97. Practice

An ordinary bakery.

Just as the word describes, a modest yet charming bakery, one you could find anywhere.

Since it was past lunchtime, the aroma of freshly baked bread had long since faded, but a unique, nutty fragrance still lingered in the air.

“Breaaad! Breaaad!”

“…Why are you so excited?”

He followed Sharen as she scurried into the bakery.

He knew Sharen liked bread, stemming from her fondness for snack-like treats.

But was this a degree of excitement warranted?

Or perhaps she was simply happy to be out, having been confined to the palace for days.

*‘I haven’t been paying Sharen much attention lately.’*

He had been so intensely focused on Clarice and Raphael that he simply hadn’t had the time to look after Sharen.

Besides, there wasn’t much Sharen could do to help with this operation.

Just the value of the Helmunt name, perhaps?

“Welcome.”

Stepping inside, the bakery woman greeted them with a simple, kind smile.

He’d heard from Heirad’s investigation that she ran the bakery with her parents, so the young woman before him must be Del.

“Bang, bang.”

‘…Curious.’

Isaac considered this while calmly surveying the baked goods. He had heard she was beautiful. Indeed, she was quite lovely, perhaps even excessively so for a woman running a small bakery.

But to say she possessed the kind of beauty to make a prince fall head over heels? That was a stretch.

‘Rianna would be more like it.’

He was aware that his standards for beauty might be set impossibly high, but nonetheless, that was his assessment.

Great men swayed nations, and beautiful women swayed those great men.

However, was this woman truly the type one would abandon a kingdom to possess?

He didn’t know what kind of romantic tale existed between them, but for now, Isaac calmly selected his bread.

“I’ll have this too.”

Sharen promptly added something to the basket for herself.

“They don’t have much of a selection.”

Del approached Sharen with a gentle smile, noticing her disappointment.

“I apologize, miss. We’ve sold most of our loaves.”

“Aha? Isaac, should we come back tomorrow then?”

“Alright.”

Isaac nodded calmly.

With Sharen’s help, it was naturally settled that they would return the next day. Just as they were about to pay…

“Excuse me, sir.”

Del asked with a somewhat somber expression.

“Are you… from the royal palace?”

“…Is it that obvious?”

He had tried to dress in clothes that reflected his time as a commoner and cultivated that kind of atmosphere, but alas.

“I heard that a princess from the Albion Kingdom has arrived recently. And since I’ve never seen you around here before, I just assumed you must be from the palace.”

‘The prince really tells her everything, huh?’

That aside, Del’s observational skills were quite impressive.

He had thought that tempting a prince was already an uncommon feat, but this was beyond the ordinary, bordering on extraordinary.

“Since I’m caught, I’ll be frank. I am Baron Logan. I came as the princess’s guard, to see you.”

“What? Weren’t you here to buy bread?”

Sharen, bewildered in the opposite direction beside him.

Isaac shoved a loaf of bread he’d bought into her mouth, and she just chewed, her eyes darting about.

‘Must choose my words carefully.’

Assume everything said here reaches Prince Raphael’s ears.

He believes Isaac is here to broker a marriage, under Princess Adeline’s orders.

Then I must speak accordingly.

“Do you truly believe you can be with Prince Raphael?”

A frigid voice.

Del flinched, her head slowly lowering.

“Your actions threaten the kingdom. Prince Raphael must fulfill his duty.”

“……”

“You may find my words cruel, but there is no choice. I understand love is not something easily controlled –”

Not just cold, but brutally so.

For that was the image he projected here.

“Your love is a sin.”

Upon this declaration, Del’s eyes began to tremble.

“H-hic.”

Tears started to fall.

Like pearls, welling up and streaming down her cheeks in thick drops.

Isaac regarded her calmly. He regretted making her cry, but this was necessary –.

Gulp.

“Ah, ah, Isaac made a girl cry-aah!”

“……”

Another loaf of bread was shoved into Sharen’s mouth.

“Isaac made a girl cry-aahblub-!”

* * *

The back door of the shop.

Having endured a barrage of glares from Del’s parents, Isaac waited by the back door for her to compose herself.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?”

One thing to mention.

Isaac was always soft on weeping women.

Perhaps because Lianna was a woman who never cried.

‘Well, that changed somewhat later on, though.’

He remembered her crying quite often in the throes of the divorce.

Truth be told, Isaac hadn’t realized Lianna was such a crier.

“Y-yes, I’m s-sorry, hic!”

He turned his head again to look at Sharen.

Munch, munch.

He’d deliberately stuck a huge piece of bread in her mouth, and now she was diligently eating it while glaring at him.

As if monitoring how he would respond.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her.’

He glanced resentfully at Sharen, who had suddenly become the opposition, then spoke to Del again.

“Haa… Miss Del, I know that was a cruel thing to say. But this is also for your own sake.”

“…”

Del seemed to have calmed down a bit now.

She took a deep breath and listened intently.

“I’ve had a similar experience. I believed that love could conquer all. But I realized there’s also a need to be realistic.”

“A similar experience?”

Perhaps because of the tears welling up, her pupils seemed to shine especially brightly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Isaac opened his mouth as if he’d made up his mind.

“I come from common stock. I may be a Baron now, but I was originally a ferryman, rowing boats across the river.”

“A ferryman…”

“I, too, loved someone I shouldn’t have, just like you.”

“…”

“I know. It arrives in a truly unexpected moment, shaking us to our core. No matter how hard one tries to compose oneself, the emotions, swayed by longing, are simply unavoidable.”

“…”

“Without her, I can only think of her. With her, I long for the next time we can meet. I won’t deny that I become greedy.”

“…”

“But we’re divorced now. As for figuring out where the thread began to tangle, we’ve already come too far…”

In the end.

“In the end, we had no choice but to sever the thread.”

With all his heart, Isaac spoke to Dell.

“Love alone cannot solve everything. The wall of reality will inevitably stand in your way at some point.”

“…”

“Do not become a man like me.”

Having said that, Isaac patted her shoulder as if offering solace, and turned away.

She would overcome it with love alone, she thought.

Seeing her challenging spirit was like looking at his own past.

He could no longer bear to look at Dell.

* * *

That night, within the Princess’s chamber.

A gathering of all.

Claris, arms crossed, glared at Isaac.

“I have received a tip.”

Heirad and the Grand Master exchanged puzzled glances, then looked towards Isaac.

Even Isaac couldn’t fathom what had provoked the Princess’s anger.

“I hear there’s a plan underway – the most heinous and insane in human history – to seduce lovers away from each side, each from the other.”

“Ah, this is… a little much.”

“Lord Isaac.”

At the Grand Master and Heirad’s sighs, Isaac blinked a few times.

It took a few seconds for him to realize she was talking to him.

Startled, Isaac jumped to his feet.

“What are you saying! Even so, that’s truly not the case!”

“Sharen said otherwise?”

Suddenly, Claris lifted both hands and divided her hair into two sections, mimicking Sharen’s pigtails.

“Isaac went to see this woman Dell and made her cry! Gazing at her intensely while rambling on about his past!”

“You imitate well, no?”

“… There’s no falsehood in it, but I did not seduce her.”

“The moment you gazed intensely, you seduced her. Do you acknowledge this?”

Then the Grand Master nodded directly.

“I concede.”

Heyrad scratched his cheek, seemingly abashed.

“Isn’t it the same as when a beautiful woman smiles with her eyes, and all the men swoon?”

“Haa, no time for these jokes.”

Isaac sighed, realizing he was being teased, and Clarice giggled, letting her hair down.

“It’s fun, isn’t it? Today’s operation was a complete success. We should take the atmosphere lightly.”

The outing in the garden was truly excellent. Thanks to it, the distance between her and Prince Raphael had shrunk considerably.

Clarice raised her hand, flashing a ‘V’ sign.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to the Brentarion Exhibition Hall. Is there anything I should know?”

Clarice stuck out her behind and leaned forward, striking an adorable pose.

Lately, she had been working hard to subtly weave natural charms into her everyday actions, all to entice Prince Raphael.

“Naturalness crafted with technique, eh?”

The Grand Master muttered, amazed.

Isaac, watching Clarice’s efforts, smiled contentedly and began to talk about tomorrow.

“You, Princess, are well-versed in the history and historical research of the Brentarion Kingdom, so I have no worries there.”

“Ah, of course.”

“But some preparation is still needed. I hear the painting ‘The Flowerpot of Remellon’ creates an optical illusion.”

“I know it. It’s a painting by Saint Polut, they say it looks different depending on whether you view it from the left or the right?”

“We’re going to use that.”

And so, the practice began.

They divided up the roles.

Heyrad was Baron Logan, scowling from behind.

Clarice was Clarice.

Isaac was Raphael.

Finally, the Grand Master was the painting.

“Is a ‘painting’ role truly necessary?”

The Grand Master questioned, remaining seated.

But the practice began immediately.

“Wow! Look at this! They say it looks different when you see it from the left!”

As promised, Claris deliberately positioned herself to the right. The scenario was: she’d move too quickly, eager to look, and practically tumble into Raphael’s arms.

*Thump!*

Claris ended up in Isaac’s embrace instead.

Looking up at him, she swallowed hard.

Isaac, holding her, clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Far too theatrical. It felt like you intended to fall into *my* arms from the start.”

“Did… did it?”

“Yes. It would be better if you pretended to expect Prince Raphael to catch you, maybe stumble a little to the side.”

“Mmm.”

Isaac slowly released Claris.

“Still, your bashful expression was impeccable. Your acting is improving day by day.”

He gave her a smiling thumbs-up, and Claris shrugged in response.

“Well, it’s me, after all!”