Chapter 40
Ever since Hanna had begun to suspect the nature of our relationship, Mikael and I decided that he should stop helping out at the gallery.
We didn’t want to keep exposing ourselves to her, and besides, there were occasionally customers who recognized him.
Since I was planning to close the gallery anyway, there was no need to take unnecessary risks.
On the day a visitor came by, I was alone, finishing up the day’s work and preparing to close.
The unfamiliar man who appeared said he had something to discuss with me.
“Memorial Hall?”
“Yes. His Majesty Emperor Fontrich has ordered that this gallery be preserved permanently.”
The man was a royal messenger—an emissary directly from the imperial palace. He continued,
“We understand that many are competing to purchase this gallery. His Majesty wishes to acquire it under the Fontrich name. Should the transaction proceed smoothly, you will be granted a reward of five thousand gold.”
“I’d like to think about it for a moment,” I replied, wanting time to clear my head after such sudden news.
He said he couldn’t wait too long and would step outside for a smoke—by the time he returned, I should have an answer.
When he left the shop, I sat there, deep in thought.
A memorial hall…
If the Fontrich royal family took ownership, it would certainly be the most ideal outcome.
The gallery would likely be preserved as a symbolic monument celebrating the Third Prince’s return.
All of the paintings would remain intact.
Compared to all the others who had approached me so far, the royal family was easily the most trustworthy buyer.
…But would Adolf like this?
After all, it was because of him that I’d refused Hanna’s interview requests and quietly prepared to close down.
I’d been trying to live quietly because Adolf might not like people digging into his past.
Just as I didn’t want anyone to uncover mine.
While I was still thinking, I heard the royal messenger re-enter the gallery.
He approached me and said,
“It’s time for your decision.”
“Alright. I’ll sell.”
“A wise choice.”
He smiled, as if he had expected all along that I wouldn’t refuse an offer from the imperial palace.
“However, I have one condition.”
“…What is it?”
He tilted his head, curious. I continued,
“This place still holds traces of His Highness the Third Prince. So I can’t make such a decision entirely on my own. He might think I’m trying to profit off his name.”
“……”
“Show me proof that His Highness himself approves of this transaction. Otherwise, there will be no deal.”
“What?”
“A letter, Your Highness. It arrived urgently from Lorentia. They request a prompt reply.”
Adolf stared at the rolled parchment his trusted knight, Enoch, handed him.
Lorentia. The name stirred a strange nostalgia.
Lying half-awake in bed, Adolf sat up abruptly.
He had never been particularly fond of the palace—but it was still home.
Since returning, he’d spent most of his days recovering from exhaustion, sleeping off the fatigue of travel.
“Who sent it?” he asked, half hoping, half fearing.
Could it be… Cassia?
Did she send this herself?
He’d already heard news articles about the gallery’s closure and the vultures circling to buy it.
He’d been wondering why Cassia had suddenly decided to sell.
Was she planning to come to the capital? And why so suddenly?
Enoch hesitated briefly before speaking.
“I understand that His Majesty’s aide is currently in Lorentia.”
“…You mean he sent this? Why?”
Adolf frowned slightly.
“It appears His Majesty intends to convert the famous Lorentia gallery into a memorial hall dedicated to you, Your Highness.”
“My father and his pointless ideas…”
Adolf shook his head.
He had more or less expected this from the moment he saw the letter.
His father, the Emperor, adored him far too much to leave that gallery alone.
The Fontrich Emperor had always wanted to groom Adolf as his successor.
To him, that small-town gallery was the perfect tool—a way to boost Adolf’s popularity among the common people.
It wasn’t surprising at all.
It was disappointing that the letter hadn’t come from Cassia, but still, it was an intriguing situation.
The messenger could have handled the transaction himself, so why reach out to him personally?
Curiosity flickered in Adolf’s eyes as he unfurled the scroll.
“…It seems there’s been a small issue with the purchase process.”
“I see.”
As Adolf read on, a faintly amused light began to spread in his eyes.
“It’s because of Cassia.”
“Pardon?”
“…That woman thought of me again.”
Adolf let out a soft laugh, a smile curling at his lips.
He rolled the letter back up and turned to his knight.
“Enoch, I’ll be sending a reply to Lorentia. I’ll write it myself.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll prepare the materials.”
Enoch set paper and a quill on the bedside table.
Adolf quickly began writing, his penmanship elegant and fluid.
Once finished, he rolled the letter and ordered it sent immediately.
When Enoch left, Adolf stood, stretching, and walked to the window.
He pushed the curtains aside, letting the wind in.
Below him spread the bustling city and the golden palace towers.
He murmured softly,
“I know it’s selfish, but I wish you’d come to the capital.”
…Then I could take care of you properly.
A wistful smile lingered on his lips.
“Do you see this?”
The next morning, a man from the palace came to the gallery and showed me Adolf’s letter.
“This is His Highness’s own handwriting, confirming his personal approval of the transaction.”
Indeed, in his graceful script, Adolf had written his consent to the gallery being turned into a memorial hall in his honor.
Satisfied that my condition had been met, I finally said,
“Alright, let’s proceed.”
And just like that, all rights to the place were transferred to the royal family.
Not long after he left, news of the deal spread quickly through newspapers and gossip.
People were thrilled to hear that the place where the Third Prince had once stayed would become a memorial hall.
To them, the mere fact that the Third Prince had returned after seven years was heroic.
Ever since his first debut in high society, his intelligence and striking looks had made him the favored candidate for the next emperor.
Time passed swiftly.
After handling all matters related to the gallery, I began preparing to leave for the capital.
I purchased a train ticket for the long journey from Lorentia and hired a wagon to transport my luggage.
Mikael quietly helped me every step of the way—
from finding a house in the capital to sorting out the endless documents required to settle there.
He was always by my side, helping with every little thing.
Before I knew it, the day before my departure had arrived.
The day before I was to leave Lorentia.
Thanks to all my early preparations, I found myself with free time that day.
Mikael and I decided to spend it reminiscing about the past.
My belongings had already been sent ahead to the capital by wagon.
To make the day special, Mikael had the count’s household send over fully prepared dishes from their kitchen.
We sat at the bare table in my now-empty house, sharing the food.
“The chef at the count’s manor hasn’t lost his touch. Eating this again—it feels like stepping back in time.”
“His cooking never changes.”
The steak, grilled to perfection, carried the chef’s signature flavor and sauce.
The nostalgic taste brought back memories of meals I’d had at Diana’s house when we were children.
“Wasn’t the chef’s name Anna? She must be quite old now.”
“That’s right. She’s always scolding me, saying I should treat her gently since she’s a grandmother now.”
The chef who’d raised both Mikael and Diana was practically family to the household.
I smiled at the memory, and Mikael glanced at me.
“I’m the master of the house, yet she still threatens me. Sometimes I feel it’s unfair.”
He chuckled, his tone lighthearted.
“Seeing how much you enjoy the food makes me think I should arrange a proper feast for you soon.”
“Yes, please do. I want to see her again someday, Mikael.”
My cheerful reply made him laugh.
The atmosphere was warm and easy.
After we finished eating, we sat side by side, drinking wine.
I rarely drank, but today I felt unusually lighthearted.
The wine—carefully chosen by Mikael—was excellent.
The sweet, fermented aroma of grapes mingled with the faint sting of alcohol on my tongue.
With my cheeks slightly flushed, I took another sip. Then Mikael glanced at me hesitantly.
“I hate to ruin the mood, but…”
“Yes? Go on, Mikael.”
“It’s about your move to the capital.”
His voice wavered slightly. I turned to face him.
Then Mikael said, quietly—
“Would it be too much… to ask you to think it over one last time?
