Chapter 3 : Bertia (10 Years Old)

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"Welcome. Thank you very much for coming to visit... It has been a while, Prince Cecil."

"Thank you for inviting me. Yes, it's been a while, Lady Bertia."

It's Lady Bertia's tenth birthday.

During the past three months, I was unusually busy with a lot of different things and was unable to meet her. On finally meeting her, I notice that she seems a little... worn-out.

"What's the matter? Are you feeling ill?"

Preparations for her party are underway at this very moment, although only a small handful of family friends will attend it. Right after this, she'll be the star of the party.

As I volunteered to be her escort as her fiancé, I came to the Noches mansion a little early. But by the time I arrived, she had already gotten ready for the party.

She was wearing a faded gold-coloured or perhaps milk tea-coloured dress that closely resembled my hair colour. It looked a bit mature on a ten-year-old girl. In direct contrast to her charming clothing, her expression was clouded – she seemed somehow tired.

Despite this, fire blazes in her eyes as she glares at me resentfully.

"Your Highness, you're terrible!" she bursts out resentfully - immediately after we sat across each other in the drawing room and greeted each other.

"What?"

I am technically the crown prince, so normally, if someone said something like that to me, all the adults around me would go pasty white... but the only people in this room other than us, Zeno and Lady Bertia's two maids, have already gotten used to this. They nonchalantly prepare our tea for us.

Naturally, the black fox curled up on her lap continues to sway its tail at an even tempo.

"Lady Bertia, did I do something to make you twist your lovely face so?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"Argh! Argh! Argh!" she shouts suddenly. She picks up a cushion next to her with both hands and begins slamming it against the sofa.

It's a simple way to let out your temper in a way that doesn't harm others. It's additionally an incredibly easy way to demonstrate your anger.

... Though the black fox-lookalike on her lap doesn't seem too happy about this turn of events.

"... Ahem. Excuse me."

I drink some black tea that her maids prepared, waiting for her to calm down. But she calms down in just around thirty seconds. She returns the cushion to its original position, looking awkward, and turns back to face me. She coughs.

"B – but, your Highness, you're in the wrong as well. Just like we promised, I haven't talked about 'the past' with anyone but you. So – so – the only person I can talk to about my mother's situation is you, your Highness, but I haven't been able to see you for three months! It's my birthday today! Originally, my mother would have passed away by now! I wrote you so many letters while we couldn't meet, but all you would say was 'It'll be fine,' – I didn't know what I should do..."

... Her maids and Zeno are listening in as hard as they can, but apparently they don't count as 'people listening to the conversation' in her mind.

Well, a maid good enough to be employed in the House of Noches probably wouldn't reveal her master's murmurs and secrets to others, and my 'envoy' has reported that in fact no one has revealed such things, so it'll probably be fine.

As I muse about such things while listening to her grouching, she finally begins to cry, large tears dripping from her eyes.

Even I panicked a little at the sight.

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