Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Side Story 12

Miesa’s body was swayed back and forth under the hands of the women. When one of them crouched in front of her, holding rouge, Siata intervened.

“No, no. I have makeup for my lady’s face. Let me do it.”

“Do you work for this lady? What makeup do you have? Let me see.”

While the woman and Siata engaged in a cautious debate in front of Miesa, a woman behind her yelled.

“You two in front! Make sure the part is perfectly straight.”

“Oh, it’s perfect.”

Miesa found the noisy commotion amusing and let them tend to her face and hair. Siata, on the other hand, was clearly agitated.

“More rouge on her lips would be too much. Wait, what are you putting in her hair?”

“Pork fat. Oh, it’s the best thing to keep braids from unraveling and to set the hairstyle.”

“…Madam, are you sure about this?”

Miesa, with her eyes closed, smiled slightly as she answered, “It’s fine. I’m having so much fun right now. Do I look pretty?”

“Yes, you’re beautiful. Really!”

“You’re as lovely as an angel! How can someone be so beautiful?”

Although Miesa had asked Siata, the other women answered for her. They had used colors far too bold for Miesa’s usual look, but thanks to Siata’s skillful touch, the result was anything but garish.

Miesa, reborn amidst the clamor, indeed looked stunning—so beautiful that people couldn’t take their eyes off her.

Her dyed black hair was woven into several thin braids, each adorned with small flowers that harmonized with the blue wildflower crown, creating a vibrant, elegant effect.

Her fair face, flushed cheeks, sparkling blue eyes, and lips tinted with red rouge all highlighted her delicate features.

“How gorgeous! Oh, you look amazing!”

“Now, go dance and have fun! The young men of Kazen won’t know what hit them.”

“That’s right. The country folk rarely see such beauty. Oh, I feel so proud.”

“Look at that—my son can’t take his eyes off her either. He needs a good smack to snap out of it.”

The women clapped and pushed Miesa forward.

“Thank you!”

Overjoyed, Miesa burst into laughter and ran hand-in-hand with Siata towards the center of the gathering.

“Are you going to dance? I don’t know the Kazen dance very well.”

Running alongside her, Siata glanced at the dancers and observed their movements. After a moment of moving her hands and feet experimentally, she nodded.

“Well, let’s give it a try.”

“You…! It’s really difficult, you know! Just try to imitate them.”

Miesa yelled in disbelief, but then kindly patted Siata. However, Siata was already nodding her head in rhythm, looking completely unimpressed.

“It’s not difficult at all. So, are we doing this now?”

Siata confirmed again, stomped her feet a few times to get the rhythm, then took Miesa’s hand and moved into the crowd.

Hesitant at first, Miesa soon naturally raised one hand and began dancing the Kazen dance.

The blue sky was so clear, and the grass trampled underfoot by the dancers remained soft even in the dryness of late autumn. Laughter and the sound of lutes filled the air, and the cool breeze was a welcome touch.

“Madam, move your hand and foot separately for this part.”

Though Siata, who was dancing for the first time, was teaching her, Miesa paid no heed.

“Siata, I’m having so much fun right now. Don’t nag me.”

For some reason, Miesa felt like she might cry. To finally enjoy the festival of Kazen, which she had only heard about, was a deeply moving experience.

She didn’t realize that moments she had longed for in her imagination, even during the times when she could only communicate with Eirik and hide her condition from Gella, were now overwhelming her.

Even when she bumped into others, missed her step, or got her timing wrong while turning with the group, Miesa was nothing but happy, exchanging smiles with strangers and holding hands as they danced together.

More than twenty people gathered in the middle of the field, dancing, but Miesa stood out unmistakably. Her breathtaking beauty was one reason, but her cute, clumsy movements and bright laughter, unaffected by her mistakes, were what truly captivated everyone.

The people of Kazen, gathered on the hill, laughed along with her radiant smile and followed her movements with their eyes.

“Oh my gosh. I feel like my heart is going to burst.” Miesa exclaimed without realizing, raising one hand and tapping her foot.

Siata immediately grew serious and asked, “Shall we take a break now?”

“No, it’s not because I’m overexerting myself. I’m just having too much fun.”

Worried that Siata might actually suggest they stop, Miesa quickly corrected herself. In her distraction, she missed the timing to link arms with the person beside her.

“Quick, quick, miss!”

“Oh, sorry!”

Miesa hurriedly linked arms with the woman to her left and Siata on her right, moving her feet again. Though her direction was off and her timing wasn’t perfect, the smile on her face never wavered.

“Alright, let’s really take a break now—before you start sweating.”

At some point, Siata gently pulled her aside. This time, Miesa complied, looking worried.

“Why? Did my makeup come off? Do I look strange?”

“No. If you sweat and catch a cold, you’ll be in trouble. Shall we have something warm to drink?”

Well, alright. Miesa nodded, panting slightly.

“True. If I catch a cold, then this and that will be forbidden again. I wouldn’t even be able to leave the bed, let alone travel. No choice, I guess.”

Even without mentioning Eirik, his presence was clear in her complaints. Catching her breath with a sulky expression, Miesa was being supported by Siata as they walked when a tall young man suddenly stepped in front of them.

“Uh, excuse me…”

The young man hurriedly removed his feathered hat and held it against his chest, revealing his reddish-brown hair—a rare color.

Miesa was about to sidestep him but looked up again.

“Oh? It’s you from yesterday!”

It was the young man she had spoken to before the gambling incident. She remembered his red hair, different from Duke Salachez’s, and his awkward hesitation, which had made an impression on her.

“What is your business?” Siata intervened. Usually sullen, her expression hardened at the stranger’s unexpected action.

“Uh…”

As the young man hesitated, Miesa stopped Siata. “Don’t be harsh. It seems he’s just not very good with words.”

“I-I can speak… It’s just…”

The young man pulled out his other hand, which had not been holding his hat.

In it was a ripe, red Kalite fruit—large and perfectly ripe. However, the young man’s hand was trembling as he held it, an odd sight that made Siata’s eyes narrow with suspicion.

“I am Henriette, the eldest son of Count Fletty, from Flamtia.”

So he could speak. But why did he stammer with such a blank expression? As soon as he finished, Siata quickly signed to Miesa.

[No known threat.]

Suddenly, Miesa remembered. Back when she had been on the throne, she had reclaimed fertile land from Count Fletty, partly because his eldest son had avoided conscription by feigning illness.

Moreover, the number of troops the count had contributed during wartime was absurdly small. Ultimately, the lands were confiscated as punishment for neglecting his duties as a local lord, and now that land was helping fill Cladis’s granaries.

“So, what’s this? I doubt it’s just a simple gift to eat.”

Despite Siata’s sharp question, the young man simply extended the Kalite fruit even further. The large fruit, held by his trembling hand, looked quite appetizing.

“Um… To the, uh, lady…”

The large fruit wavered in the air as much as the young man’s unsteady voice.

“If… you would accept… this.”

“That can’t be.”

The young man’s words were cut off like a knife. At the same time, the owner of the voice reached out and grabbed the Kalite fruit. It was Eirik.

“It’s hard for a tactless person to live long. If you leave quietly, I’ll let it go.”

His large frame and handsome features were already imposing enough, but the voice, though low, rang out more clearly than a shout, exerting an even greater intimidation.

Miesa looked up at Eirik, and then found herself speechless at the murderous aura he emitted.

She had seen him angry a few times, but this was the first time she’d seen such raw, unrestrained fury. Even as his wife, she found herself frozen, unable to speak.

The chill was so intense it felt like the air itself had frozen. The noisy clamor around them gradually died down as all eyes turned towards them. The young man summoned his courage once more.

“W-what do you mean? I-I don’t understand.”

Though the young man’s tone seemed almost aggressive, it would have been more convincing if his legs weren’t shaking and his voice wasn’t trembling.

Eirik didn’t reply. Instead, he tightly squeezed the Kalite fruit he had snatched away. With a crunch, the fruit was crushed, and blood-red juice dripped from his hand.

“The person you’re making this absurd proposal to is my wife.”

With a crooked smile, Eirik took a step towards the young man.

Everyone was frozen. Eirik slowly wiped the red juice from his hand on the young man’s cheek, patting it mockingly.