Chapter 020: Let’s Go to Anata Territory! (1)

“Our little sister certainly knows how to speak well, doesn’t she?”

Lucas sought agreement from the attendant standing behind him.

“We greet the Sun of Hernia.”

At his appearance, everyone knelt to offer their respects.

However, Lucas ignored everyone else and fixed his disdainful gaze solely on Rosalyn.

“But it seems our sister’s greetings have become quite brief, haven’t they?”

He criticized Rosalyn’s simple formality. Not content with interrupting her speech, his intent to mock her was clear.

“Unfortunately, what can I do, since I’m no longer His Majesty’s knight?”

Rosalyn shrugged as she replied.

“Perhaps His Majesty shouldn’t have granted me the title of Grand Duke.”

“Well, you know how it is. People don’t tend to take much interest in things they’ve been looking at for too long.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to work hard to show you a new picture.”

“Oh?”

“But new things aren’t always good, you know. The newer it is, the more dangerous it tends to be.”

Each word was laced with malice and hostility, though it was wrapped in polite language.

“Yes, dangerous indeed. That’s why I came to see you off on your last journey, didn’t I?”

Lucas smirked, raising only one corner of his mouth.

“I wish you a peaceful journey.”

His words of peace sounded more like a warning that it would be anything but.

“Yes, I’ll have a peaceful journey, so you needn’t worry.”

Heh. Lucas chuckled softly, only loud enough for Rosalyn to hear. Then, he turned his gaze to the others still kneeling before him.

At first, Rosalyn thought his gaze was simply a way to check the Anata faction.

“……”

But then, the Emperor’s eyes lingered just a moment longer on one person. Rosalyn noticed this and furrowed her brow slightly.

It was Sionne Feitan.

‘What’s that about?’

A sense of unease crept into her heart as she frowned. But she quickly brushed off her suspicions.

It was nearly time for them to depart.

Shortly after, Rosalyn mounted the lead horse and shouted,

“Let’s go to Anata territory!”

The Anata party slowly began to make their way out of the palace. During the entire procession, Rosalyn didn’t look back.

Just like that day seven years ago.

* * *

Inside the carriage, Rosalyn had been going through documents but could no longer hold back her frustration and raised her head.

‘Again…!’

What bothered her wasn’t the jostling of the carriage or the nausea from riding for so long.

The real culprit was the cunning and troublesome man sitting right in front of her.

“What exactly are you doing, Prince?”

“Pardon?”

Sionne, who had been staring out the window, feigned ignorance and asked innocently.

“Ha, did you really just say, ‘Pardon?’”

She had sent him to the front when he tried to sit next to her, ignored him when he tried to talk, and glared at him when he fidgeted.

And now, for some time, he had been quietly stepping on her foot. It wasn’t painful, but it was persistent and heavy.

“For a lover, you sure have guts stepping on the Grand Duke’s foot. I’ve noticed you’ve got some nerve.”

Rosalyn shook off Sionne’s foot from hers.

“If you bother me one more time, you’ll be walking until those insolent feet of yours are blistered.”

“But, Your Grace…”

It was Sionne who stopped her from returning her attention to the documents.

“You keep pretending I don’t exist. Are you perhaps afraid of me?”

“Afraid?”

Rosalyn couldn’t suppress a laugh at such a ridiculous provocation.

“Isn’t that the case? You don’t talk to me, won’t even let me touch you.”

“Get your words straight. The one who’s afraid isn’t me—it’s you.”

Rosalyn put down her documents and looked directly at him.

“You’re afraid that I’ll abandon you the moment we arrive in Anata, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am afraid.”

To her surprise, his blue eyes met hers head-on, without hesitation.

“I’m afraid that Your Grace will abandon me.”

“……”

Rosalyn, who had meant to mock him, suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Sarcasm and wordplay were no match for sincerity.

For someone who had never lost a verbal sparring match, this was a bewildering experience.

“…They called you the ‘Pure White Prince’ in Feitan, didn’t they?”

She shifted the conversation, referring to something she had read in a report.

At the mention of the nickname, one of Sionne Feitan’s eyebrows twitched.

“And me? What did they call me… ah, yes, the ‘Red Witch!’ The people of Feitan sure love comparing things to colors, don’t they?”

“It’s just a nickname that ignorant people came up with.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather be a witch than some princess waiting for a prince.”

Rosalyn shrugged.

“So, does that make you the prince kidnapped by the witch?”

“It’s not kidnapping.”

“Hm?”

“I’m here because I want to be.”

Sionne’s next words wiped the smile off Rosalyn’s face.

“So tell me, why does the prince insist on staying near the witch?”

“Is a reason necessary?”

“There’s no money without purpose in this world, and no emotion without reason.”

Rosalyn glanced outside, already feeling that traveling in the same carriage with Sionne Feitan was becoming unbearable.

“That’s why when someone says there’s no reason, it’s all the more cause for suspicion and caution.”

“Love never needs a reason.”

Without blinking, Sionne smoothly delivered his lie.

It was unfortunate. At 21, Rosalyn was too young to notice how lifeless a man’s eyes were when professing love.

“Then let’s see.”

“?”

“Whether I fall in love with you first, or you come to hate me first.”

It was already a fight with a predetermined outcome. Sionne already hated her.

Unaware of this, Rosalyn tapped on the carriage wall where the driver sat.

When the carriage came to a stop, Rosalyn opened the door herself and smiled.

“Well then, Prince, do get off.”

* * *

“Hah… hah…”

Sionne panted as he climbed up a steep hill.

The road between the empire and Anata wasn’t in great condition due to the lack of trade. The uneven terrain was full of rocks and tree roots, making it easy to trip.

The path was challenging for the entire Anata party, but it was particularly grueling for Sionne.

‘The Grand Duke’s lover.’

Because of his ambiguous position, he had no privileges unless Rosalyn provided them.

And she had prepared nothing for him on this journey.

No carriage, no horse, no tent—nothing.

As a result, Sionne had to walk all day and sleep in discomfort.

Even with his strong endurance, walking for a week straight wasn’t easy. Especially on a path where he constantly stumbled over obstacles.

‘She planned this from the start.’

As soon as they had left the capital, Rosalyn had kicked him out of the carriage.

‘Fights between lovers are common, aren’t they?’

The cunning woman had taken a deep breath before shouting at him, loud enough for everyone to hear:

‘You’re really exhausting me! Get out of the carriage, Sionne Feitan!’

Her delivery had been awkward, like a novice actor reading lines from a script. But her loud voice and dramatic performance had ensured that it didn’t sound fake.

‘For the record, I prefer smart people. So stop being stubborn and making things difficult for both of us.’

Sionne recalled her whispered words as she closed the carriage door and clenched his teeth.

‘She wants me to give up and fall behind.’

Unfortunately for her, that would never happen.

“Ugh.”

Sionne stifled a groan. With each step, the muscles at the back of his legs throbbed. His feet, swollen and covered in blisters from the endless walking, ached with every movement.

But still, he kept walking.

‘If I were going to give up over something like this, I wouldn’t have started this wretched performance in the first place.’

Rosalyn de Anata was mistaken.

Sionne Feitan’s persistence didn’t come from love—it stemmed from hatred. And all her tactics were only fueling that hatred.

“Whoa, whoa—”

Before long, the group slowed their pace as they reached a field. The knights in the lead stopped, and the carriages and wagons followed suit.

“We’ll rest and have lunch here before we continue!”

‘Hah…’

Sionne let out a sigh. The upcoming break would be more exhausting than the journey itself.

He took his meal and found a spot under a tree, far from everyone else.

“Well, well, Prince. Eating over here, are we?”

The one responsible for making his rest even harder appeared with a grin.

Aaron Vanil. He was someone Sionne had encountered a few times on the battlefield.

Of course, they had met as enemies, so it would have been strange for him to be friendly.

Still, Aaron Vanil was different.

While other knights might sneer or spit, they never went out of their way to harm him. But Aaron made it his mission to torment Sionne.

‘Approaching me now that she’s gone to her tent.’

And Sionne had almost figured out the reason.

“Does that bread go down smoothly? For someone who survived by selling his body?”

Aaron wasted no time in spitting insults at him.