101. Analogy

“Heirad, you’re doing my escort duty today, right?”

“Indeed, Princess.”

“……”

Today is the day of the banquet.

Yesterday, I spent time enjoying a concert with Prince Raphael.

The atmosphere wasn’t unpleasant.

Prince Raphael was clearly developing an affinity for Clarisse.

Everything was unfolding according to Isaac’s plan, progressing toward an almost mundane success.

Yet, Clarisse, staring blankly out the window, felt a strange emptiness bloom in her chest.

“Princess, you should start getting dressed soon.”

“Ah, yes. I should.”

As she was about to prepare for the banquet, Heyrad remained, gaze fixed on Clarisse.

“What is it?”

“As the Princess knows, I am against this marriage to Prince Raphael.”

“I know. You’ve said it countless times.”

“Yes, but I wish for the Princess to find true happiness, not a political union.”

“The prosperity of the kingdom through this marriage *is* my happiness, Heyrad.”

Heyrad nodded at her matter-of-fact words.

“I understand. I accept it.”

“……”

“Today, it is said that most of Brentarion’s nobility have been invited to the banquet. Some are traveling from afar, all for tonight’s celebration.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Was it not a momentous banquet, deciding the marriage of a kingdom’s prince and princess?

“There will be so many people, I fear I might lose sight of you at some point.”

“……What?”

Clarisse was about to snap back, questioning how a guard could utter such a thing, when:

“If such a moment should come to pass.”

Heyrad gave a soft smile and bowed his head slightly.

“Go to the garden, outside the banquet hall. Baron Logan has agreed to guard that area. Entrust your protection to him temporarily.”

“……!”

Clarisse’s eyes widened.

“Heyrad—”

Slowly, she spoke his name. Heyrad, already moving towards the door, added,

“The choice is yours, Princess. But I truly wish for your happiness.”

Ladies-in-waiting, there to adorn the princess, passed Heyrad as they entered.

The princess, however, stood rooted to the spot, unable to say a word.

* * *

A moon hung heavy in the inky night.

Yet, Brentarion’s palace shimmered, bathed in radiant light.

Nobles, adorned in finery, laughed and gossiped, weaving tales amongst themselves.

The banquet was, indeed, a spectacle.

It was only natural, given it celebrated the betrothal of a prince and princess, a union to bridge two kingdoms.

Outside the grand hall.

In the exquisitely landscaped gardens, people were scattered.

Some sought to clear their heads, others to steal a romantic moment, or perhaps to whisper secrets.

And in a secluded corner.

Isaac, under the guise of guard duty, swayed gently to the rhythm of the night air.

He hummed along to the music drifting from within the banquet hall, the melody pleasing his ear.

“What are you doing?”

“…?!”

At the familiar voice, he whirled around, startled, to find Claris standing there in a black dress.

“Princess?”

“Guarding, and you didn’t even notice me coming up behind you?”

Isaac, caught off guard, stammered a reply to Claris’s sharp question.

“Your footsteps… they sounded like someone enjoying the party. I would have sensed a rogue or an assassin instantly.”

“Hmph, easy for you to say.”

“But why are you out here? What about Heyrad?”

“I don’t know. There were too many people, I lost him.”

“……”

Isaac’s face twisted slightly.

There was no way a skilled warrior like Heyrad would have lost the princess in a banquet, and even if he had, how would she have known where to find him?

‘Heyrad.’

It seemed the guard, so devoted to the princess’s happiness, was meddling.

Isaac sighed and gestured.

“I’ll help you find Heyrad. Let’s go.”

“Just a moment.”

Claris stopped Isaac as he moved to lead the way. Crossing her arms, she demanded, “Wait.”

“Why didn’t you come to me yesterday? I couldn’t practice, thanks to you.”

“It was the Gala. There wasn’t exactly anything to practice, was there?”

“Is that a reason to just disappear without a word? And what’s with switching roles with Heirad without even asking permission from me, your self-proclaimed Chief Strategist?”

“…My apologies.”

Clarisse snorted at Isaac’s polite apology.

“Hmph! What is it, anyway? It felt like you were suddenly avoiding me, and it made me feel quite unpleasant.”

“…”

He *was* avoiding her, so he had nothing to say in his defense.

Conversely, Clarisse was speaking like that, knowing full well that Isaac was intentionally avoiding her.

A moment of silence.

A subtle battle of wills played out between them.

Clarisse, displaying her black dress, gave a little shrug.

“Look. This is the dress I wore at the gala when you were my partner last time, Isaac.”

“Why would you wear the same thing?”

“Because I liked it.”

“…”

“I even styled my hair the same way. You complimented me then, saying I looked like a real princess.”

“You did.”

Isaac nodded, a little awkward.

Even so, he glanced towards the ballroom, anxiously checking if someone was looking for Clarisse.

Strictly speaking, she *was* the star of this gala.

“Your Highness, you really should be returning-.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, Isaac?”

“Pardon?”

The princess puffed out her cheeks slightly, feigning a pout.

“I’m dressed exactly as I was when *you* were my partner at the last gala. My hair’s the same too. But the partner is different. It’s Prince Raphael.”

“…”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No.”

Isaac nodded with a dispassion that bordered on cruel, and Clarisse bit her lip sharply.

“How can someone be so awful?! Luring me in like that! And now you say you don’t care that I’m partnering with another man?”

“Princess… sigh.”

A sigh escapes me involuntarily.

Like the Grand Sage and Sharen yesterday.

And now Princess Clarisse today.

I’ve said it so many times.

“I did not lure you. On the contrary, I merely taught you the art of winning a man’s heart.”

“You… you didn’t lure me?”

“Yes, let me be perfectly clear. No, I swear I have never made advances on you, Princess.”

“Well, I never!”

Clarisse fans herself with her hand, perhaps feeling the heat. Then, pointing a finger accusingly at Isaac, she cries out.

“That wasn’t you luring me? We held hands until late at night, embraced, whispered to each other?!”

“It was practice, Princess. You know that.”

Yes, Clarisse knows it too.

She’s being unreasonable.

But she didn’t want to admit it.

That she was shaken, that her heart was wavering toward Isaac, all because she had been lured.

Clarisse wanted to think that way.

If just practicing together could make her heart stray toward Isaac…

‘How embarrassing would that be!’

All that time spent pondering love, asking about it, agonizing over what it meant, would seem foolish!

To fall so easily!

So Clarisse desperately wanted to hear it.

That Isaac had, in fact, subtly been flirting with her.

That a man as handsome as him had made his advances, and so she couldn’t help but be swayed.

She wanted to find some solace, to win the mental battle to protect her pride.

But Isaac answered with a firmness that was almost disappointing.

“I have never made advances on you.”

“Ughhh!”

What am I supposed to do with this frustrating man?

The master strategist, deep in thought, conceived a singular, inspired maneuver.

“Let’s try the opposite.”

“Excuse me? The opposite? No, more importantly, do you even have time to be standing here-.”

“Isaac, just once. Truly, genuinely try to seduce me.”

“…… Pardon?”

Claris met his bewildered expression with a shrug.

“If you truly weren’t making a move on me before. Surely, it’ll be distinctly different from when you actually try?”

“……”

“I’ll see the difference, and if I feel it. I’ll acknowledge it and accept it.”

“…… Is it something about being a princess that makes you so brazen?”

“A little? Everyone’s so careful around me, you see.”

Claris grinned playfully.

“Just once. Go ahead. Honestly, I’m a bit curious about Isaac’s true feelings.”

“……”

“Hurry up. Or should I just go to the prince?”

“Such strange coercion…”

Isaac sighed.

Watching him rack his brains, Claris, rather sinisterly, covered her mouth and chuckled.

“Is it hard to seduce someone with just a few words, even for a handsome man? Yes, it must be.”

“Princess, I must be perfectly clear. I do not fancy you.”

“I, I, I know that?!”

Startled by the sudden confession, Claris hastily retorted.

Looking at her, Isaac spoke with the clarity of a warning sign.

“I’m only doing this because you told me to. Understood? You’ll just leave when you’ve heard it?”

“I said I understood. As if you’d say anything so amazing.”

Only enough time for a word or two.

No matter how persuasive Isaac was, there’s no way he could truly captivate her with so little.

Claris crossed her arms, thinking.

“Go on.”

“Ha.”

What manner of situation was this?

Though comprehension remained elusive.

Isaac met Clarisse’s gaze, and, with a touch of genuine sincerity, spoke.

“Today, you are truly radiant.”

“What a common—.”

“Like a rose.”

“……”

A rose.

An admittedly simple and trite comparison.

However, what did the rose signify to Isaac?

The woman he alone.

Truly loved.

The Blood Rose of Hellmundt, Lianna Hellmundt.

Clarisse knew all too well the weight of the ‘rose’ metaphor, a weight only Isaac could imbue it with.

“……!”

Her lips pressed tightly shut, her eyes widening ever so slowly.

Her face flushed a brilliant crimson.