Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 29

Marriage really was a good thing. Miesa smiled with satisfaction. Who would have thought that the marriage she once feared so much would bring such peace?

Reflecting on how unpredictable life was, Miesa peeked through the slightly open curtain.

She heard the coachman talking and then saw Eirik crossing the street to a shop. Naturally, her gaze followed him.

As he strode confidently, pedestrians began to stop and stare. Despite his simple attire, his height made him stand out.

But the reaction of the onlookers was unusual. They seemed startled at first, then looked back at the carriage with their mouths agape.

Why are they looking this way? Just as Miesa was about to close the curtain in unease, she heard someone enthusiastically shout, “The emblem of the Cladnier family!”

With his identity confirmed, the crowd’s attention shifted entirely to Eirik. Relieved, Miesa continued to watch.

People gathered on the opposite side of the street. The odd thing was the expressions on their faces—everyone looked overjoyed. They were all eagerly speaking to Eirik with bright, radiant expressions.

Seeing the unfamiliar scene made Miesa feel confused. From the back of the carriage, she faintly heard a young woman’s voice.

“Oh, he’s already gone into the shop. I didn’t even get a good look!”

“Let’s wait until he comes back out.”

There were two of them. Though their accents were a bit rough, Miesa could understand them well enough. She listened closely as the women continued their conversation.

“This is the first time he’s been seen in the capital, right?”

“Yes, it’s the first time since he grew up. With looks like that, it’s surprising there haven’t been any rumors until now.”

“Oh, right, Maria’s sister who married into the Count’s family saw him at the wedding. She said he’s nothing like the other famous handsome men. The young lord of Cladnier is completely different.”

They were talking about a man. Miesa quickly pieced together the puzzle in her mind.

‘The young lord of Cladnier’ is ‘nothing like the handsome men’ she had heard of before. Just as she was about to conclude that his appearance was ‘strange enough to not attract rumors,’ she heard:

“Those men are just conventionally good-looking. The young lord of Cladnier is beyond that, utterly breathtaking. They say his gaze alone can pierce your soul.”

Miesa didn’t catch every word due to the accent, but it seemed they were praising his appearance. Her confusion doubled.

To Miesa, the concept of beauty and ugliness was very vague. She had spent her childhood isolated in the Celia Palace and later pretended to be mentally unwell, having no time to concern herself with appearances.

The palace servants, who were her main source of information, never discussed such trivial topics because they were too busy keeping an eye on her, and the servants at the Cladnier mansion considered it improper to speak about their lord’s appearance.

Miesa tried to visualize Eirik’s face. She had always focused on his piercing eyes and large build, never really considering his facial features. She realized that his face was well-formed and clean.

The contrast between the fair skin, dark hair, dark eyebrows, and deep blue eyes with a hint of blue in them is pleasant to look at. His features are delicate, including his nose and jawbone, and when he smiles, his eyes and mouth have nice lines.

So, he is handsome.

But that didn’t matter to her. Miesa scoffed. The man only needed to be compliant and cooperative. His kindness was welcome, but his constant questions were sometimes annoying. Knowing now that he had a good appearance didn’t change much for her.

But as she continued to listen to the young women’s chatter, she heard something she couldn’t ignore.

“My father said if he hadn’t turned the tide at the last moment, we might have lost the war.”

“Right. The capital might not have fallen, but our hometown could have been burned to the ground.”

Now she remembered hearing that he was the hero of the victory. That must be why people liked him so much. The reverence in the faces of the people surrounding the shop finally made sense to her.

“It’s a pity he doesn’t engage in social activities while in the capital.”

“The princess is said to be frail. Besides, it’s unlikely we’d meet someone of his status anyway.”

“That’s true. We couldn’t even get a glimpse during the royal wedding due to the tight security. A knight who saved the kingdom marrying a frail princess—it’s like a fairy tale.”

“But you know…”

Their voices faded as the women moved away. Just as Miesa thought they had left, she heard a louder voice.

“What? Really? Is that true?”

“Shh, keep your voice down. If you speak carelessly, you could be charged with blasphemy. I overheard it secretly.”

“Then, my goodness. It’s heartbreaking. They didn’t know her condition and proceeded with the marriage?”

Miesa didn’t need to guess what they meant. She felt her heart sink.

“We are in no position to pity the heir of such a grand noble house. Anyway, let’s get closer and have a good look at his face,” one of the young women said.

Their voices faded, and Miesa saw two fairly well-dressed young women crossing the street toward the other side. Her eyes followed them frantically as they struggled to find a place among the crowd before finally settling against a distant wall.

Then Eirik came out of the shop, and cheers erupted again. But Miesa’s gaze remained fixed on the two women.

In the midst of the bright and cheerful crowd, the two women were exceptions. Their dark and somber expressions were something Miesa found familiar. People had always looked at Eirik with those kinds of eyes when he carried her around the mansion.

Suddenly, it felt as if something invisible hit her hard in the head.

Is this how someone who used to be revered is now looked at with such pity? And all because of me?

She had always had an inkling, but witnessing firsthand the shift from admiration to pity for the ‘Knight Who Saved the Nation’ and the ‘Heir of a Grand Noble House’ because of her made it all too real.

‘Do you think they’ll look you in the eye now? They all avoid eye contact with you, making pitiful faces as they scurry away.’

Words she once heard now made sense.

Miesa moved away from the carriage window. She didn’t want to see Eirik receiving hero’s treatment anymore.

Her slender fingers tightened, crumpling her skirt. The first thought that came to her mind was that the man was pitiable. For a fleeting moment, she even felt sorry. But acknowledging that the marriage she found so satisfying had brought him such great misfortune was not easy for her.

Is it all because of me? Because of what I did to survive? Her hands, clenched in her skirt, began to nervously tear at the fabric.

There wasn’t enough room in her mind for even the brief flicker of sympathy.

If she were to feel sorry for ruining his life, then someone should have felt sorry for her all those years she lived being treated like dirt.

At the sound of two knocks on the carriage door, Miesa leaned back and closed her eyes.

Eirik entered the carriage carrying a well-wrapped box of pastries and noticed Miesa sitting up. Assuming she hadn’t had time to lie down, he quickly closed the door.

“Did you wait long? I was worried when people suddenly gathered,” he said, showing no signs of being disturbed by the crowd. It seemed he was used to such attention and was more concerned about Miesa.

“I picked out a few things, so the box got quite large,” he said, placing the box down and securing it with cushions. Miesa looked at it silently, then turned her head away.

Seeing her staring at the closed curtains, Eirik asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

“……”

“You agreed to answer, remember?”

Rather than feeling angry or frustrated, Miesa just wanted to be alone. Or rather, she didn’t care who she was with as long as it wasn’t him. Listening to his gentle coaxing made her feel like it would be better to eat dirt and hang from the curtains than endure it.

Nevertheless, Eirik waited for an answer. Since she had agreed to answer questions, Miesa reluctantly opened her mouth.

“I don’t like sweets.”

“You didn’t say anything before I went to get them,” Eirik said, soothing her like a child.

“Why don’t you at least try them? There are some that aren’t sweet,” he suggested.

“No,” Miesa shook her head weakly.

“The shopkeeper recommended these. In the southern regions, they eat tarts with savory cream. I haven’t tried it myself, but the flavor is supposed to be…”

His explanation was cut short. Miesa’s eyes widened in surprise as if she had been pricked by something sharp.

“Halit tart?” she exclaimed.

“…Yes, that’s the name,” Eirik confirmed.

“I don’t want it. Don’t even open the box,” Miesa said urgently, her face twisted with distress. She fidgeted and then hung her head.