The First Prince Feels Anxious

I—Christoph von Velfalt—adjusted my cravat in the mirror.

Inspecting my hair and clothes, I ensured that they were neat and tidy, then looked at my face’s reflection with a sigh. It was in an awful state. I always had a pale complexion and an unwelcoming gaze, but the addition of faint, dark bags beneath my eyes aggravated my unhealthy appearance.

A phantom image of my father crept into my mind, coldly chastising me: “No good statesman allows their weariness to show. Do better.”

My mood deteriorated.

I turned away from my mirror and looked outside the window. The morning sun was shining dazzlingly in the clear blue sky, and the breeze was gentle.

The seas will be calm. I recalled how my sister had looked when she’d visited my room last night. She’d grown taller since the last time I’d seen her, which had admittedly been quite a while ago, and she’d also seemed a little more grown-up. But to me, she was still my tiny and adorable little sister.

And now she was journeying to a distant country. Worse, only a single person was accompanying her, despite her inability to defend herself. The worry that I was feeling almost drove me insane.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I’d almost said. And more than once, I’d almost told her, “I want you to stay here where I can reach you.”

But I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to say those things.

“I leave tomorrow morning,” she’d said, and although I could see in her eyes that she was nervous, I couldn’t spot even a hint of doubt—she obviously felt secure in her decision and the path ahead.

Obstructing her will would do me no good. This was a step forward for her and I didn’t want to hinder that. Rather than be overprotective and smother her, I’d needed to simply act like an understanding older brother and see her off. As a result, my imagination had been plagued by every kind of dreadful wrong that could befall her, and these swirling thoughts had kept me up all night, burdening me with those bags beneath my eyes.

No wonder I was sighing at my own wretched state.

“Right.” I glanced down and shook my head once. I had much to do, and I couldn’t wallow in self-pity forever. Let me get my head straight and start some work.

I approached the table to gather some documents I’d brought back to my room. My hand reached out to pick them up, but I stopped, waited for a moment, and instead grabbed the book beside them. I cracked open the book and found a piece of paper nestled between the pages, which I’d hurriedly placed there when my sister had arrived the night before.

It had been folded over twice. I opened it and saw the neat handwriting on the page which belonged to my little brother—it was a letter, just like the others I’d gotten from him at regular intervals since his departure to study abroad. However, unlike the personal letters that arrived for Rosemary, which were sprinkled with seasonal greetings, this letter was unmistakably a report. He usually spaced his reports apart by a month, but this one had arrived very shortly after the previous one. Clearly, he had information to convey which he considered urgent.

The letter revealed that the first princess of Lapter would be traveling to Vint. To study, Lapter claimed officially, although I expected that it had more to do with the first prince of Vint. Lapter had exhausted all means of bolstering diplomatic relations with Vint, and at long last, they’d finally offered up their own princess. Marital ties were a simple yet effective method of uniting two countries.

It was still unclear how Vint would react. However, we couldn’t simply wait for their response; Vint might have an alliance with Nevel, but we needed to nip any uncertainties in the bud.

The king would take action, and his measures would likely include marrying Rose to Vint’s crown prince. I wasn’t certain of that yet, but if the king decided it, then Rose would have no right to refuse.

I could protect her from it, but that wouldn’t do. Not only would my intervention shatter her future, but it would also fail to solve any of the fundamental problems. The only way to change the situation was for Rose to change it herself. It seemed like an unfair position for a princess so young, but nothing less than wholehearted determination could hope to sway my father’s mind.

If she could demonstrate through her achievements, offer enough potential...then she might be able to convince the king that she’d be wasted on a diplomatic marriage. And then—

Two knocks at my door snapped me out of my thoughts.

I slid the letter back inside the book and replaced it on the shelf. Then I picked up the documents I’d initially been after and walked over to the door.

Leonhart was waiting outside. “Good morning.”

I returned his greeting. “Morning.” My eyes widened a little when I saw his face.

I was surprised to find the same bags under Leonhart’s almond eyes that I’d seen under my own in the mirror. There were dark splotches beneath Leonhart’s gaze, although they were so faint that I might’ve missed them had I not looked closely. He wasn’t as frail as I was, so I couldn’t imagine a mere day or two of missed sleep having this effect on him.

“Leonhart.”

“Yes?”

“Busy, are you?” I asked after rubbing beneath my own eyes with my index finger.

He smiled wryly, appearing to have understood what I was referring to. “I’m afraid to say that attending to personal matters has caused a backlog of work.”

Hearing that, my eyes widened once again. It was unthinkable for Leonhart to prioritize his personal business and neglect his duties. Certainly, his post as the captain of the royal guard would carry with it an enormous amount of work to do, but Leonhart could handle it all without breaking a sweat.

Unless something out of the ordinary has happened... Suddenly, I remembered what day it was today.

“Did she set off all right?”

There was a pause before Leonhart nodded. “Yes.” He looked embarrassed, like a child caught up to no good, which was a departure from his usual unflinching composure.

My hunch had been correct. I understood what personal business Leonhart had wanted to put first, even at the cost of having to work through the night—he’d gone to see Rose off. I couldn’t think of a parting gift that she’d welcome more than that.

Congratulations, Rose, I thought while picturing my sister, who was by now sailing across the ocean. I was still worried about what awaited her during the journey, but knowing that she was smiling at the moment of her departure warmed my heart somewhat.

Come back to me safe and sound, as soon as you can.

That’s the eternal wish of your feckless older brother.