“Sir, do you mean that this matter is on your mind?”
“...I'm simply paying for my stay with a reasonable accommodation fee, right? It's only natural that I'm worried about the princess.”
Oh. Is this how things work?
I ran my hand over the area near my rapidly beating heart, and fixed my gaze on the teacup in front of me.
If I raised my head now, he would definitely notice my redness.
The weather was getting weird, until it almost got out of control. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I forced myself to laugh as if nothing had happened.
“But you don't have to worry about dessert either!”
Wait, was it just my imagination, or did his face look a little red as well?
The Duke briefly ran his hand over his face before regaining his usual calm expression.
It happened so fast that I wondered if I had just imagined seeing his flushed cheeks.
He shook his head, his usual calmness returning.
“These are the employees. They personally made a sincere request to the confectioner, asking him to go the extra mile.”
“Huh?”
His next words left me with my mouth open in shock.
Apparently, ever since I collapsed, everyone has been paying meticulous attention to every little thing — from the temperature of my shower water to the ingredients used in my meals.
...It was complete and overprotective!
“…However, the princess was still thinking about work.”
I flinched at his remark, feeling like a guilty thief caught red-handed.
“Oh, that was just... I was reading a letter by chance, and...”
“I think I will have to order the removal of all reading materials from the princess’s room.”
"impossible!"
I could only raise my voice in protest at this ridiculous suggestion. Honestly, I've already endured too much!
I just wanted to catch a glimpse of the comic book production process out of curiosity, but the minute I arrived, everyone insisted that the new story writer, Baroness Bavron, shouldn't get her hands dirty and practically chased me away.
It was the same whenever I tried to walk around anywhere – people would get upset and run away as if I was some kind of terrifying presence.
Thanks to this, I was spending my entire break experiencing what can only be described as a royal version of social exile.
I have so many responsibilities now that I can't go back to those happy days where I could relax and be lazy!
“I apologize,”
The Duke replied in a firm tone, apparently ignoring my inner turmoil.
“Isn’t it strange that reading a letter made you think about the project of building the ducal castle wall?”
“Hmm...”
Well, when it's put that way, I have to admit that my brain's thought process might be a little flawed.
But still…
Perhaps the Duke took my silence as approval, so he nodded with a satisfied look.
"I see you acknowledge that, too. That's a relief."
“That's not what I meant...!”
“Liam.”
In response to the Duke's call, Liam, who was standing nearby, immediately stepped forward.
“Yes sir.”
“Remove all reading materials from the princess’s room immediately.”
Liam adjusted his glasses and glanced at me.
“Understood. I’m sure the head maid and everyone else will be pleased.”
…Even if he didn't mean it, that smug look on his face was infuriating to the extreme. I gritted my teeth.
Why was everyone so happy about this?!
There was a limit to the injustice I could be subjected to!
I took a deep, frustrated breath, then got up from my seat.
“I'll get up now!”
“This won't work.”
“Huh?”
“While the staff is cleaning your room, it would be polite to finish off the vanilla flan that the confectioner has worked so hard on.”
Oh. correct.
This is something I used to say to the Duke myself often.
Delicious desserts had to be finished completely – even licking the plate clean was considered good manners.
“Princess, you're not one to go back on what they say, are you?”
“Okay...”
I had no counterargument. Defeated by his eloquent logic, I retreated to my seat.
Then, reluctantly, I took the rest of the flan and put it in my mouth.
...It was so incredibly delicious that I felt even more aggrieved.
The Duke spoke just as I was about to finish my plate.
“I recently allocated a 30% increase in my kitchen budget.”
I paused, my spoon still in my mouth, and turned my gaze from my plate to him.
Why bring up this topic now?
“The chef uses the extra money to buy all kinds of ingredients needed to prepare nutritious dishes.”
clatter.
My spoon fell to my plate when I realized something.
“Wait, don’t tell me…because of me?”
He wasn't saying that just to pressure me, was he?
They already offered me a discounted stay, and now they offer premium service on top of that?
Fortunately, the Duke seemed to anticipate my fears and immediately dismissed them.
“This was not my request.”
“…?”
“The head chef requested a 30% budget increase. I simply reviewed the request with my assistants and approved it.”
So, all these efforts – the nutrient-rich meals, the special attention – were not directly imposed by the Duke, but rather something everyone did on their own?
“Everyone is worried about you, princess.”
I've noticed it to some extent.
Bonita was more attentive to me than usual. Even the assistants, whom I had only spoken to a few times, offered me words of encouragement whenever we met.
Mrs. Lenny even personally knitted a blanket for me, saying it would help me recover.
Exhausted artists, struggling to meet deadlines, painted a huge landscape mural as a gift, in the hope of my speedy recovery.
Then there was Ian.
Due to his constant preoccupation with his main duties, he has been stationed almost constantly outside my room lately, standing guard.
Even an oblivious person would be able to tell that everyone was worried about me.
But what really surprised me was how even people I barely talked to were quietly taking care of me.
I thought only those close to me - like Bonita - would care.
“I heard there wasn't a single person in this house who wasn't indebted to you in one way or another.”
“Me? But I didn’t really do anything… I don’t even know the names of all of them…”
“You may have helped their families in some way. For example...”
The farmers, stranded at the dam construction site, were terrified that they would miss the harvest.
Women who struggled to find work and suffered from societal judgments.
Seasonal workers who roamed the vast continent in search of work.
...people who received direct or indirect assistance from the improvement of the Duchy's economy.
The Duke added a final note after his brief but important explanation.
“I also consider you important, princess.”
Upon hearing those words, I could have blushed, raised my voice in embarrassment, or responded with some playful comment.
But for some reason...
Was it because of his ridiculously handsome face?
At that moment, I felt his words sink deep into my heart.
* * *
Late at night, an eerie silence fell over Salt Royal Castle.
Berga, who was sipping a drink in a dimly lit hall with only a few candles lit, finally broke the gloomy atmosphere with a troubled expression.
“Limia?”
“She still refuses to leave her room.”
“Tsk.”
She was probably still nagging and begging him to call off the engagement.
But right now, he had no energy left to comfort his foolish daughter.
The marriage he had tried to go through as quickly as possible was postponed indefinitely.
“Is the situation… dangerous?”
“I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. Hundreds of borderland citizens have already fled.”
It all started with Limia's mistake.
At first, he thought it was just a minor problem – something that could be solved with a small loss.
But contrary to his expectations, the food shortage spiraled out of control, reaching a point where even emptying Salt's treasury was no longer enough to provide relief.
To make matters worse, an epidemic broke out, exacerbating the crisis.
“Heh…”
Finally, a bitter, sarcastic laugh escaped Berga's lips.
In the midst of this disaster, all neighboring countries took a negative stance regarding grain trade.
It wasn't long until the suspicions he tried so hard to deny turned out to be true.
“How were we so oblivious...? How did we not see this coming until the Knights of the Klitan Empire were on our doorstep?”
Crown Prince Raiden has set his sights on devouring salt, strengthening his power more and more.
The king's hand trembled as he held the wine cup.
“If we send Limia…do you think it might influence the Crown Prince?”
“It is an attempt worth making, Your Majesty.”
“…Send an envoy.”
Like a lone boat caught in a raging storm, Salt's fate teetered on the brink, as ominous war clouds loomed overhead.