Chapter 70

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 70

Chapter Title: Everyone's Worry

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"Y-You're worried about me?"

"...I'm paying for my room and board properly. It's only natural to worry about the princess."

Ah, is that how it works?

I smoothed down the area near my pounding heart and fixed my gaze on the teacup on the table.

If I look up now, he'll see my flushed face.

Unable to bear the increasingly strange atmosphere, I forced a casual laugh.

"St-Still, you don't need to worry about dessert too!"

...It's probably just my imagination, but his face seems a little red too.

The duke lightly rubbed his face and quickly returned to his usual composed expression.

It happened so fast that the flushed cheeks I'd glimpsed felt like a mirage.

Regaining his calm, he shook his head.

"The servants earnestly begged the pastry chef to take extra care. That's what I heard."

"Pardon?"

His following explanation left my mouth hanging open.

Apparently, ever since I collapsed, everyone around me had been paying meticulous attention to everything—from the temperature of my bathwater to every single ingredient in my meals.

...Talk about overprotective!

"...And yet, the princess was thinking about work again. That's what's truly astonishing."

I squirmed like a thief whose own feet had betrayed her as I listened in silence.

"Ah, that was just a coincidence while reading the letter...!"

"I suppose I should have all the reading material in the princess's room removed from now on."

"No!"

His absurd claim made my voice rise automatically. Truth be told, I'd been holding back a lot myself.

Even when I just wanted to peek at the progress on my comic production, people chased me away, saying Baroness Pavron—the new story writer—had arrived and I shouldn't touch anything.

Not just that, but whenever I tried to wander anywhere, they'd startle like I'd electrocuted them and shoo me off.

Thanks to that, I'd spent my entire rest period feeling like an outcast—though not quite.

And yet, I couldn't just lie around happily anymore, with all the messes I'd made piling up!

"Sorry, but no."

Unaware or uncaring of my inner turmoil, the duke replied in a firm tone.

"Isn't it strange that reading a letter made you think about the duchy wall construction project?"

"Well..."

Of course, taken alone, it did make my brain seem utterly broken.

But...

Misinterpreting my silence, the duke nodded with a told you so look on his face.

"Good thing you admit it."

"That's not what I...!"

"Liam."

Liam, who had been waiting nearby, stepped forward promptly.

"Yes, my lord."

"Remove everything readable from the princess's room right now."

Liam adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and shot me a glance.

"Understood. The head maid and everyone else will be delighted."

...I want to believe that wasn't intentional, but it was so infuriating that I gritted my teeth.

Why would everyone be delighted?!

There's a limit to being wrongly accused.

I let out a rough breath and rose from my seat.

"I'm going to get up now!"

"I can't allow that."

"Pardon?"

"While the servants diligently clean your room, isn't it polite to finish all the vanilla flan the pastry chef sweated over?"

Oh, right.

That's something I used to say to the duke often.

It's polite to polish off delicious desserts and even lick the plate clean.

"Princess. You wouldn't go back on your own words, would you?"

"Th-That..."

Overwhelmed by his flawless logic with no room for rebuttal, I plopped back down.

Then I scooped up the remaining flan and popped it into my mouth. It was so deliciously tear-jerking even in this moment, making me feel even more wronged.

The duke finally spoke as I was nearly finishing the plate.

"I've recently allocated an extra 30% budget to the kitchen."

I turned from the bowl, spoon still in my mouth, to look at him.

Why bring that up now?

"The head chef is using it to stock up on ingredients for all sorts of nourishing dishes."

Drop.

I froze mid-motion, a sudden thought flashing through my mind.

"N-No way... for me?"

He's not saying this to make me feel burdened, right?

Even after discounting my lodging, they're providing such great service?

Fortunately, as if reading my mind, the duke immediately denied it.

"If you're wondering whether I ordered it—I'm not."

"...?"

"The head chef requested the extra 30% budget. I reviewed it with my aides and approved it as reasonable."

So the nourishing foods and all that weren't at the duke's command, but something they did on their own?

"Everyone's been worrying about you."

In truth, I knew that to some extent.

Bonita fussed over me more than usual, and the aides I'd only spoken to a few times cheered me on whenever we crossed paths.

Lady Rainy even brought me a blanket she'd knitted herself, saying she'd made it for my recovery.

Even the artists scrambling with deadlines painted a massive landscape big enough to cover an entire wall as a gift, wishing for my quick recovery.

And Ian...

My bodyguard knight, who was so busy with his main duties that he sometimes worked part-time or vanished entirely, had lately been standing guard right outside my door whenever I so much as stepped out.

Unless I had zero social awareness, anyone could tell the people around me were concerned.

But what truly shocked me was that even people I hadn't properly spoken to were quietly looking after me.

I'd thought it was just Bonita and the others I saw often.

"I hear there's no one in this manor who hasn't benefited from the princess in some way."

"I... haven't really done anything special? I don't even know everyone's names..."

"You might have helped their families. For instance..."

Farmers fretting over missing harvest season, stuck at stalled dam construction sites.

Women facing scornful glares for lacking proper jobs.

Seasonal workers wandering the vast continent in search of gigs.

...People who received direct or indirect aid because the duchy's economy revived.

After that brief but weighty explanation, the duke added,

"And I consider the princess important as well."

Hearing that, I could have raised my voice out of embarrassment or brushed it off coolly.

But for some reason...

Was it the power of his handsome face?

In that moment, I felt those words sink deeply into the core of my heart, more profoundly than I could have imagined.

Late at night, the Salt Kingdom's royal palace was shrouded in an eerie silence.

In a hall where not even the candles were lit, Berga tilted his glass and spoke with a troubled expression.

"Remeia?"

"She still hasn't left her room."

"Tch."

She's probably still whining about calling off the marriage.

But right now, he had no energy left to placate his spoiled daughter.

The marriage he'd tried to push through as quickly as possible was now indefinitely postponed.

"Is the situation that serious?"

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. Hundreds of border folk have already fled."

It had all started with Remeia's mistake.

A minor issue he'd thought could be resolved by accepting some losses.

But contrary to his expectations, the food shortage snowballed beyond control. To the point where emptying the national treasury wouldn't suffice for relief.

And as if that weren't enough, an epidemic broke out, sending things into a downward spiral.

"Kuhuhu..."

A hollow laugh finally escaped Berga's lips.

In this dire crisis, neighboring countries had all taken a passive stance on food trade.

It hadn't taken long for his denied suspicions to prove true.

"How could we not notice the Kletan Empire's cavalry marching right up to our borders?"

Crown Prince Raiden intended to swallow Salt whole to solidify his power.

The hand gripping the king's glass trembled endlessly.

"If we send Remeia, could we sway the crown prince's heart?"

"We must try, Your Majesty."

"...Send an envoy."

A sense of foreboding hung over Salt's precarious skies, like a small boat adrift in a storm.