Chapter 161: Will You Do It for Me?
Late at night, in the Crown Prince’s palace.
Frederick, who had been reading a report, covered the paper with an irritated expression.
It was because the content indicated that supporters of Lucas among the nobles were gradually increasing.
‘Lately, even Father has been showing a lot more interest in my brother, so this could be troublesome. At least for now, it seems like my brother has no interest in the throne…’
But who knew what might happen. If those around him egged him on, there was a high chance Lucas would develop ambitions too. Meaning that the offspring of a mere concubine, not even the Empress, might dare to dream beyond his station.
With a sensitive expression, Frederick let out a sigh steeped in fatigue and thought to himself without realizing it.
‘Nothing ever goes my way.’
Tracing back to when that started, it all began with Damian’s appearance.
Without any warning or omen, one day he suddenly married Aracila on his own whim, and from then on, cracks began to form in Frederick’s once-solid life path.
‘Damian Vandemir, so blatantly sticking close to Aracila…’
He recalled the sight of the two dancing like a painting at the delegation welcome party, and the scene at the court concert where they were glued together, holding hands affectionately.
Unable to suppress the unbearable displeasure, Frederick furrowed his brow. Every time he saw him, it irked him how Damian always talked back defiantly.
Even at the end of the concert, when their eyes met as he was leaving, Damian provocatively wrapped his arm around Aracila’s shoulder.
In that moment, a surge of anger welled up, but Frederick endured it.
There was no need to publicly show the Crown Prince clashing with a sword master during the New Year’s festival. That wasn’t what he was aiming for.
‘Anyway, he won’t be able to act so arrogantly for much longer. This New Year’s festival will be his last.’
Frederick forcibly calmed his boiling emotions and checked his schedule for tomorrow. Suddenly, a good idea came to mind, and the corners of his mouth subtly lifted.
He rang the bell to summon a servant and said,
“Tomorrow, before the competition, quietly tell Duke Vandemir to come see me.”
The horseback riding competition on the second day of the New Year’s festival was held in Katapi Forest, the closest to the imperial palace.
Word had spread that a special gift would be given to the person who circled the forest and arrived first.
Aracila, not particularly tempted by the gift, chose to skip participating and just watch. In contrast, Damian decided to join, living up to his name as the commander of the Red Hawk Knights.
“But what does being good at riding horses have to do with being a knight commander?”
In the carriage heading to Katapi Forest, Aracila suddenly asked. Damian, who had been gazing out at the rapidly approaching forest, replied calmly.
“People tend to assume that if you’re skilled with a sword, you’ll be good at everything physical. There are probably folks expecting me to win today’s competition.”
“Hmm, thanks to those narrow-minded types, you’re going through unnecessary hassle.”
“That’s true. At least it’s a relief that it’s not a gladiatorial contest where lives could be at risk.”
Since royals and nobles from other countries were participating, if it had been a gladiatorial event, it would have been even more annoying for Damian. There was bound to be at least one person itching to challenge a sword master.
The carriage stopped at the forest’s entrance. They got out and walked inward, where a wide clearing appeared, dotted with tents everywhere.
Today, the two had coordinated their outfits in blue, drawing many glances from those around them.
“Oh, Sir Vandemir. I heard you’re participating in today’s competition. Give it your best.”
“I hear you’re quite the rider? I once read an article about you galloping across a chasm between cliffs.”
“This will be a chance to show off one of our empire’s top talents to people from other countries.”
Damian’s words about people expecting things from him weren’t wrong. Indeed, some approached to offer words of encouragement.
Aracila narrowed her eyes as she observed them, then whispered quietly.
“It feels like some are deliberately acting overly friendly. Or is that just my imagination?”
“It’s not your imagination. But it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
Damian replied firmly. He had already noticed that most of the nobles approaching him like that were from the faction supporting Lucas.
Having toppled Marquis Grant, the Crown Prince’s closest aide, their intentions to pull him to their side were transparent.
If Lucas had accepted his proposal earlier, it might have been different, but since Lucas had shown his refusal, Damian had no intention of getting involved with them.
It could end up harming Lucas otherwise.
“Participants, please head to the yellow tent on the east side to receive your horses!”
At that moment, the imperial servants wandering around shouted at the top of their lungs.
Damian excused himself, saying he’d be back shortly, and left. Aracila stood quietly, surveying her surroundings.
Participants who had arrived earlier and received their horses were warming up, bonding with their mounts, and preparing for the competition in various ways.
‘Hmm, is it because of the special gift? Everyone looks pretty serious.’
Even though it was a one-time event heavy on entertainment, many participants showed real enthusiasm.
Aracila scanned the people with indifferent eyes, then paused her gaze on a young couple. Even from a distance, their lovey-dovey atmosphere was palpable.
“I’ll definitely come in first today and present the gift to you.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard, darling. Just your words make me incredibly happy.”
The noblewoman, flashing a radiant smile, drew close to her husband. She lifted slightly onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Chu.
Startled by the clear sound that rang out, Aracila turned her head away. To openly display such affection in a place full of people.
Just then, Damian returned with a glossy brown horse and gave her a puzzled look as she stood with her head turned unnaturally.
“My lady, why are you standing like that?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Really. How’s the horse? It seems decent?”
Aracila changed the subject quite naturally. Damian nodded lightly.
“Yes, it’s not bad. As expected from a horse managed by the palace, it’s above average.”
Still, it would feel unfamiliar and less in sync compared to the one he usually rode, but that was a condition shared by everyone.
Aracila reached out and stroked the horse’s neck. The horse, with its soft fur, remained docile even under a stranger’s touch.
The horse seemed inherently gentle by nature. Considering that some people were already struggling with their mounts, this meant they’d gotten quite a good horse.
“The horse is well-behaved.”
“Yes, that’s fortunate. There are quite a few horses that are picky about their riders.”
“Exactly. Luckily, you won’t have any accidents like falling off…”
It was at that moment that Aracila’s peacefully flowing voice was interrupted by an outrageous sound.
“Kiss? Kiss! Give me a kiss!”
Cough. Aracila choked on her saliva and let out a small cough. Damian’s expression also looked off, as if he’d heard the same thing.
They turned their heads in shock, and there stood a man and woman in exotic attire. They appeared to be a couple from a foreign delegation.
The man, with a thick, dark beard densely covering his chin, spoke in a low, gruff voice, using the imperial language somewhat clumsily.
“I’ve heard that in the Setron Empire, there’s a custom of cheering on your husband with a kiss on the cheek or lips before a competition. Let’s do it too.”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
The woman planted resounding kisses on her husband’s cheek and then his lips in turn. The sounds were much louder than what Aracila had heard earlier.
The two of them stared blankly at the cringeworthy scene, and suddenly their gazes met.
“Uh…”
“…Ahem.”
Having vividly witnessed another couple kissing, an awkward tension inexplicably settled between them.
Aracila kept fiddling with the hair that Audrey had carefully brushed for her, and opened her mouth sheepishly.
“Um, does our country have such a custom?”
“…I’m not entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem entirely absent.”
Damian quietly shifted his gaze to the side. Sure enough, couples were kissing each other on the cheeks or lips here and there.
They accompanied the gestures with encouragements like “Do your best” or “Come back safely.”
‘Wait, if they’re all doing it, it feels like I have to do it too.’
Burdened by the heavy weight on her shoulders, Aracila screamed silently inside.
If she just ignored it, well, those invited to the New Year’s festival were typically the heads of noble houses, so the vast majority came as couples. Even among the delegations, many had brought their spouses to match.
In other words, there were far too many people around unwittingly demonstrating this imperial custom that the two of them hadn’t known about to simply disregard.
‘Should I do it? But Damian probably doesn’t like this sort of thing. I don’t want to force unwanted physical contact.’
Aracila scanned for couples who weren’t following the custom. Naturally, there were some.
The problem was that half of them were infamous for having poor relationships, and the other half were long-married pairs who had lost interest in each other.
Aracila and Damian fit neither category, and even if they did, they couldn’t afford to show it.
As Aracila pondered what to do, Damian glanced down at her thoughtfully and slowly rubbed the back of his neck. He spoke deliberately.
“My lady.”
“Yes?”
“…Will you do it for me?”
He asked cautiously. So cautiously, in fact, that he omitted the subject and object, and it took Aracila a few seconds to understand.
“Um, would it be okay if I did?”
“If you’re fine with it, I don’t mind.”
“I’m okay with it too, but…”
A kiss was a light form of affection she’d often shared with family as a child, so she had no aversion to it. But she’d never done it with anyone outside her family, let alone someone of the opposite sex.
As Aracila hesitated a bit, Damian bent slightly at the waist, tilting his face toward her. He was taking the initiative to close the distance.
‘I can’t let such a perfect opportunity slip away.’
It was a golden chance to satisfy his personal desires fully.
His ears flushed red with anticipation and excitement over what would be nothing special for an ordinary couple—a cheek kiss—and he tapped his cheek lightly with his finger.
“I’d be grateful if you did it here.”
“It’s not exactly something to be grateful for…”
Suddenly feeling like she was the only one overthinking it, Aracila summoned courage from somewhere and abruptly pulled Damian’s neck toward her.
Her soft, moist lips touched his cheek. The sensation was as plush as a cat’s paw.
A shiver ran through him, making his fine hairs stand on end, and Damian froze like a statue.
After a sound somewhere between a smack and a peck, Aracila pulled her lips away, her ears burning bright red.
“Do well, okay?”
Even to her shy, uncharacteristically timid encouragement, Damian didn’t budge. Only after a long pause did he finally move, fidgeting with his cheek.
Seeing him touch the spot where her lips had pressed firmly and then released made Aracila even more embarrassed, and she turned her head to stare into the distance.
“Ahem, ahem, why is it so hot?”
She fanned herself with her hand and muttered to no one in particular, when suddenly someone caught her eye.
Silver hair just like Damian’s, shoulders slightly hunched, glancing around suspiciously with a petty demeanor.
It was Oscar Vandemir.
For some reason, he was warily making his way between the tents. Realizing the direction led toward the red tent reserved for the imperial family, Aracila furrowed her brows in confusion.
‘People usually don’t go that way unless necessary.’
Unable to shake a vague unease, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Oscar’s retreating figure, when Damian cleared his throat lowly and spoke.
“Thank you for the encouragement, my lady. I’ll be off then.”
“…What? Oh, yes. Be careful and do well.”
“Yes, my lady.”
With a faint smile, Damian led his horse toward the starting line. Participants were gathering there one by one, mounting up.
Aracila also headed to the tent set up near the starting line, settling into a spot with the clearest view.
“The competition will begin shortly! Participants, please prepare!”
A servant holding a white flag announced boomingly. Damian mounted his horse, gripped the reins tightly, and readied himself to race off.
It was then that an unwelcome figure approached his side.
Upon arriving in front of the red tent, Oscar inhaled deeply in excitement. His chest swelled and then deflated sharply.
With a face mixing thrill and tension, he addressed the additional curtain draped inside the tent.
“I-It’s Oscar Vandemir.”
The curtain then slid open to both sides. As Oscar stepped in, the servants holding it exited outside.
Inside the spacious tent, only Oscar and Frederick, who had summoned him, remained.
Facing the Crown Prince, who stood with his hands behind his back, Oscar babbled in a voice filled with awe.
“I’m truly grateful that you’ve called for me, Your Highness. I’ve heard so much about you from my father. From a young age, you’ve been wise and born with the qualities of an emperor, so everyone is certain you’ll be the next—”
“You’re not much like your father.”
The smooth voice cut off Oscar’s words abruptly. Frederick turned slowly, pulling only at his lips as he looked at him.
“Not just in appearance, but in being unnecessarily talkative as well. At least Duke Vandemir knows when to hold his tongue.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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