Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 13

Two days after the poetry reading, an envoy from the House of Crispin arrived.

Sweating profusely, five maids from the Crispin household fidgeted and stammered before dismissing the others and revealing their purpose to the Margravine Cladnier.

“Our young lady has misplaced her handkerchief…”

It was a significant matter for an unmarried lady to lose a handkerchief, especially one given as a token of affection. Moreover, to lose it at her former fiancé’s house was a considerable embarrassment.

Margravine Cladnier immediately summoned her maids and instructed them to search for Lady Crispin’s handkerchief, disguising it as her own. This was to prevent any potential rumors. The Crispin maids bowed deeply, expressing their gratitude.

The maids scoured the greenhouse, while the housemaids searched the garden and stables. The maids from House Crispin also scattered, making the mansion’s grounds a flurry of activity.

Thus, when one of the Crispin maids exchanged a silent signal with Mrs. Maleca and quietly disappeared, no one noticed. The maid and Mrs. Maleca met discreetly at a secluded incinerator behind the mansion.

“Let’s be brief. My lady is eighteen, so this needs to be resolved within two years,” the Crispin maid began.

Smiling, Mrs. Maleca responded, “If you wish, it can be arranged as soon as tomorrow.”

The Crispin maid shook her head and spoke quickly, “It’s not something that can be rushed. Regular contact will be necessary, and I can’t make up an excuse to come here every time.”

“I have the freedom to go out, so we can meet in town.”

The two set a date and place before quickly parting ways.

***

Once a week, the Cladnier family would gather in the temple to offer prayers. However, Miesa was not cooperative. As Eirik tried to coax her into entering the temple, she stubbornly dug in her heels. Turning to his parents, he spoke up, “We’ll just take a walk in the garden.”

The Margrave kept his eyes fixed on the statue of the goddess, while the Margravine waved Eirik off.

Eirik led Miesa towards the garden. As she played, he kept a vigilant eye on the sky, wary of any birds.

After a while, Miesa plucked a flower and began to chew on it. Seeing this, Eirik gently removed the flower from her mouth, revealing her lips stained red and petals inside

“Spit it out. Some flowers aren’t safe to eat.”

But she didn’t understand.

“Spit it out, please. Like this, ‘ptooey’.”

Despite his efforts, she continued to ignore him. The frustration didn’t end there. When Miesa flopped onto the grass, her dress flipped up, exposing her thin legs. One of her stockings had slipped down, revealing her pale knee, causing Eirik to hurriedly cover her up.

“Dear, you shouldn’t expose yourself like this.”

Feeling guilty for constantly reprimanding her, he softened his tone.

“Especially not in front of men… Do you understand the difference between men and women? Men have short hair and wear trousers, so you must never—”

“Eirik, that’s enough,” came his mother’s amused voice from behind.

“Jealous men are unattractive, you know. Who would’ve thought you’d be like this?”

Looking back, he saw even his mother’s maids giggling at his predicament.

Eirik shook his head, his face flushed. “But it really is improper.”

“There’s no reason for her to expose herself in front of other men. Enjoy the nice weather a bit longer before coming in.”

“Oh, Mother, are there any poisonous flowers in the garden?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not.”

Indeed, his mother would never allow such things in their home. His ears remained red from the embarrassment.

His mother, finding amusement in her son’s discomfort, soon returned to the mansion with her maids. A little later, the Margrave, accompanied by a few attendants, saw them on his way back to the mansion and paused, his gaze disapproving.

As dusk fell, it was time for dinner.

“Miesa, tonight we’ll have dinner together as a family. It would be nice if you could be on your best behavior…”

Margravine Cladnier, brushing Miesa’s hair as usual, shook her head and changed her tone.

“Never mind, Miesa. Just forget I said anything. The important thing is that you eat well. Goodness, how is your neck so thin?”

She spoke as if Miesa could understand, but Miesa only opened her mouth wide, making various sounds and laughing at the vibrations in her throat. Eirik watched quietly.

The meal proceeded in almost complete silence, save for the sound of Miesa scraping her knife against her plate.

Screech. Scrape. Screeeeeech.

Even the servants flinched and frowned, but as his wife and son continued eating as if nothing was amiss, the Margrave’s expression grew even more severe.

“That woman is just… unbearable,” he muttered.

“Dear, Miesa is still practicing. Please don’t say anything,” said the Margravine softly but firmly.

The Margrave, momentarily at a loss for words, threw down his utensils and picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth. Though the princess was annoying, it was his wife’s indifference to his anger that irritated him the most.

“Perhaps it’s better if you eat with your hands,” Eirik suggested.

The sight of his stern son, treating that simpleton of a woman as his wife, handing her calf ribs, made the Margrave’s blood boil.

He glared alternately at his composed wife and at his son, whose fine features bore the delicate lines of his mother.

Eirik, seemingly unbothered, cut his meat and then asked, as if it had just occurred to him, “Have you heard any updates on the aqueduct project in Dakarel? The recent rains have weakened the ground, causing delays.”

“It’s less frustrating than your wife. How old is she, anyway?” Finally, he burst out his grievances about the princess.

The Margravine answered for him, “Dear, you might as well not concern yourself with Miesa at all.” She smiled as she offered him some wine. “Miesa doesn’t desire your attention. Eirik, make sure she eats some vegetables too.”

Eirik, with a practiced hand, cut a piece of roasted onion and fed it to Miesa. As she chewed and grimaced, spitting it out, the Margrave’s face mirrored his disgust.

“We’ll need to present ourselves to His Majesty soon. Make sure she has no visible injuries by then,” he concluded, rising from his seat. Eirik’s only response was to dip the onion in meat juices and offer it to Miesa again.

With just Eirik, the Margravine, and Miesa left at the table, the atmosphere grew warmer and more relaxed.

Miesa licked the butter from her fingers and arms, which the Margravine found endearing, recalling that Eirik had done the same as a child.

As Eirik continued eating in silence, feeling somewhat out of place, his mother spoke up.

“There’s not much time left now,” she said thoughtfully.

In the kingdom of Esquillir, there was a tradition that couples visit their family homes fifty days after marriage. For Eirik and Miesa, this would mean a visit to the royal palace.

Suppressing her anxiety, the Margravine asked Eirik if he had prepared the gifts and inquired about their attire for the visit.

***

“Dear,” Eirik began in the quiet of the unmoving carriage. “Do you know my name?”

But Miesa, lying opposite him, did not answer or even meet his gaze, as usual.

“That’s all right. I just thought I’d ask,” he added gently, knowing full well it was a meaningless question.

Eirik looked out the carriage window, watching the bustling servants and falling into thought.

Marriage.

To the eight-year-old boy who first encountered chivalry, it was a word that stirred both a sense of responsibility and a certain pride. But facing reality, the awakening from that sweet dream was swift. No matter how beautifully adorned, a marriage for the family was essentially just about producing heirs, a glorified breeding arrangement.

And now? The wife he had taken, under the pitying eyes of others, when all hope for a suitable match had faded.

It wasn’t so bad, he mused. Even if his wife didn’t know he existed.

Having someone to protect made life worth living. Eirik gazed steadily at Miesa, his new family member.

Soon, Mrs. Maleca, after giving some instructions to the coachman, climbed into the carriage. Today, for some reason, she was awkwardly trying to act the part of a proper maid.

The carriage had felt peaceful with just Eirik and Miesa, but the addition of Mrs. Maleca made the air feel thick and uncomfortable.