Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 92

“Eirik.”

As he reached the knights’ quarters and climbed to his office, a rough hand grabbed him from behind.

“Hold on, we need to talk,” a voice demanded.

Turning around, he saw his cousin, Emmerich. Eirik shook off his hand and continued walking, opening the door to his office.

“Come in,” he said.

“So, is it true?” Emmerich asked, visibly agitated as he bombarded him with disjointed questions. “Did you really do that with her… like that? You, with her? I mean, how could you… with someone like that?”

Indeed, last night had been a difficult time, one he preferred not to discuss. As Eirik averted his gaze, Emmerich exploded with rage.

“Why would a perfectly fine man act so shamefully towards his wife?” Emmerich shouted. “Is it true? Are you really that disgusting? Treating an innocent woman so disgracefully?”

“Shut up.”

“Why is your face turning red then?” Emmerich demanded, unable to contain his fury as he pounded on the desk, glaring at Eirik. “Listen well. You, looking down on me for my dalliances with women, and yet, you… you… are worse than a beast…”

Breathing heavily, Emmerich spat curses at Eirik. Watching his cousin’s face contort with anger, Eirik suppressed a laugh. The limits of his cousin’s noble birth were painfully clear; the Duke of Salachez would have found this situation hysterical.

“Is this funny to you?” Emmerich snarled.

“No. I understand why you’re acting this way,” Eirik replied calmly.

“I won’t stand by your side any longer,” Emmerich declared, clenching his fists.

“Apologize properly later. For now, buy me a drink,” Eirik said, still composed.

“Madman,” Emmerich spat, kicking the desk roughly. “A filthy man like you, head of the Cladnier family. Is that even possible?”

“This is not a good time,” Eirik responded.

“Wait and see. Try to endure it well,” Emmerich warned, leaving another round of curses behind as he stormed out.

Eirik glanced at the family crest hanging on one side of the room, shaking his head as he stood up. There was no time to waste; his wife had preparations to make starting today.

Eirik entered the bedroom earlier than usual. Miesa, who had been sitting on the floor with her back turned, sprang up and ran to him barefoot as soon as the door closed.

“Eirik!”

“Just a moment. I can’t hold you right away today,” he said, extracting a wriggling puppy from his arms. The fluffy little creature whimpered in his hands, and Miesa, though initially hesitant, couldn’t hide her curiosity.

“It’s a little animal, isn’t it?” she asked.

“You could also call it an adorable puppy. Want to touch it?” Eirik offered.

Miesa cautiously reached out her hand. She stroked its fur and poked its paws, giggling when the puppy licked her hand.

“It licks just like you, Eirik,” she laughed.

“Gella, you can leave us now,” Eirik instructed. Gella quickly retreated, leaving the two of them alone.

As soon as they were alone, Miesa bombarded Eirik with questions. “How old is it? What does it eat? Does it bite? It has teeth! It doesn’t hurt though. Why is its belly so round?”

“Hold on, slowly,” Eirik said, calming her down. “First of all, it seems you don’t mind having the puppy around.”

He began to explain the situation carefully. “There will soon be a hunting tournament. You only need to make an appearance on the first day. You can then excuse yourself that evening, saying you’re not feeling well.”

“Oh, right. Around this time, Vermel left the palace for a few days,” Miesa recalled.

“There will be horses, birds, all kinds of animals, but I’ve already made arrangements for security,” Eirik assured her.

Without him explaining further, Miesa felt reassured by his words and turned her attention back to the puppy.

“I’ll be away, but Gella and Cullen will protect you. And my mother as well,” Eirik continued.

“WHat about Madam Cladnier?” Miesa asked.

“She’ll be busy with various social engagements among the noblewomen. Originally, she was supposed to leave for the estate right away, but it seems she’s changed her mind after the last banquet,” Eirik explained.

His father hadn’t opposed his mother’s wishes recently.

Eirik had also spoken with his father. Despite the continued difficulty in communicating, akin to talking to a stone wall, his father understood the necessity of the rebellion. Therefore, Eirik calculated that, if needed, he could rely on his father’s support.

Miesa, fortunately, had no aversion to riding a horse.

“I once heard Vermel contemplating bringing a horse to trample over something,” she said. “But horses smell, and they could dirty the central palace floors with their droppings. So, in the end, he never used them.”

As she lightly rode around the outskirts of the mansion, earplugs were snug in her ears. This made it hard for her to gauge her own voice, so she mumbled quietly enough that Eirik had to strain to hear her.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

Eirik wrapped his hands around Miesa’s head as she raised it and gently pressed it back against his chest. A flock of migratory birds flapped noisily overhead as they passed.

Having thoroughly ensured that everything would be in place for the hunting tournament, with particular caution about the birds, Eirik turned his horse back towards the mansion.

“……”

At the entrance, they encountered his cousin Emmerich, who stared at them with a look of great displeasure, alternating his gaze between Eirik and his wife.

“What are you doing standing there?” Eirik asked.

“I was gathering my things and paying my respects to the former Margrave and his wife,” Emmerich replied, shaking his head as he mounted his horse. It reminded Eirik that Emmerich had mentioned leaving the knightly order. Despite his clear declaration of defiance towards Eirik, he still paid his respects to their parents, showing that, no matter what, people cannot completely abandon their roots. This thought made Eirik smile.

“Will I see your face at the tournament?” Eirik asked playfully.

Emmerich glared at them, trembling with anger, before spurring his horse and riding away.

“Why was that man angry earlier?” Miesa asked as she removed her earplugs the moment they arrived in the bedroom.

Eirik gave a wry smile and answered simply, “He’s dissatisfied with me and intends to claim the position of head of the family for himself.”

“…I heard Rakane Crispin also wants to become the head of the family,” Miesa said.

“Where did you hear that?”

“At the banquet, while pretending to sleep.”

“In reality, it’s difficult, though she’s quite capable,” Eirik explained, carefully choosing his words to avoid sounding overly complimentary of another woman. “The current head of the family would have to designate a successor, or the king would have to appoint one directly. But in Rakane Crispin’s case, neither is likely.”

“Does that mean the king could replace you with that man?” Miesa asked, her voice filled with concern.

“If the king decided to kill me and appoint another as the head of the family, then yes, it’s possible,” Eirik said, even more cautiously. “Replacing the head of the family happens occasionally. The position can be stripped from one member of a noble family and given to another.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door, followed by Cullen’s voice. “Commander, are you back?”

“What is it?” Eirik asked.

“You asked me to catch a cat,” Cullen replied.

When Eirik opened the door, Cullen thrust a silver-gray cat at him. Cullen’s ungloved hands bore long scratches, likely from the cat.

“It’s quite big,” Eirik observed.

“There were no smaller cats available. And if a kitten is handled by humans, its mother will abandon it,” Cullen explained.

“Fair enough,” Eirik said, accepting the cat. But the moment he turned around, the angry cat hissed and darted away, escaping his grasp. As Eirik walked towards the bed to find the hiding cat, Miesa stood in the middle of the room, muttering.

“…That was a bit scary. It won’t bite, will it?”

“Shall I tell you a funny story?” Eirik began with a smile, but quickly remembered that his attempts at humor rarely succeeded. So he changed his approach. “Let me tell you a simple story instead. When I first saw you, I thought you were like a cat.”

“Me?” Miesa asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Just for a moment,” Eirik said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Back when you had no idea who I was, more than half a year ago.”

He recalled how Miesa had initially ignored him, only occasionally sitting on his knee or staying quietly in his arms, yet completely disregarding him when she didn’t need him.

“You seemed comfortable back then,” Eirik continued. “I thought you had no worries, just sleeping and playing.”

“Cats are enviable creatures,” Miesa murmured. “Living so comfortably without any worries.”

Then, as if realizing something, she exclaimed, “And earlier, that cat—though scary, it was beautiful.”

Eirik raised an eyebrow. The hissing, tail-fluffed cat?

Miesa, looking deeply moved, said, “To think, you considered me a cat when others treated me like a monkey, a rat, or a pesky insect. You must have liked me a lot from the start.”

“…I suppose I did,” Eirik said, deciding to revise his memory to align with her words.

Miesa’s face lit up even more. If it made her this happy, the timing didn’t matter. Not even Eirik knew when he had fallen in love. Forgetting about the cat, Eirik moved closer to Miesa and kissed her.

***