96. The Arrangement

A quiet park in the city.

Two figures sat side-by-side on a worn bench.

From all appearances, they were a normal couple enjoying a date, but in truth, they were a Prince and Princess who wielded considerable influence over the affairs of their respective kingdoms.

Clarisse finished the chicken skewer she’d been eating. It was cold and flavorless, but the Prince watching made her feel a little self-conscious.

“…Interesting.”

Prince Raphael watched her, his own feelings in a tangle.

Naturally, Prince Raphael had received a certain amount of information about Clarisse as well.

When he’d heard that *she* had proposed this marriage, he’d imagined her to be a woman of unusual character.

“Yet, seen like this, she doesn’t feel so different from other women.”

Embarrassed by his own preconceived notions, Prince Raphael cleared his throat in a roundabout way.

He wanted to wait for her to finish the skewer, if possible.

But wasn’t he sneaking out of the palace right now?

He had no time for this, and he longed to go to the bakery and meet her.

“Could you elaborate on what you said earlier? That you, too, have objections to this marriage—”

“Ah, yes.”

Clarisse quickly swallowed the skewer in her mouth.

And then, calmly, she began to explain.

“I understand your feelings, Prince Raphael. Being told to marry a woman you’ve never met must be unpleasant.”

“…”

“It’s the same for me. I may be known for my lack of sentimentality, but even so, I would prefer to marry a beloved companion.”

“Then—”

“But Prince Raphael, we are royalty. We have a duty to our people.”

“…”

Raphael had no retort to that point. As she said, marrying was the right thing to do, for the sake of the kingdom.

Clarisse saw his complicated expression and smiled faintly.

“I think I pushed things a bit too hard.”

“…No.”

“Go now. Your beloved must be waiting.”

“Ah.”

Claris finished the conversation, her gaze resting on the flowerbeds in the park.

The consideration was not lost on Prince Raphael. He hesitated for a moment, then dipped his head slowly before departing.

The instant Prince Raphael was completely out of sight.

“Well done, Princess.”

Isaac emerged stealthily from his hiding place just beyond the park gates.

She handed him the empty skewer she’d been holding, and he gave her a satisfied smile as he took it.

“Excellent work.”

“Are you sure it went well? I just… stated my thoughts kindly.”

“That’s more than enough. Just the fact that a shared understanding of your disinclination toward marriage has been established will make Prince Raphael feel much more at ease around you.”

“Well, if you say so, Isaac, I’ll take your word for it. What’s the next operation?”

“We can’t rely on chance encounters anymore. We used the most effective tactic first. Another random meeting would only raise suspicion.”

“Hmm.”

“Fortunately, there are plenty of natural reasons to meet. So, you needn’t worry too much—”

“Isaac.”

“Yes?”

Claris, still seated on the bench, looked up at him with a subtly strange expression.

“Could you… seduce me?”

“…What are you talking about, Princess?”

“No, it’s just… I don’t know much about love. Seeing you plan things out so meticulously makes me wonder if I could learn something from it.”

“I’m only doing this because it’s an assignment. I wouldn’t put this much thought into my own romances.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Back then, Isaac was a man who simply loved the fleeting pleasures of life.

For him, affection between a man and a woman followed the tides and whims of fate. He preferred to wait by the riverbank, hoping that he and some red-haired beauty were destined to be together.

“In any case, you have quite a bit of practice ahead of you.”

“Practice is necessary too?”

“Of course. That Prince, from what I can tell, is quite susceptible to his emotions.”

The setting, the dialogue, the feelings, the atmosphere.

If any one of those struck him just right, it wouldn’t be unusual for him to mistake it for love.

“Let’s go, then.”

Isaac extended a hand, and Clarice, with a smile, took it and rose.

* * *

Naturally, a proper space for practice was scarce.

The royal palace held countless eyes and ears; if they were caught practicing like this, it would be the end.

In that sense, the only place available was the princess’s private chambers.

It was, at least, a location not exposed to the outside world.

“There is a stroll in the gardens scheduled for tomorrow, yes?”

“Well, if Prince Raphael arrives.”

“He will come.”

Because, after all, they met today under the pretext of a chance encounter precisely for this reason.

Having realized that he was a person one could converse with, he wouldn’t stand her up now.

“The most important thing is the conversation. Do you have any topics for discussion prepared separately?”

“The state of various nations? What significance our political marriage holds, and how advantageous it is?”

“Prince Raphael would run away immediately.”

“……”

Isaac nodded, as if he had anticipated this.

“Naturally, light and ordinary topics are better. Do we not often discuss such things when you visit my estate?”

Frankly, he wasn’t overly worried.

Clarice was quite the chatterbox.

She would come to the estate and spill out all sorts of stories.

“That was because it was you, Isaac.”

But Clarice frowned.

“I honestly don’t know if that will be possible with Prince Raphael.”

“Hmm.”

Was it perhaps too much to ask Clarice to converse with Raphael as she would with someone comfortable?

“Then, let us do this. I will create a situation for you.”

Dialogue in a relaxed atmosphere requires a certain skill.

If that’s impossible, then they could simply create a situation that narrows the topic of conversation.

“I will be your escort knight. I will play the role of pressuring you that you absolutely must marry him.”

“Hmm?”

“From now on, my gaze will be… bearing down on you, Princess. That will naturally allow you to close the distance with Prince Raphael and continue your conversation.”

“Ah!”

A forced-push maneuver.

A method of inadvertently drawing close or initiating physical contact due to Isaac’s intense stare.

It didn’t seem so bad.

She could add the excuse of being a subordinate of Princess Adeline.

“Let’s practice. It needs to be as natural as possible.”

“Yes! I like that!”

* * *

The next day, in the gardens of the Brentarion Kingdom.

Prince Raphael and Princess Clarisse were enjoying a stroll together.

They savored the flowers around them with their eyes and noses, but Prince Raphael, of course, wasn’t pleased.

‘Forgive me, Del.’

While internally apologizing to the baker woman he harbored feelings for,

Prince Raphael felt a chill that was colder than a prickling sensation on his back, giving him a sudden shiver.

“……?!”

Startled, he turned around to see a sword-bearing man standing at the garden entrance.

The man with the dark, tied-back hair was handsome to a degree that even Raphael found surprising.

However, the menacing aura he exuded made one’s heart shrink.

‘Wh-What sort of man is that?’

Aura?

No, there seemed to be something else swirling around him.

A stinging sensation that filled one with dread.

At that moment, Clarisse gently took Raphael’s hand as if to comfort him.

“He’s my guard. Isaac Logan. He’s with my sister.”

“Isaac Logan… Logan? Are you referring to the same Baron Logan who committed the Bolten Massacre?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right. Word has spread even here, I see.”

“It was an event shocking enough to warrant that.”

Prince Raphael understood the uncanny aura he had exuded. Just how many people did one have to kill to become like that?

He possessed an aura akin to that of a seasoned veteran, one who had crossed the line of death countless times.

“He’s in a position where he absolutely *must* see this marriage through. He’s on your sister’s side, after all.”

“Ah….”

An expression of understanding.

Clarisse, wanting to maintain her hold on Raphael’s hand, naturally broke into a light run forward.

“Shall we flee? From Baron Logan, perhaps?”

She chuckled softly, playfully leading Raphael along.

Baron Logan’s gaze felt heavy on Raphael, and he didn’t refuse her lead.

The two strolled through a vibrant flower garden.

A beautiful princess with a fresh, youthful smile.

Bound by a political marriage neither of them desired, they shared a sentiment understood only by the other.

“Hehe.”

How far had they run?

Clarisse released his hand with a gentle smile.

[If you keep holding on, it will seem as though you are doing it deliberately. You should let go first.]

‘Good thing I practiced, Isaac.’

She had been nervously worrying what if Raphael let go first.

Seemingly, he was more captivated by the flowers and Clarisse than she thought.

Raphael flinched slightly, awkwardly retracting his hand.

“Just how forceful Baron Logan can be…”

“Indeed.”

[Use me as a topic of conversation. The Prince will surely sympathize.]

[Have confidence. You are captivating enough, Princess.]

Just as Isaac had said.

The plan was progressing steadily.

Clarisse smirked inwardly, with a touch of deviousness.

‘This is much easier than I thought.’

When she had practiced with Isaac yesterday, she had stammered strangely and her palms had grown sweaty.

Yet, now that Prince Raphael was the one across from her, things flowed much more easily.

‘Yes, I’m definitely stronger in the real world!’

* * *

With Prince Raphael and Princess Clarice’s garden outing concluded, Isaac set out for town on his own.

“What brings you here?!”

Sharen, who had been rather bored of late, bounded up and took his side.

“I have somewhere to go, and I thought you might like it.”

*And,* he thought, *Sharen’s presence might make things appear more natural.*

“Go where? Where to?”

“A bakery.”

“Breaaad!”

Of course.

For this plan to succeed, there was one more crucial person involved.

The woman who had stolen Prince Raphael’s heart.

Del, the baker’s daughter.