Chapter 10 – The Tempting Tea Party

Lemberg Castle, the king’s residence with three palaces, featured a central tower with a sharp, triangular roof—a symbol of the realm. The tower housed rooms for audiences and official events, flanked by Vienna Palace, home to the royal family, and Izcuera Palace, where the council convened.

Responding to the tea party invite, I stood in Vienna Palace’s garden, gazing at the towering structure. As a past saintess, I’d prayed there—morning, evening, seasonally, per tradition.

This garden, where the prince once led me after taking a liking to me, bloomed with vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed greenery—nostalgic yet beautiful. Butterflies danced, birds chirped softly, creating a world apart from the town below.

Recalling those days, I glanced aside—expecting golden hair, but it was the black-haired duke.

Joining me to dampen the prince’s interest, as promised, he trailed the castle attendant with a grim expression.

Reluctant, perhaps? I could’ve come alone, but lacking confidence against sway, his presence steadied me.

Led silently to a marble pavilion—its pillars and benches carved from a single block, as the prince once told me—we arrived.

“Julius Kai Wolfzaine, present,” the duke announced. I curtsied, lifting my skirt slightly.

“Honored by your invitation today, Your Highness.”

Avoiding his gaze, I curtsied to the honey-haired prince already seated. My new thick-framed glasses shifted slightly from above my nose.

With the duke here, and prepared, I felt less rattled—though facing him directly might still unsettle me.

“Welcome, Miss Zickler. Glad you came, Julius. Enjoy with the gathered noble ladies.”

His warm, sweet voice was disarming. Startled, I pinched my thigh. The duke coughed softly—did he notice?

Surprisingly—or naturally—others were invited. Several ladies, likely from ducal or comital houses, chatted elegantly in day dresses, rivaling in splendor despite informality. Familiarity eased their talk.

Expecting a private meeting, I was relieved. Guided to a marble bench opposite the prince, its cool firmness comforted me. The duke sat across from him.

A delighted squeal rose. Two ladies—one in red with a feathered fan, another—gawked at the duke.

His face twisted in displeasure.

“What’s wrong, Julius? Unhappy?”

“…No.”

Teasing, the prince peered at him, chuckling at his scowl.

“Your Highness, this isn’t that kind of event…”

“Isn’t this just the usual? I invited Countess Cesar’s daughter because you said you’d be coming. Count Ruben’s daughter is probably just her companion. They came looking forward to this, so please, do keep them company.”

“You called them?”

“If you’d court them or pick someone, this wouldn’t escalate, right?”

The duke clicked his tongue. Informal or not, before the prince, I shrank. He laughed, amused.

“Lord Wolfzaine, it’s been a while—”

“Long time, Duke.”

Drawn by the prince’s laughter, the ladies curtsied gracefully. The red-dressed one, likely Cesar’s daughter, had lustrous chestnut hair and radiant skin.

“My apologies, Lady Cesar, Lady Ruben. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Heard you shone at the council. Father praised you. Wanted to say so.”

“Flattered. Still a novice—hope for your father’s guidance.”

“His Highness said you played here as a child—could you guide us?”

The higher-pitched Lady Ruben leaned in, seeking agreement.

The duke hesitated; Lady Cesar offered her hand naturally. Reluctantly, he took it, bowing to us.

“I’ll guide them. Miss Zickler, sorry to step out.”

“Y-yes.”

“Take your time. Don’t embarrass Cesar.”

“Back soon.”

Whispering, he left with them. Supporting Lady Cesar’s hand, Lady Ruben flanked them—her role clear.

The near-summer garden bloomed with red, yellow, and pink roses and dahlias, perfectly balanced by skilled gardeners. An arch near the fountain, thick with roses, hid its iron frame—almost believable as pure flora.

Passing under, Lady Cesar’s profile glowed with joy, cheeks flushed—love, perhaps. The duke, back turned, seemed eager to return, maintaining a cautious distance.

I nodded—his reluctance explained.

Unmarried, no fiancée rumored, the duke—opposite the prince’s golden charm—drew admirers with his black hair and refined features. Young, a duke, and the prince’s closest aide, he was prime marital material.

Noble marriages blend politics and romance. Ladies naturally favored him.

Hmm, I assessed his back. Lady Cesar, stunning and well-born, topped the list—yet he resisted. With Amelia, sibling harmony mattered. At eleven, her marriage was years off. Could Lady Cesar cherish her? Age and politics might complicate it.

Lost in thought—

“Miss Zickler, your first social event, I hear.”

Startled, I blinked. The prince, once across, now sat beside me. The duke’s absence shifted seats—I noticed, my heart racing.

Before I knew it, we were the only ones left in the gazebo. A few more pairs of young ladies should have been under the semicircular roof, but their figures were gone. “Oh,” I thought, as I caught sight of several backs disappearing beyond the garden trees. Just as they vanished, a woman in a maid’s uniform, presumably a server, approached, pushing a wagon.

For a split second, I tensed, thinking, this is bad. But then I realized: even if it was just waiting, having someone else here was fine. With other eyes present, I probably wouldn’t lose my composure. Besides, he was the Prince, and he did have a fiancée; if I just talked about Amelia, his interest would surely shift away from me.

Two deep breaths, I curtsied. He nodded, pleased.

“University must’ve been hectic. Working for Julius too—exhausting? This tea’s fragrant—hope you like it.”

“Thank you for your consideration. The Duke is also very pleased with me, so no strain.”

“No need to hold back. Wanted to talk, pressured Julius. Thanks for coming. Try the pastries.”

“T-thank you.”

I took one—light, melting sweetly. Sugar-based? Wheat too? Reaching for another, he chuckled.

“Tasty? Pair it with tea—too much sweetness otherwise.”

“Y-yes…”

Did he think me gluttonous? Embarrassed, I took the teacup.

The maid poured steaming tea, its sweet aroma familiar—unplaceable, yet from another life? Glancing, he leaned on his hand, smiling.

A flash—past life overlaid. Dizziness hit, eyes stinging. I sipped to hide it.

Steam didn’t fog my glasses—adjusted temperature foiled me.

Why am I here? To dull his interest, yet my heart resists, craving nostalgia.

“Like it? More if you want.”

“Y-yes… it’s delicious…”

Suspicion loomed. Pulling back, he chuckled.

“I’ll pack leaves for you. Our staff disliked it—traded goods. Sweet scents suit women, I thought.”

He signaled the maid, who bowed, leaving silently—likely for tea.

“Thanks. Amelia might like it too.”

Avoiding his gaze, I bowed deeply.

“Let her try. She’s young—might need milk or honey.”

He’d add those too.

“Speaking of Amelia, you’re her tutor. Insects?”

“No, nature’s part. Mostly elementary curriculum.”

“Elementary? She’s too shy for school. Not with me, but it’s a concern.”

Her lessons—work. I faced him, driven by duty. Shy yet curious, she wouldn’t boast.

“She’s diligent. Losing her parents to disease, she’s keen on pharmacology—passionate about science.”

If possible, it’s probably because they have a close relationship that they want to move in that kind of situation. From her perspective, it’s only natural that she couldn’t do that, but when she was young, when she was about to say enough about her interests, the prince’s laughter echoed inside the gazebo.

“Your Highness?”

The laughter also has emotion. Some laughs you like and funny, others are underestimated, others are laughs that are underestimated, and others are laughs that are emotionally stolen. What I heard in my ears was not a positive impression.

The prince’s laughter, which seemed to contain a slightly mocking colour, made me lose sight of the clues for his next words.

“Epidemics? Pharmacology? Ambitious…”

“Y-yes… eager to—”

“Learning’s fine, but not queenly. Liking insects—odd.”

His laughter stopped, face hardening. His cold denial stabbed me.

“She needs lineage, beauty, social skills. Etiquette, music, poetry, languages—essential. I’ll send tutors. Focus there.”

“N-no, she’s not done with basics…”

“Leave that to noble sons’ tutors. Queens need other graces. Amelia must learn.”

Incredulous, I stared. Wasn’t this country promoting women’s education and roles? Even conservatives accepted it—why this from a duke’s peer?

He’d been kind to me as a saintess. Now, he seemed dismissive. Was I naive then, or has he changed with my different path?

“Julius indulges her. A brother, a duke, should teach noble conduct.”

“Perhaps… but she’s eleven. Broad interests are good. As queen, aiding science could enrich the nation.”

He dismissed my confusion, critiquing the duke. Indulgence made sense—siblings, years apart. Supporting her dreams, the duke shone.

But the prince imposed queenship regardless.

“With women’s progress, a queen studying could inspire—”

He continued the conversation without being convinced, and the prince said, “I see.”

I thought you understood. But that’s just a short time. Something warm was covered in my hand, which I had kept under the table, in my lap.

Something soft and warm wrapped around the back of my hand and was stroked slowly. It’s the prince’s hand. As soon as I realized that, I took a breath.

“You’re certainly a progressive woman. You’re also interested in discussing the future of the country with women. Talking with smart women is a great inspiration. I’d love to hear more about it.”

Unfazed, he leaned closer. The narrow bench trapped me—my skirt pinned by his thigh.

“…Y-yes. With Amelia—”

“Why? She’d hinder us.”

“No, I—”

I tugged my skirt—useless. He closed in, hair brushing mine. His other hand grazed my cheek, removing my glasses.

His blue eyes neared. My heart raced—tension or thrill?

“Lovely eyes—rational, strong. Hiding them’s a waste. With your hair—my taste.”

“S-stop!”

Turning, he forced my face back. A chill hit—objectified. I pushed him.

Weak from years of study, I couldn’t match his strength. My arms were pinned.

“Stop…!”

“Violet eyes—stunning. I wonder what kind of colour it will be in a place where the sunlight is not exposed to? Haven’t you heard from Julius? I held today’s tea party because I wanted you. If you came, you mean that’s what you mean too.”

He loomed as I fell back, skirt immobile. Opening my eyes, his face filled my view.

“Wait! Stop…!”

Regretting my lack of strength, I kicked—futile. He smirked, nearing.

Headbutt to escape? But my family might suffer. Resistance risked execution.

Avoiding that future, yet here—stupid. Cursing—

His gaze cooled, turning. The duke, brow furrowed, stood there.

The Duke sighed and placed his hand on the prince’s shoulder, causing his body to squeal.

“That’s a problem, Your Highness.”

The duke who woke up the prince just hugged me, and then reached for my messy hair. His fingertips touched with concern, and the corners of his eyes were slightly warmed, perhaps as if they were a little relieved.

“…What, Julius? Don’t neglect Lady Cesar.”

Annoyed, the prince huffed. The ladies were gone—where? Come to think of it, the waiter woman hasn’t come back either.

“Rare flowers lured them. I didn’t abandon them.”

I wonder if everyone knew the prince’s intentions and was involved.

“Join them. Dine with Lady Cesar tonight?”

“I decline.”

“Pity. I’d invite Miss Zickler—”

He shrugged, seeking my nod.

No! I shook my head violently. The duke sighed, muttering, then gripped my waist.

“D-Duke?”

“Play along,” he whispered.

“Miss Zickler declines. Also, Your Highness, a refusal.”

“Refusal? What?”

The prince frowned as the duke held me.

“She’s engaged to me. Please don’t touch her.”

“…Huh?”

Stunned, I yelped as he nudged me.

This? Play along? But it’s probably ridiculous no matter how much it is. The other person is a prince, and it hasn’t been reported anywhere in the rumors, such as the duke and I’ve been engaged until now.

“True, Your Highness?”

Doubt filled his eyes—obvious disbelief.

He’d push it. His grip tightened. His forced smile hid a vein—angry.

Natural—his sister’s fiancé nearly strayed. Denying it risked my job.

I nodded frantically. Lie or not, I’d adapt.

“Yeah, that’s true. Actually, I’ve been in a relationship with the Duke this time!”

“Meant to tell you formally. Your kindness aside, more invites burden us—misleading others.”

Smiling, his lip twitched—scary. The prince snorted.

“Congrats. I wonder if the sea will be overflowing with tears from the ladies of the nation. Not official yet—”

He paused, eyeing me. A strange glint in his blue eyes revived my chill. I clutched the duke’s sleeve.

Noticing, he covered my hand.

“Soon, we’ll inform the king. Miss Zickler looks pale. We’ll take leave. Alright, Ernesta?”

“Eh?” My name—unpermitted, yet his low concern thrilled me. Blood rushed, face burning. I looked down.

“That’s bad. Same at your first meeting. I’ll send tonics—maybe a doctor.”

“Thank you for your concern…”

His concern couldn’t lift my shame. I bowed slightly.

“Appreciated. Farewell.”

Bowing, he dragged me out, leaving the prince.