Chapter 60
Dangerous Wine.
“Yes, I’d like to go too.”
At Ruan’s words, Zelda feigned innocence and asked,
“Does Ruan like festivals as well?”
“No, I can’t say I’ve ever been to one myself. But since Rosalin is going, I’ll go with her. And the boat—I’ll row it.”
“Oh my, have you ever rowed a boat before?”
At Zelda’s question, Ruan shook his head.
“No, never.”
“What? Then how are you planning to row it?”
Marican’s eyes widened in surprise, but Ruan gave her a look that told her not to worry.
He really doesn’t even want Peter to row us?
Honestly, this hopeless duke.
Zelda chuckled at Marican as if to reassure her.
“Don’t worry, Rosalin. I’ll ask Peter to teach the duke how to row. That should do, right?”
“Yes, please. Thank you, Zelda.”
“Then it’s settled. We’re all going to the festival next week!”
“But what about the shop during the festival?”
“Oh, during the summer festival, no shop stays open. So don’t worry about it, Rosaline. Just enjoy yourself.”
“I see. That’s good, then.”
A few days later, the Phenomenon Village summer festival began.
Stalls were lined up along the shores of Lake Arnando, filled with performances and all kinds of events.
“So this is a festival. Zelda, look over there! The balloons are huge! And that—ice cream? I’ve seen it in the capital but never tasted it. Oh! Zelda, look at those flowers!”
Like a child seeing the world for the first time, Marican’s voice brimmed with wonder as she pointed here and there.
“Rosalin, you’re making me feel like a mother all of a sudden.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s a good thing. Come on, let’s get ice cream first.”
“Yes!”
. . .
“Truly, the world never ceases to amaze. To think I’d see the duke himself at a festival. But what’s with that ridiculous wig?”
Cassel eyed Ruan’s disguise—gray wig, spectacles with empty frames—with open skepticism.
Was he trying to stand out even more by dressing like this?
With his height, Ruan was impossible to miss regardless.
“Silence. Where’s Daimond?”
“I confirmed he went to see Caimon. It seems likely that man is plotting a rebellion.”
“Rebellion? Hmph. He never recovered all of the hidden funds we seized—he’s probably using the rest to rally knights. Didn’t he already keep a few loyal to him?”
“So, you still refuse to return to the capital? If it’s just Prince Daimond making noise, that’s manageable. But if it’s a rebellion, the capital will need you.”
True enough.
If kymon made a move, the crown prince wasn’t ready to withstand it.
“I know. If Kymon truly rises, it won’t be an easy matter. For now, tighten security around the capital. And what of Daimond?”
“Strangely enough, though a fool in all else, he hides his presence with uncanny skill.”
“He always fancied himself a hunter. Masking his presence for the kill—that much, he’s adept at. And the rumor I ordered—about me returning to the capital in secret?”
“Already spreading everywhere. But why bother with a false rumor?”
“To lure Daimond here. I won’t wait for him forever—I’ll make him walk into my net.”
“You mean… you intend to draw Prince Daimond here?” Cassel stared at him, startled.
“That’s why I’m in disguise. If word spreads that I’m in the capital, Daimond will chase Marican first. He’ll come here. And before the festival ends, I’ll catch him.”
Cassel nearly groaned.
Disguise was supposed to keep one unnoticed, not stick out like a beacon.
But convincing Ruan otherwise was pointless.
“Very well. Still, I’ll leave a couple of knights with you.”
“No need. Cassel, are you implying I can’t even protect my own wife?”
That’s not it—I’m worried you’ll kill him before we can stop you.
Cassel remembered vividly how Ruan had once shattered Daimond’s bones, promising revenge for Marican.
“I don’t mean that. I just want someone there to stop you from killing him.”
“Don’t worry. As long as he doesn’t lay a hand on Mer, I won’t kill him. Go on.”
Which is exactly what I fear—there’s no way Daimond will restrain himself.
“Very well, my lord. But remember—no matter what happens, you must not kill the prince.”
“I won’t. Whatever happens, he’ll still be breathing.”
Cassel gave his last plea and withdrew.
“Ruan? What are you doing there? And what is that disguise?”
Zelda and Marican, wandering the festival stalls, burst into laughter at the sight of him.
“Well, it’s a festival. Lots of people dress like this. Here, Rosaline—this flower’s for you.”
Marican took the rose in wonder.
“Oh, it has multiple colors? I’ve never seen one like this.”
“A new breed, they say. Quite pretty, isn’t it?”
“What in the world—Ruan, you look ridiculous!”
Zelda laughed as she returned with food in hand.
“He says it’s for the festival. Thanks, Ruan. We’ll enjoy this.”
Ruan smiled as Marican lit up, holding the rose.
“You’re welcome, Rosaline.”
“Oh! Zelda, what’s that?”
“Hmm? Ah, looks like an archery game.”
“Archery? Ruan, Zelda—let’s go see!”
. . .
“What? It’s only for women?”
“Yes, Rosaline. It’s a game for ladies. Three arrows—if you hit the center, you win that necklace.”
The prize was a delicate coral pendant, rare and strikingly beautiful.
“A necklace? Wow, it’s lovely.”
“Indeed. Made from coral found only in the Kingdom of Espea. My father procured this one specially—it’s the only one in the Empire.”
Zelda rolled up her sleeves at the sight of Marican’s longing gaze.
“Alright then, Rosaline. I’ll win it for you.”
“You will?”
“Of course. Don’t worry—I’m good with a bow.”
But as soon as Zelda picked it up, Peter, the merchants, and even Elder Joseph hurried to stop her.
“Zelda, please. Not this year.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I shoot well enough.”
“Oh, you shoot, all right. Just never at the target. Last year you sent arrows into three shops—we’re still apologizing for the damage.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll hit the target this time!”
Even Marican grew uneasy.
“Zelda, it’s fine. Let’s do something else.”
Before Zelda could argue further, Ruan stepped forward.
“Rosaline —why don’t you try?”
“Me? But I’ve never even held a bow in my life!”
“I’ll teach you.”
“You’ll… teach me?”
Ruan’s confident smile didn’t waver.
“Yes. Trust me, and try it yourself.”
“…Do you think I can?” she whispered at his ear.
He leaned down and murmured back,
“Believe in me.”
Alright, Marican. Trust him—just once.
“Alright, I’ll try. Zelda, I’ll do it.”
“You?” Zelda blinked at her.
Peter quickly interjected, eyeing Ruan.
“Wait, if a man helps, it’s invalid.”
Ruan’s expression chilled.
“You doubt her? Peter.”
“R-Ruan? I didn’t recognize you in disguise. I want Rosaline to win, truly. But rules are rules—no unfairness.”
“No need. She’ll hit it on her own.”
Ruan handed her the bow and stepped behind her, arms encircling her.
“Brace your waist. Feet apart, steady. Yes, like that. Now—nock the arrow. Lift it straight.”
Thump-thump.
I can’t—he’s too close. I can’t even think straight…
Marican’s heart thundered at the heat of him at her back, her mind fogging until she could barely hear his words.
“Rosaline? Focus on the arrow’s tip.”
Yes. Focus. You can do this.
She forced her breath steady, eyes on the target.
“Like this?”
“As expected, Rosaline does everything well. Now, hold your core, breathe in, fix your eyes—and now! Release!”
She loosed.
The arrow flew straight and buried itself dead center.
I hit it? I actually did it?!
“Ruan, I did it!”
“See? I told you, Rosaline.”
Overjoyed, she spun and flung herself into his arms.
She hugged me? My wife… hugged me!
Ruan lifted his arms to embrace her tighter, but before he could, Marican slipped away—throwing herself at Zelda instead.
“Zelda, did you see?”
“Rosaline, that was incredible! First time ever holding a bow, and you nailed it?”
“Indeed, you’re the first today to hit the center. Here—the necklace.”
Peter handed it over, and Ruan, still smarting, placed it around her neck himself.
“It suits you perfectly.”
“Thank you, Ruan. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Her radiant smile made his chest ache, though he murmured,
“No, Rosalin. It was your own skill.”
“Oh please, enough with the sweet talk. Some of us are still single, you know.” Zelda rolled her eyes.
“It’s not like that!” Marican protested.
“Mm-hm. Sure. Now, shall we move on?”
“Yes!”
As the three of them strolled away, arms full of roses, a shadow lingered at the edge of the festival.
Daimond’s lips curved into a sharp smile.
“Marican… at last, I’ve found you.”
