"Something important?"
This guy, who blurts out whatever crosses his mind, whether appropriate or not, actually differentiates something as 'important'? This doesn't seem like an ordinary situation.
Feeling slightly tense, I unconsciously clenched my hands. What on earth could he have come all this way to say?
"Very well, Your Highness. I'll listen to whatever you have to say."
"Are you aware of the Blue Atrium?"
"Of course. Isn't it the northeastern territory currently without an heir?"
"Do you also know it was meant to be mine?"
"…Yes. While not officially stated, I understand it was a foregone conclusion."
"Good. That will make this conversation quicker."
Tristan gripped the teacup in front of him so tightly that his fingers turned white, then slowly began to speak.
"Monsters have appeared in the Blue Atrium."
I know that already!
But how should I react?
I referenced how the maids from the count's residence reacted to the news.
"Oh my, is that so?"
"…You don't seem very surprised."
"It's hard to be scared of something I know so little about. Other than that they're monsters infused with northern magical energy… Oh, and I did hear a rumor about a knight returning covered in blood."
"Indeed. That was the knight I sent to scout the Blue Atrium."
What?
Tristan… sent someone to scout? He actually worked?
Well, since the land isn't officially his yet, it's more like preparation than actual work, but still, it's surprising.
While I grappled with my misplaced astonishment, Tristan continued his explanation.
"What I'm about to say stays between us. Not that you have anyone to tell, but… Well, perhaps you do. No prejudices here."
"…Yes, Your Highness. Please, go ahead."
"Based on the knight's injuries and the damage to his armor, these monsters are assumed to be offensive types, covered in tough scales. They'll be difficult for soldiers trained primarily in human combat to handle."
"Have you fought monsters before? You seem quite knowledgeable."
"Not directly, but Frosthill compiles information on monster encounters every year and sends reports. I based my conclusions on those."
Tristan… actually reads reports? And draws conclusions from them?
Today has been full of surprises. With all these shattered preconceptions, I'm starting to wonder if I'm dreaming.
Finally, Tristan's increasingly somber tone reached its conclusion.
"As a result, His Majesty is likely to entrust the Blue Atrium to the Frosthill Archduke. The young duke will manage it temporarily, and once the situation stabilizes, it will probably be annexed to Frosthill."
"Is that certain?"
"…No. It's as likely as snow in winter."
So, a 99% chance.
"I see."
"Exactly."
"…"
"…"
The conversation ended there. Tristan seemed to have said everything he intended to. He picked up his teacup, but instead of drinking, he placed it back on the saucer with a faint clink, the contents untouched.
It felt as though he was bracing himself, waiting for my reaction after delivering bad news.
But… I already knew all of this. I didn't feel anything about it.
"Do… do monsters usually appear without warning?"
I ended up asking a rather unempathetic question. Tristan gave me a puzzled look before answering.
"Would you expect monsters to blow a trumpet before attacking?"
"That's not what I meant! I was wondering if there were any signs before they appeared. For instance, did the lord have no inkling before your knight was attacked?"
"Ah."
Tristan shook his head.
"There are often strange signs: sinkholes in the mountains, the carcasses of apex predators. I heard there were rumors among herbalists… but it seems the lord of the Blue Atrium deliberately kept it quiet."
"What an irresponsible lord! This isn't something you can just hide!"
"Resolving the issue wasn't their concern to begin with."
"Pardon?"
"The spiteful old man probably wanted me to inherit the Blue Atrium, ignorant of its problems, and watch me struggle."
"Ah…"
That made sense immediately.
Remembering the lord's temper, who once desperately sought out a bastard child he'd disowned, it wouldn't be surprising for him to pull such a petty stunt.
Thanks to that, I finally figured out how to respond to Tristan's words.
"That's such a relief, Your Highness! You could've been given such a dangerous land."
"…"
"It's perfect timing that the young duke is in the capital. The succession process will be smoother, too… Your Highness?"
Tristan was staring at me with an unreadable expression.
He didn't seem angry, but seeing someone who always wore a cocky, confident smile suddenly look so blank felt… unsettling.
"Do you really think it's a relief?"
"…Are you upset about losing a territory you were supposed to receive? Don't worry, I'm sure His Majesty will find you a better one."
"No. It's an entirely different matter."
"Your Highness."
"...."
If it had been the usual me, by now I would've asked straight out, "What exactly is the problem?" Why was he beating around the bush?
But now, something different from usual kept me from speaking, and I found myself waiting for Tristan to say something next.
The quiet tea house, the pancakes we enjoyed together, Tristan wearing an expression I had never seen before…
The man who was always elegant and arrogant now wore a look that was somehow desperate, yet wounded…
"…I guess I hoped you would believe in me."
"Excuse me? Your Highness, what do you mean?"
I was stunned by the unexpected words.
Does that mean he thinks I didn't trust him?
In this country, no one has probably said "I trust Prince Tristan" as much as I have.
"I've always believed in you! Think about it. At every banquet, I've waited for you as my fiancé! I don't care if you never rule a single piece of land!"
"No, it's fine. Don't worry about it."
He says "don't worry" after making me worry!
I wanted to pull his cheek, but I held back and tried to act like a lady.
I gave him a focused look.
But Tristan's expression had already returned to its usual calm. He had regained some composure and looked down at me with beautiful eyes.
"Was it delicious?"
"…Yes, very."
"Good."
Tristan smiled.
"I'll ask just one thing."
I felt a bit tense. It seemed like he was about to ask something serious.
What if it was one of those 'Would you still like me if I was destitute?' kind of test questions? I wouldn't be able to hide my embarrassment.
But Tristan's question was:
"What color do you like?"
"Excuse me?"
"You've been questioning me a lot today. Am I using difficult vocabulary?"
"Objectively, not really."
"Ah, that's a relief. So, what's your answer?"
"Well… I like sky blue. Especially the kind that looks a bit patchy, like watercolor."
"I see."
"Why are you asking about colors all of a sudden?"
"Well…"
"…"
"My business today is finished. Now, we'll focus on your business."
Tristan pointed at the menu. He probably meant for me to eat more and leave whenever I wanted.
But I had lost my appetite.
Instead, more questions kept coming to mind.
The one thing I was most curious about was undoubtedly—
"Your Highness, you're not feeling ill, are you?"
The way he's acting makes it seem like he's about to die or something!
Tristan looked at me in disbelief.
"I'm perfectly fine. Why are you asking such a thing?"
Because you don't look fine. Especially emotionally.
"It's nothing. I'm just glad to hear you're healthy."
"If I were about to collapse, I'd contact you first. Now, what's your next order? It seems like you don't have any plans today."
Ah! If I show even a little concern, he quickly turns it back!
But it was true that I had no plans, and since I value profit over pride, I grabbed the menu and shouted, "Correct! I'll have pancakes with raspberry jam, blueberry compote, and a lemon tart!"
It looked like I wouldn't have to see another pancake for the next two months.
In fact, after finishing two pancakes, I was already full, but I didn't want to look silly by ordering food I couldn't eat, so I pushed the remaining pancakes into my stomach. As a result, I didn't say a word on the way back home in the carriage.
Fortunately, Tristan didn't say a word to me.
Well, he did throw a little jab.
"Such a fool."
He said it while looking out the window, but I was pretty sure it was meant for me.
All I could do was hug my bloated belly and look at the side of Tristan's face.
As the carriage moved, the afternoon sunlight fell on his face. Tristan closed his eyes, and the shadow of his lashes stretched long. It was like looking at a large deer.
…It felt strange.
I had always seen Tristan as a man among other people—at parties, looking down on men, confidently smiling in front of ladies, behaving politely but assertively in front of high-ranking nobles…
In other words, he didn't seem to enjoy talking to others as people, but rather just reaffirmed the relationships he had with them.
Back then, it was just annoying.
Now that I think about it…
'…Wasn't he tired?'
I suddenly became curious.
Tristan, what kind of person are you?
In the original story, Tristan was nothing more than an annoying supporting character who constantly bothered the protagonist. Naturally. Since the romance between Maria and Arthur was the focus, any information about others was just unnecessary text.
But behind that, was there any information that wasn't about the "annoying, woman-loving third prince"?
'I learned some unexpected things earlier.'
Sending scouts to the Blue Atrium, reading reports, inferring the current situation.
Looking for a good restaurant to deliver important news to his fiancée…
Tristan…
"Your Highness."
I spoke very softly, almost muttering, the words barely audible over the sound of the carriage wheels.
I threw the question in my mind, one Tristan couldn't hear.
Tristan.
What do you like?
…No.
Actually, I want to ask something else.
'Why did you make that wounded expression earlier?'
Tristan. What things hurt you?