95. Love is War

Fortunately.

By the time Claris’s carriage reached the Kingdom of Brentarion, Prince Raphael had been apprehended.

And so, that day, a brief exchange took place between the royal families over a meal.

“What kind of food does Prince Raphael enjoy?”

A gentle, natural conversation unfolds over dinner.

King Laboden and the Queen nod approvingly at Claris’s proactive demeanor towards Raphael.

“He enjoys Auren.”

“Auren…?”

Violet eyes blink a few times. As if waiting for this, Prince Raphael quirks the corner of his mouth in a sneer.

“It is a traditional Brentarion dish. Chicken, braised. I suppose you wouldn’t have tasted it in Albion.”

“No, I am curious.”

“Heh.”

The added sneer chills the atmosphere of the meal. Claris still maintains her smile, but her hand clenching the silverware is stiff with force.

Prince Raphael had just subtly implied that he and Claris were not a suitable match.

She’d mentioned her culinary preferences, only to be met with a sneer, as if she knew nothing at all.

“It seems we have much to discover about each other. A time I anticipate.”

“You needn’t exert yourself so.”

“Your consideration is appreciated.”

“Consideration…? Hah.”

Rafael’s blatant disregard continued. Yet, Princess Clarisse maintained her smile.

To anyone observing, Clarisse displayed a far more mature demeanor, Rafael’s sarcastic tone failing to penetrate her composure.

“I find myself unwell. I shall retire for the evening.”

Rafael abruptly rose from his seat.

An act of utter discourtesy, and deeply irresponsible.

He even uttered a word as he passed Clarisse.

“Do you know what love is?”

“…Pardon?”

“If you did, you would understand why I act as I do.”

With those words, Rafael departed.

As the prince left, King Lavoden sighed, shaking his head. He was said to be a king of weak heart, and indeed he seemed swayed by his own son.

It appeared that the changing of generations was nearing its completion here as well.

“I apologize, Princess Clarisse. He is immature, yes, but passionate and capable in equal measure.”

“I hope you will not see only his faults.”

As King Lavoden and the Queen apologized, Clarisse gently deflected their concerns.

“It is quite alright. This marriage was at my request, after all. Perhaps this is all too sudden; he needs time to adjust.”

“Your Highness is truly very mature.”

“You and our Rafael will be a splendid match, I am sure.”

“To win one’s husband’s heart is also a wife’s calling, is it not?”

With a sweet smile, Clarisse resumed her meal.

* * *

“What is *that* all about?!”

The moment Clarisse entered the room provided by the royal family, she seized a pillow and began striking the bed with frustrated *thwacks*.

“I don’t like you either, you know?! As if *you’re* a prize! We’re supposed to get to know each other gradually, aren’t we?!”

“……”

“……”

The Grand Master and Isaac, who had followed her into the room, remained silent.

“Do you think we’re children?! Huh? Children! The Brentarion Kingdom gets to solidify its alliance with us, blocking the northern Maru threat—good for them!”

*Thwack! Thwack!*

“We get to receive support from you backward nations while concocting countermeasures against those Transcendental freaks—isn’t that *lovely*!”

*Thwack! Thwack!*

“If you’re born a royal, show some damn responsibility! Aren’t you ashamed in front of the people loyal to us?! Do you think the privileges we enjoy just come from *nowhere*?!”

“……Surprisingly, for a royal, she’s got her head screwed on straight?”

“Princess Claris, despite appearances, is responsible.”

“Well, seeing her come all the way here for this marriage, I suppose that’s true.”

“Do you even know what love is?! You don’t! *You don’t!*”

*Thwack! Thwack!*

Claris didn’t stop, even with the Grand Master and Isaac muttering behind her.

After striking the bed with the pillow several more times, she finally wore herself out, panting heavily.

Then, she threw the pillow aside and slumped onto the edge of the bed.

“Stupid prince. Who actually *wants* to smile in front of your face?”

Princess Claris cradled her face in her hands, succumbing to despair. This marriage held considerable importance for the Albion Kingdom, so she must be wrestling with the decision.

Isaac and the Grand Master fell silent for a moment, awaiting her conclusion.

“This can’t go on.”

Her voice trickled out softly from between her fingers.

“I can’t ruin things just because of one emotion. Do you even know how much benefit this marriage brings to our kingdom?”

As if hypnotizing herself.

Or perhaps persuading the absent Raphael.

“We are not those who indulge; we are those who bear responsibility.”

Claris shot to her feet.

Her amethyst eyes now blazed with a newfound clarity.

“Heyrad, are you outside?”

“Yes, Princess.”

Heyrad entered immediately.

He had recently been ordered to guard her discreetly, avoiding her gaze as much as possible, due to a recent argument with the princess.

“Go, find out just who this woman is who’s got Rafael so…addled. Let’s see just how superior she thinks she is. Appearance, style, taste, wealth, background – everything. Just scrape it all together and bring it back.”

“Understood.”

Like a commander issuing battle orders.

Claris’s cool voice and gestures manipulated Heyrad like a mere limb.

‘This is…’

Isaac was unknowingly impressed. A glimpse of the woman who once shouldered the fate of humanity.

Even the Grand Master seemed faintly amused by the charisma Claris displayed.

“You, I entrust to watch Rafael. You’re the only one here who can move undetected by anyone.”

“As you command… or is that how I’m supposed to answer?”

With a smirk, the Grand Master strode out.

“Baron Logan.”

That left Isaac.

Claris approached him with purposeful steps.

“Yes, Princess.”

“You have the most vital role of all.”

Isaac, already guessing what was asked of him, almost chuckled dryly.

“You have to seduce that imbecilic prince.”

“…”

“Will you help me?”

Princess Claris was so earnest, he accepted his role with a stoic calm.

“It’s my specialty.”

* * *

Love is war.

A famous saying, though he wasn’t quite sure where he’d heard it.

Regardless, it resonated rather deeply with Isaac.

Though, perhaps amended, *marriage* is war would strike closer to his heart.

In any case.

Claris seemed to find the phrase quite palatable.

“Love is war, you say?”

If so.

“Strategy and tactics. Supply lines, intelligence, command, psychology, diplomacy! We’ll utilize everything!”

Truly, Clarice had begun to wage love as if it were war.

Those around her had become adjutants, assisting the commander, or generals, leading the troops, offering their aid.

Isaac spoke, nonchalantly, to the maid applying Clarice’s makeup.

“Too much makeup might be counterproductive. A touch of innocence, rather.”

“But she’s a princess. Is that truly alright?”

“It is. In fact, they already harbor a negative impression of Her Highness. Here, we must display something different, something outside the box.”

“I understand.”

“The banquet is in six days. We’ll detonate everything on that day, in one fell swoop. To maximize the effect of her most stunning appearance, it’s best to conserve our strength now.”

At Isaac’s words, the maid began a lighter application. Clarice, overhearing, wore a look of unease.

“R-really? Is it alright to show them… a less than perfect side?”

“Princess, do you know when I first felt a stirring in my heart for Lianna?”

Even the maid applying the makeup glanced at Isaac, the topic proving surprisingly captivating.

“It was when she gave me an awkward smile. Her, who is usually so expressionless and authoritative, showing a side that defied expectations.”

“Ah…”

“Precisely. They’re anticipating a cavalry charge. Here, we must outflank them, or whittle them down with arrows.”

“I understand what you mean.”

Clarice nodded.

Isaac stood before her, once the makeup was finished.

“How is it?”

“Sufficient. Not excessive, but it avoids any sense of plainness. It’s fortunate that Your Highness is blessed with exceptional beauty.”

“Of course. Naturally. Would I be a princess otherwise?”

Clarice preened.

“Smile.”

Isaac disregarded Clarice’s self-admiration. She seemed mildly disappointed, but quickly broke into a bright smile.

A natural smile.

Isaac frowned, finding himself wishing Lianna could learn such a thing. It was *that* radiant.

“Let me be blunt. When you go there, do not smile.”

“Huh?! But… why? I’m a woman with a beautiful smile, aren’t I?”

“Did you not smile at the luncheon?”

“…You were smiling?”

It seemed there hadn’t been a moment when she wasn’t.

That was the problem.

“He’ll perceive it as artifice. Prince Raphael is a man ferociously true to his emotions. He is not someone to be swayed by a contrived smile.”

“…Does my smile look contrived?”

“Your smile is perfect. It doesn’t seem that way at all. But the moment he sees you smiling, suspicion will already be swirling in Raphael’s mind.”

When faced with someone smiling for no discernible reason, it’s natural to suspect they’re forcing it.

“Princess, what you need to do from now on is—”

* * *

“Becoming quite the expert at fleeing, aren’t we? Perhaps you have the makings of a thief.”

Having slipped out of the palace, Prince Raphael headed towards the city with a self-deprecating smile.

Why was he born a prince, of all things?

Born a prince was fine, but why did he have to fall in love with the daughter of a baker, of all people?

Truly, a tragedy.

Therefore, love.

Without hesitation, he pulled up his hood.

Concealing his face, he would go to the flower shop, as he always did, and present her with blossoms.

‘Judge coldly. A political marriage with the Albion Kingdom is certainly vital for us, but…’

Even if it meant abandoning everyone else, he wanted to love her.

Truly, despair.

Therefore, love.

Clutching his chest, Raphael decided to think of something else.

The bakery’s busiest hour would have passed, so she would surely be free.

He must have hurt her the last time they were caught trying to run away together.

‘Today, I shall buy her even more extravagant flowers.’

When Prince Raphael arrived at the flower shop, he couldn’t help but squint.

Because there, in front of the shop, stood a woman wearing a hood, just like him.

She was nonchalantly picking out flowers while eating a skewer of street meat.

“Princess Clarisse…?”

He spoke her name without thinking. The unexpected place, the unexpected woman, was to blame.

“……Prince?”

Claris, too, wore a flustered expression as she gazed at Raphael.

An awkward current ran through the air.

Claris sighed, and with that breath, asked,

“I heard you had a cherished lover. You are going to see her, then?”

“Ahem…”

Raphael couldn’t answer.

If Claris reported this to the palace, he would undoubtedly be captured.

He struggled to figure out how to defuse the situation.

“Prince Raphael.”

So unlike the woman he saw at dinner, Claris spoke with a disheartened sigh.

“I don’t like this marriage either.”

“……Pardon?”

“I don’t want to do it.”

Prince Raphael’s eyes widened at Claris’s words.

He was taken aback by this Claris, so different from the one he saw at dinner.

Yet, realizing that this was her true feeling, Raphael felt a faint bud of hope blossom in his heart.

‘Could this be…’

Could he end this without marrying?

‘That’s what you’d think.’

Claris smiled inwardly.

[You need to close the distance right now. Establish common ground.]

She repeatedly mulled over Isaac’s advice in her head.

[Fortunately, there’s a shared experience only the two of you understand, so it should be easy.]

[From now on, Princess, you must act.]

‘Act?’

[Act as if you’re being truthful.]

Act as if she’s being truthful.

At first, Claris didn’t understand what the words meant.

It was only as the situation unfolded like this that Isaac’s words finally made sense.