was presented with a huge plate full of all sorts of sweets, and she happily started to fuss over them. She would gaze at the fountain or the flowers, and from time to time, she and her mother would lean in toward each other to talk about something, smiling like they were actually enjoying themselves.

It was as if they had simply stumbled into a tearoom that happened to have magnificent scenery, so clearly out of tune with the tense undercurrent in the garden.

Perhaps caught up in the genuinely joyful atmosphere the pair radiated, even the maid and knight who accompanied them looked at ease.

“That Isabelle, what is she up to—”

“—She’s different.”

Hannah’s grumble overlapped with Edward’s private musing.

She was completely different from Edward, who always lived his life with his paramount concern being how “the Third Prince” was seen by those around him.

Even though Amy’s appearance was far removed from what was expected of her as a lady, the sight of her smiling naturally looked positively dazzling to Edward. In the crowd of girls who all looked the same, only one was different: Amy, the daughter of the Earl of Northland.

The words of his childhood friend echoed in his head.

But she’s unusual in more ways than one, that girl…

“Your Highness?”

“…I want to talk to her,” muttered the prince, not once taking his eyes off the garden. Hannah’s eyes widened.

After collecting herself, she quietly withdrew back into the room. She rebooted the magical tool in her hand once again and connected to the knight in the garden in charge of security.

“Who’s with Alyssa at the Countess of Northland’s table…?” she whispered in a low voice. “That’s right, it’s Darios… No, have him stay there. Tell him not to miss anything, because I’ll be talking with him later.”

Edward was so enraptured he couldn’t even hear the exaggerated murmurs of disappointment from the guests through the window as it was explained that the queen was unfortunately unable to make it to the tea party.