Chapter 51

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 51

Chapter Title: The Woman I Saw at the Lake

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Finally, I get to meet you.”

King Valquiter of Oberon was quite tall. Even Irena, who was on the taller side for a woman, had to crane her neck to look up at his face when standing close.

His features were like a perfect mold of Queen Sylvia.

A face fairer than most men’s, with blue eyes, delicately shaped lips, and golden hair shimmering with the faint lemon hue symbolic of the royal family.

Irena had never seen the late Queen Sylvia in person, as she hadn’t mingled in the capital’s social circles, but she had seen her portraits.

Duke Vermonte’s wife, with her strict family education, had invited a renowned etiquette teacher from the capital to instruct her daughter.

The teacher had brought small portraits of key figures in the capital’s society to illustrate her lessons, and Irena had studied the queen’s portrait many times to memorize her face.

Now she understood why people said the young king made it feel like the queen had come back to life.

And...

‘He really does look like her.’

Perhaps because the queen and princess were twin sisters, there were even parts that reminded her superficially of Kaiyan.

His tall stature and solidly built frame that exuded an intimidating presence.

Especially since he was dressed to receive guests in a fur-trimmed overcoat of sable and marten, yet it was clear his body beneath was flawlessly honed without a single flaw.

‘The day House Vermonte sets foot in my castle is drawing near.’

But he was undeniably different from Kaiyan in essence.

‘And as my guests, no less.’

Unlike her uncle, who had scowled and greeted her like an invader from an enemy house during their first meeting, King Valquiter’s handsome face bore a bright smile that outshone even the crown atop his head.

Irena calmly curtsied, lowering her body and head.

“I greet Your Majesty, the King. I am Irena of House Vermonte.”

“You must have had a hard journey from afar.”

“Not at all. On my long trip back to Valmond from Rowen, it’s an honor to stop and rest at Your Majesty’s gracious invitation.”

Valquiter bowed politely to Irena.

There was no issue with a high-ranking man—such as Duke Kaiyan—speaking informally to Irena, a duke’s daughter.

But for a man of Valquiter’s exalted status to use honorifics with a woman of lower rank was taken as a clear sign of special interest.

Irena was a bit taken aback, but with his overwhelming beauty and the thrill of respect from such a man, she couldn’t help smiling politely in return.

“To suddenly arrange such a meeting... I hurried from the north and it was quite tiring.”

At Duke Vermonte’s nod to the attendants, men carrying large chests set them down before Valquiter.

“What is this?”

“A gift for the King of Oberon.”

The time had finally come to display Valmond’s overflowing wealth.

If that brat from House Temneth hadn’t choked off the grain supply, diamond prices wouldn’t have plummeted. Just thinking about it made Duke Vermonte want to weep blood tears of rage.

But in Valmond, the jewel mines yielded treasures beyond measure just by digging the earth.

Treasures no one could buy with mere gems or gold.

Today, Duke Vermonte had boldly brought a suit of platinum armor from the ducal treasury.

The dazzling armor looked more like a work of art than protective gear.

Diamonds were embedded in every seam, making the whole thing sparkle brilliantly.

“Ho. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Admiration gleamed in Valquiter’s eyes as he examined it.

House Vermonte didn’t shine in the capital due to Valmond territory’s unique circumstances.

So, though he held a ducal title in Oberon, the duke wasn’t thrilled at fawning over Valquiter, who was like a son to him.

But when Valquiter spoke informally to him as well, after doing so to Irena, the duke was already mentally planning a wedding—whether in the royal palace or Valmond Castle—and picking auspicious dates.

“Let’s dine in the aerial garden.”

The aerial garden was one of the palace’s most famous spots.

Built atop the highest hill overlooking vast plains like a throne commanding the world, it was an artificial garden made by hauling in soil, known as the highest garden on the continent.

Only with the king’s permission could one enter the aerial garden. Just two keys opened its gates, typically given to the queen upon her arrival as a gift from her humble origins.

At Valquiter’s words, even Irena was startled.

‘A place I’d only see as queen.’

With her love of flowers, she naturally knew of Oberon’s royal aerial garden.

“This way.”

As the king moved to lead them personally, Duke Vermonte couldn’t hide his delight while glancing at her.

But Irena felt burdened and pretended not to notice her father’s expression as she hurried after the king.

The day before the territory’s autumn festival, Clodel was endlessly busy.

For the first time since arriving in Rowen, she stayed outside the castle until the slow southern sun dipped low.

When dancing before the lord and territory folk, she had to wear a festival gown.

The territory festival was the year’s biggest event, so she wore a skirt puffed wide enough for distant villagers to see.

Clodel was in her final dance practice in the gateway village square, layers of voluminous skirts tied around her waist.

‘It’s heavy. Hard to even walk properly.’

She’d heard tomorrow’s real skirt would have even more layers, leaving her at a loss.

She’d practiced diligently.

She should have attended a banquet on her third day after marriage to greet the duke’s retainers and relatives, but she hadn’t.

Clodel knew rumors were swirling about the lady from Valmond who’d married into the castle.

‘Why do they call me a beauty?’

At first, it was “a flower wilted by rain.”

Rumors about her looks swung to extremes.

Desperate not to err before the people, she’d practiced endlessly and memorized everything, but with this festival skirt, even if she just bobbed up and down without dancing, no one would notice.

‘Is it designed to ensure a flawless festival?’

She wondered that much.

While pretending to dance—just bobbing to see if anyone would notice she wasn’t really dancing—she paused to rest.

‘No one really notices.’

Her question was answered, but her efforts felt wasted, leaving her hollow.

Then a man approached carrying a large basket.

“My lady. Allow me to greet you for the first time.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Burbrook Cranden, in charge of Rowen’s orchards.”

He was a tall, lean middle-aged man wearing a cap and sporting a beard. His basket brimmed with glossy red apples.

“I was heading to the castle with this year’s first harvest when I heard you were in the square, so I came to pay my respects.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like one?”

The freshly picked apples looked fresh and vibrant.

As Clodel reached for one, Hanna snatched it, wiped it with a handkerchief, split it in half, and offered it.

“Let’s see how it tastes.”

The tangy apple scent made Clodel smile as she bit in.

“Delicious.”

“I’ll strive to offer my lady the finest fruits.”

Since arriving, Clodel had met no retainers besides the butler.

Between the crocodile bite and Herzol treatment and recovery, she’d spent nearly two months confined to her bedroom.

No one had approached her so courteously before, so she gratefully ate the whole apple he offered.

She never imagined the capped man gazed at her with longing eyes.

“How’s the dance practice going?”

As Kaiyan approached, Burbrook bowed quickly and stepped back.

“What brings you here?”

“I heard my lady was resting, so I came to greet her for the first time.”

“I see. This year’s first harvest?”

Glancing at the basket, Kaiyan asked, and Burbrook replied.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Fine quality. Should make good cider.”

“Ripe apple cider is medicine itself. Then I’ll take my leave.”

As Burbrook departed smoothly, Kaiyan asked her.

“How’s the dance practice? No worries about mistakes?”

“This is a secret, but no one can tell I’m dancing with this skirt.”

Kaiyan’s eyebrow arched.

“Really. I just bent my knees up and down pretending to jump, and no one said I was wrong.”

“Haha.”

Her quirky curiosity made Kaiyan laugh again today.

Clodel blankly gazed at the face he showed only to her.

“But you can’t fool me. Come on.”

Her cheeks flushed a lovely pink as she took his offered hand and stood.

She understood why they’d been invited so late for a dinner as they reached the aerial garden.

What could trade for savoring exotic dishes while overlooking the capital’s brilliantly lit nightscape from on high?

In this garden where flowers bloomed even at night, tiny butterflies and birds flitted about showing off.

Luxury wasn’t just gold on the body.

The aerial garden’s value was incalculable.

It existed beyond anyone’s imagination or reach.

Even Irena, raised without want, felt that way—and it made sense why rumors spread among the rare guests invited by the king and queen.

Valquiter’s gentle demeanor lasted through the meal, and Duke Vermonte and Irena upheld their ingrained social graces for a smooth conversation.

He even escorted them personally to their carriage.

“I enjoyed myself immensely today.”

Irena replied politely to Valquiter.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“I was delighted to finally see the famous lady in person.”

Duke Vermonte interjected upon catching the cue.

“Will we meet again?”

“Perhaps.”

His open-ended reply widened the duke’s eyes.

He always called Kaiyan a sly old fox, but even to him, Valquiter was no ordinary man.

The twenty-five-year-old king, same age as Kaiyan, somehow felt like he sat atop everyone’s heads, exuding pressure.

The duke felt an odd sensation he couldn’t name—though it was close to wariness between kindred spirits.

Since Irena lost her husband and was alone, this had been his biggest worry, so Valquiter’s friendly attitude thrilled him endlessly.

‘The king leaves room without hesitation.’

Nothing could be better for Irena’s future.

They could dine more, plan ahead!

The duke’s excitement showed no sign of fading, while Irena withdrew inwardly burdened yet expectant about the king she’d met.

Valquiter silently watched the carriage bearing Valmond’s noble father and daughter slowly descend the hill and vanish.

But as he turned to head inside, the angelic smile that had shone like divine favor vanished in an instant, leaving his face expressionless.

“Not that woman. Could it be the one I saw at the lake...”