Chapter 2 : Perfect lady
1187 Words
Unapproachable. Cold. Too perfect.
She was used to hearing those things.
No, actually, she wasn’t used to it. She had simply learned how to put on a face that didn’t show she was hurt when she heard them.
“You lack charm,” they said.
“You’re not endearing,” they said.
No matter how many times she’s been told this, she doesn’t know how to fix it. If she laughs too much, she’s scolded for being frivolous; if she shows emotion, she’s reprimanded for lacking dignity. If she stays quiet, she’s called cold; if she’s composed, she’s called unapproachable.
So, what was she supposed to do?
Even though pondering such a question in this setting is a mistake in itself.
Dancing had begun in the center of the hall. Edward still hadn’t moved. Lydia, too, stands ready to accept an invitation at any moment.
But just then, Cecilia glided out of the circle of her friends. With light, graceful steps, she walked straight toward me.
I had a bad feeling.
That kind of feeling is usually right.
“Your Highness!".
Cecilia called out in a voice like the tinkling of bells. For a moment, the atmosphere around her brightened and seemed to dance, centered on her.
Edward’s expression, too, changed noticeably.
“Cecilia.”
“Oh, you called my name. I’m so happy.”
She said this and laughed merrily. Her laughter seemed entirely genuine. That’s precisely why she’s so troublesome, Lydia thought.
“Earlier, a count who had arrived from the west said he absolutely wished to pay his respects to Your Highness. But I wasn’t able to convey the message properly…”
“Which count was it?”
“Um, I believe it was Count Claude. Oh, but perhaps I’m mistaken. His son is doing quite admirably in military service—”
Her answer was vague. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d furrowed his brow. But far from getting irritated, Edward wore an expression that was almost a wry smile.
“You always miss the point.”
“I’m sorry. But I thought Your Highness would understand.”
An innocent reply.
She could see several people nearby watching the exchange with amused expressions.
Lydia hesitated, wondering if she should step in naturally. Managing the Crown Prince’s schedule and coordinating visitors had always been her role. If that were the case, she should fill in the gaps in Cecilia’s vague information and make the necessary arrangements to ensure His Highness could move about freely.
Having made that decision, she spoke up.
“Your Highness, if you are referring to the son of the Count of Claude, the Western nobles are gathered at the back of the second waiting room this evening. Perhaps you should go there—”
“I didn’t ask you.”
He cut her off sharply.
Lydia fell silent.
Edward finally looked at her. His eyes betrayed clear irritation.
“Don’t go butting in on everything.”
“…I apologize.”
She bowed her head reflexively.
A few people nearby looked away awkwardly. Cecilia let out a small, troubled “Oh my,” but it was unclear how much of that bewilderment was genuine.
Lydia quietly closed her fan.
She had been humiliated.
It took her a moment to realize it.
Her cheeks were burning. But she must not let it show. It was unthinkable for a future princess to reveal her emotions in the middle of a ball.
“Well then, I shall take my leave for a moment.”
It was just as she said this and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
At Edward’s voice, Lydia stopped in her tracks.
A deeply unpleasant sound echoed in the pit of her stomach.
Why?
Even though he had merely called her back, a chill crept down her spine.
Edward paused for a moment before handing his glass to a servant. His eyes remained, as always, somewhat sullen.
“I have something to discuss with you tonight.”
At those words, it felt as though the lights of the ballroom had dimmed slightly.
Lydia blinked.
“...A discussion, you say?”
“Yes.”
A brief reply.
She sensed Cecilia glancing between them with a puzzled expression. The nobles around them, perhaps sensing something as well, narrowed their gaze slightly in their direction.
Lydia straightened her posture inwardly.
He has something to discuss.
She knew full well that this was not good news.
His recent coldness. The number of times he looked away. The expression that softened only when he looked at Cecilia. The irritation that seeped through every time she spoke up. The small, accumulated discomforts were now beginning to take shape.
Even so, she kept her composure.
“Understood. Any time.”
“Come to the East Corridor after the ball is over.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
She curtsied.
That was the end of their conversation.
Edward had already shifted his gaze from Lydia to another guest. Cecilia was whispering something**** into his ear.
A new piece of music began in the ballroom. A cheerful melody rang out, laughter mingled with it, and the sweet scent of someone’s perfume rode on the breeze.
The soirée was proceeding without a single hitch.
The only thing in disarray was her own heart.
Lydia quietly slipped away from the group. Just stepping back a single step from the Crown Prince’s side, the air suddenly felt cold.
Even huddled in the shadow of a pillar, she couldn’t breathe properly.
“I need to speak with you.”
It was just those few words, yet why did they terrify her so?
In an instant, all the years of her life flashed through her mind.
Her training as a candidate for Crown Princess. Her father’s expectations. The stern voices of her teachers. Don’t laugh too much, don’t cry, don’t make mistakes, don’t lose your dignity, don’t bring shame upon the royal family. How desperately she had tried to memorize them all. How hard she had strived not to make a single mistake.
Was that still not enough?
Had she still failed at something?
Deep within her heart, the words of weakness she had locked away since childhood are knocking at the door—just for tonight.
—I’m scared.
But she cannot say it aloud.
She has been taught all her life that she is not in a position to utter such words.
Lydia slowly straightened her back.
It’s okay.
Nothing has been decided yet.
I’m just going to listen. It’s probably just a confirmation of something. There’s no need for me to jump to conclusions and worry. She tells herself this.
But she knew better than anyone that this comfort was as fragile as thin glass.
Across the hall, Edward was smiling.
At least, that’s how it looked to Lydia.
Beside him, Cecilia laughed with a brightness like spring.
In the dazzling light, that scene alone stood out with startling clarity, and Lydia gently lowered her gaze.
Tonight, something will end.
That premonition alone was quietly, yet surely, beginning to take shape deep within her heart.
- Writer
