Chapter 9 - First Love?

The moment Wellen stepped into the palace, he was bombarded with shocking rumors. Without heading to the crown prince’s office, located in the main palace, Isolé, he made a beeline for Ravello.

“I heard something happened last night,” Wellen began.

“Oh, Sir Wellen, about that…” Zeckley, an attendant, stammered in embarrassment. “I-I overheard someone demanding that clothes be taken off…”

“And then?”

“He left the room shortly afterward.”

“Did he seem very uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

An awkward silence hung between them as they exchanged glances and nodded. After a moment, Wellen inquired, “Where is His Highness now?”

“He’s still in his room. I think he’s fallen into a deep sleep.”

Wellen proceeded to the room where Kael was resting, swallowing nervously as he prepared himself. With a polite knock, he entered the room and said, “Your Highness, it’s Wellen.”

Kael, seated at the tea table, still appeared handsome despite his disheveled state from a sleepless night filled with excitement. Romance novels were strewn across the table, a clear indication that he hadn’t slept until morning.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Wellen greeted once more.

Without looking up at Wellen, Kael added honey to his steaming cup of tea and remarked, “You’ve deviated from your morning routine to visit me here.”

“I need to see Your Highness early to finish my work quickly, especially with all the extra tasks due to the war.”

“Don’t lie through your teeth,” Kael retorted, deliberately dropping the teaspoon, which clattered against the saucer. He lowered his gaze, lifted the cup of tea, and inhaled the sweet scent of honey wafting from the fragrant tea before taking a sip.

“I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness,” Wellen replied.

“What are you curious about?” Kael asked in disgust, keeping his eyes fixed on the auburn-hued tea.

He didn’t want to engage in a conversation with Wellen and was put off by his aide’s voice. Placing the teacup back on the saucer, he began tapping the table.

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, especially when it’s all your fault.”

“What did I do? I only told the servant that the crown prince wanted to see Irene M. Voltern. Oh, I might’ve mentioned that you appointed her.”

The moment Irene’s name left Wellen’s lips, Kael’s eyes flashed with intensity. He had been possessive of Irene, and it was irksome to hear her name from another man.

After a pause, he asked, “And when did I appoint her?”

“You specifically chose her when you reviewed that list,” Wellen replied, squaring his shoulders and wearing an unapologetic smile. His tone suggested he was wrongly accused, even though he was fully aware of his actions.

“I must be too lenient with all of you. You’re all conspirators!” Kael growled.

“In general, misunderstandings can happen when information is passed on. I apologize; I should’ve been more careful. It was a mistake.” When Kael fixed a fierce gaze on him, Wellen quickly admitted his error, lowered his head, and bit his lip. Privately, he believed he had done nothing wrong.

Since he didn’t let her go, he must’ve had a good time, right? Then, why’s he in such a bad mood… Oh!

As if a light bulb had gone off in his head, Wellen looked at Kael and asked, “Did you finish in three seconds?”

Caught off guard by Wellen’s blunt question, Kael spewed out the tea he had just sipped and choked loudly. His aide casually picked up a napkin from the table and wiped Kael’s face.

“Your Highness has only ever read books about it, and this was probably your first time. It’s normal for it to be quick initially. Don’t blame yourself too much. That’s why I suggested gaining some practice beforehand,” Wellen chimed.

After a long pause, Kael said, “Wellen.”

“Yes? Y-Your Highness?” Wellen replied with an awkward smile, crumpling the napkin in his hand.

“Earlier, you said misunderstandings can happen when information is passed on… I want to eliminate you right now. Tell me, how can I spread a rumor that might lead to your execution? If not…” Kael trailed off, gracefully reaching for a butter knife. When Wellen began to step back cautiously, Kael ordered, “Stop right there.”

“Your Highness…”

“Do you want your throat slit?”

Wellen watched as Kael plunged the butter knife into a scone and choked down his fear. His aide didn’t want to meet an early demise. After all, he hadn’t yet married his fiancée, Archel, or fathered a child.

“I need you to come closer…” Kael grinned, leaning back and resting his elbows on the armrests, crossing his hands and propping up his chin. His cheeky face wore a dazzling smile, but his eyes held no humor.

“Yes! Yes!” Wellen responded, briskly taking a seat across from Kael.

“Listen carefully. Nothing happened last night, so don’t spread any rumors. Instead, provide the results of your research.”

“Pardon? What do you mean nothing happened?”

“Do you really want me to release this knife and plunge it into your neck?”

“Ahem. Since Your Highness expressed interest, I conducted some research voluntarily.”

Kael nodded, lowered the butter knife, and placed it back on the table. He knew that, at most, he could hide something from Wellen for three or four days. Kael couldn’t compete with Wellen’s cunning mind. Rather than downplay his night with Irene, he decided it was better to discuss the incident openly.

“Irene M. Voltern, at the age of twenty-five, is the eldest daughter of the Count of Voltern. She has been engaged twice before, both engagements having been terminated. Her most recent engagement was with the current king of Theorin…”

As Wellen continued reciting his findings on Irene’s basic profile, Kael maintained a stoic expression. However, from time to time, he gripped the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white, or clenched his fists until his veins popped.

“…And that concludes the report.”

Seeing the crown prince deep in thought as he pondered the information, Wellen decided to step up his playful teasing by pointing toward the stack of novels near the tea table.

“Maybe you should take a page from the duke in the novel.”

“Should I? Compared to the duke in the novel… Hmm… Well, but the baron from ‘The Baron’s Gardener’ is quite a character—”

Kael bit his lip when he realized Wellen had outwitted him. Despite his earlier attempts to act nonchalant, Wellen’s prodding had caused him to slip up. It was as though Wellen had stumbled upon his secret diary. Kael took a sip of tea to calm his nerves, but the once-flavorful tea had turned tasteless.

“I put a lot of effort into my research, thinking you were interested in her talent, but it seems you’re more focused on fulfilling Her Majesty’s request. That’s fine too.”

“This is just a hobby,” Kael firmly denied, glancing at the stack of books.

“I see… So, this is your… hobby.” Wellen raised an eyebrow, his curious gaze piercing Kael.

He clearly spent the night studying up on relationships. He’s a terrible liar. Dearest mother and father, it seems that spring has finally come for the crown prince!

Overwhelmed by embarrassment, Kael avoided Wellen’s eyes and pretended not to understand the implications. But after spending so many years with Wellen, how could he not grasp the meaning behind Wellen’s words? He had practically admitted to having a crush, and Wellen would undoubtedly tease him about it.

Blushing furiously, Kael fanned his face and remarked, “Is it because of the fireplace? It feels rather warm.”

“Oh! I forgot to mention one more thing about the lady. During our journey here and since our arrival, she hasn’t been eating much. Most of the food served to her remains untouched, and she hasn’t left her room.”

Annoyed, Kael clicked his tongue when Wellen’s words confirmed his suspicions. He had hoped Irene wouldn’t crumble under the sudden loss imposed on her by others, but it seemed she was hiding her pain to appear strong.

“Arrange a formal meeting between Irene and me, and make sure to offer a formal apology on your part. Also, know that your indiscretion has resulted in a three-month pay cut.”

“Yes, I will—”

“I believe today’s lunch would be a suitable time,” Kael coldly interrupted, not waiting for Wellen’s response. He stood up wordlessly and left the room.

Once the crown prince was out of sight, Wellen patted the chair cushion and burst into laughter. Sporting a goofy grin, he rubbed his ears, realizing that Kael’s attempt to casually suggest lunch with Irene had been his real intention. Rather than the punishment, Wellen was more concerned about the implied threat to his life.

“I guess you really want to die.” Despite his icy tone, the crown prince wore a radiant smile, wagging a finger at his aide and saying, “Come here.”

“Y-Your Highness?” Wellen stammered in surprise. Had his celebrations been premature? Wellen forced a smile, feeling as though he were walking the plank.

As Wellen approached, Kael suddenly lunged at him and growled, “I might just kill you.”

“I-I’m sorry. Nooo!” Wellen cried out, dodging Kael’s attack and darting past Jackley and Jean before running down the hallway.

When Kael’s gaze turned to Jean and Jackley, who were shaking their heads and sighing as they watched Wellen’s escape, he said, “Everyone involved in last night’s fiasco will be held accountable, including both of you.”

“Understood. We’ll gather the names and report them to you,” Jackley and Jean said nervously, their apprehension palpable as they felt Kael’s stern presence weighing down on them. As the crown prince walked away, they exchanged glances, realizing that a wind of change was about to sweep through Ravello.

* * *

Despite the morning commotion, Irene remained undisturbed in her slumber. Once the events of the morning had settled down, Ravello Palace returned to a quiet state. Only the subtle sounds of servants going about their tasks could be heard, lulling Irene into an even deeper sleep.

“It will be noon soon,” Jean commented with concern.

As the sun rose high in the sky, Irene still showed no signs of waking. Worried, the head maid gently cracked the door open and entered Kael’s bedroom. Her eyes caught sight of the silver strands of hair scattered on the pillow, and she heard the slow, steady rhythm of breathing.

“Is she this exhausted?”

Thinking that a bit of sunlight might wake Irene, Jean approached the window. However, just as she was about to draw the curtain, Irene, with her shimmering hair, suddenly sat up in bed and exclaimed, “Ack!”