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9 a.m. The carriage passed through the royal palace gates.

Tristan, who had been reviewing docunts, suddenly felt sothing was off and looked up after a while.

He thought quite so ti had passed, but the scenery outside was still the main boulevard of the capital.

Tristan shouted toward the coachman, "Hey! Is the road really that congested? The festival structures that lasted until dawn should’ve been dismantled by now."

"The official takedown is done, but... it looks like citizens are blocking the roads as they trade leftover goods and dismantled booth materials from the festival."

"Ah... I didn’t think of that."

He had overlooked the things that don’t appear in administrative paperwork.

As expected, you really have to experience things firsthand to—

No, that’s not the problem here!

"Isn’t there another shortcut?"

He knew even as he said it that it was aningless.

If the main road was packed, the alleys would be even worse.

The coachman gave the expected answer.

"It’s better to wait for the main road to clear. I’ll get you there as quickly as possible once it does."

"Alright. It’s a long journey anyway, don’t overdo it."

Tristan buried his head back into the docunts.

First thing to check is the comparison between last year’s budget and this year’s expenditures. Make sure no one siphoned off money during the chaos... And at the sa ti, identify who were the Count’s loyalists and who could beco mine.

Thankfully, most of the estate workers he t during his last trip seed sharp and reasonable — probably the result of surviving under an incompetent lord.

Maybe because most of them were locals, they were genuinely pleased when I proposed support for farmland damaged by monsters. They shouldn’t resent my visit too much this ti either.

Of course, they wouldn’t exactly welco Tristan the boss, even if they tolerated Tristan the man.

Still, if it was sothing that had to be done, better to get it over with quickly.

Before marrying Dory and relocating, he needed to create as comfortable a nest for her as possible.

If Dory wished for him as a "husband" without loving him, then of course, he had to do everything he could to be the best husband.

Confirm which of the Count’s employees want to stay on, finish renovations before the wedding...

As he was thinking, the carriage started moving a little faster. Tristan stopped thinking and gazed outside.

The boisterous atmosphere had thinned a little under the bright sunlight but still lingered across the city.

Children were plucking and exchanging "Harvest Flowers" that still clung to fences, laughing brightly.

A couple erged from an alleyway, smoothing their rumpled clothes, looking like they had enjoyed so private ti.

A young boy belted out a song — sothing he probably learned yesterday — his voice loud and proud.

The carriage sped by, so Tristan couldn’t hear the whole song, but seeing the girl in front of him blush deeply, it was probably a love song.

A silly wave of jealousy and regret surged inside him.

...I really shouldn’t have confessed back then.

Impatience had made him squander countless opportunities. On sunny days, he could’ve given her flowers because the weather was fine. On rainy days, he could’ve done it just because it was gloomy.

What if, on a banquet night, he had pulled her behind the hall and sung a song just for her?

If he hadn’t spoken the words "I love you," he could have expressed it with every action instead.

Now... I can’t confess anymore.

He had promised to make her happy.

A Tristan lingering by a happy Dory’s side, clutching his heart, must never exist.

"We’re about to pass through the city gates, Your Highness," the coachman shouted.

Monts later, the carriage picked up speed and passed through the capital’s gates. A place he would see again in a week at most. But thinking that by next year he would have to leave this hotown for good left a restless feeling in his heart.

...I shouldn’t be feeling like this.

Dory would have to leave her hotown too, wouldn’t she?

Will Dory be okay? Damn it. I thought there wouldn’t be any real drawbacks for her if she married — and now I realize there’s a huge one...

His mind imdiately dove back into worries. Maybe there was a way for her to spend at least half a year each year here. But if Dory said, "I don’t want to leave my hotown," he wasn’t sure he could refuse her.

Just then, the carriage suddenly started slowing down.

Tristan looked up and surveyed the surroundings.

They were maybe a kiloter away from the city walls. At a glance, the road seed clear.

The cause of the slowdown appeared beyond the opposite window.

A royal carriage had caught up to his.

The four horses were foaming at the mouth from how hard they had been driven.

The coachman called out, "Prince Tristan! They say it’s Her Highness the Crown Princess’s carriage. She’s asking if she can speak with you now."

"What? Alright, understood."

Tristan, clueless about the reason, nonetheless stepped down from his carriage and approached the royal four-horse carriage.

The door opened, and the Crown Princess leaned out.

Her face was unmade — she must have rushed over in a hurry.

Tristan ntally braced himself, guessing it had to be sothing urgent.

The Crown Princess opened the conversation with an ordinary sentence.

"I only heard about your trip this morning. Are you sure you’ll be alright going alone?"

"Of course. All the dangerous work was dealt with on my last trip."

"What about attendants?"

"I’m used to camping out. If I need help, I’ll hire soone locally."

"Did you pack snacks?"

"...Pardon?"

Tristan doubted his ears.

Even though husband and wife were supposed to be of one body, could it be that the Crown Princess already thought Tristan and Dory were as good as one?

While Tristan was at a loss for words, the Crown Princess began rummaging for sothing inside her carriage.

The silence was broken by voices starting to pile up in front and behind the carriages.

"Um, would it be okay if we squeezed past?"

"Who’s blocking the road like—oh, ahem, sorry."

Carriages trying to leave and others trying to enter hesitantly surrounded them.

Normally, the day after a festival would an empty streets, but it seed a crowd had mistaken the festival dates.

While Tristan sat there swallowing endless uncomfortable silence, a maid finally erged from the Crown Princess’s carriage, carrying boxes and handing them to him.

"So many... Thank you very much."

The Crown Princess, who had also stepped down from the carriage, said,

"You could use these to win favor with the local workers. I hope you have a pleasant trip."

"Thank you again for your consideration. I hope you stay well until I return."

The Crown Princess climbed back into her carriage very slowly, and the carriage moved back toward the royal palace even more slowly than her ascent.

Tristan, maintaining proper decorum as a subordinate, watched her carriage retreat for a long mont before finally sighing and getting back into his own.

"Let’s move out."

"Looks like a coachman from an oncoming carriage slipped. We’ll depart as soon as the road clears."

"Sigh..."

If he had just walked, he would have been through this traffic jam already.

Tristan glanced at the troubleso carriage causing the blockage.

Its diagonal, half-turned position hinted at a serious lack of driving skill.

’You’d have to try pretty hard to ss up that badly even by accident.’

Other coachn from behind began to shout and approach, trying to figure out the delay.

"Alright, let’s move it already!"

Even if they asked nicely, Tristan doubted soone with that level of driving skill could actually clear the way.

Sitting around wasn’t helping. Maybe it would be faster to just get them to a hospital...

But then, the coachman up ahead simply brushed the dirt off his pants, quickly mounted his horse, and steered his carriage away, passing right by Tristan’s.

Tristan’s own coachman gave a bewildered laugh.

"If he could do that all along... Anyway, we’re departing now."

"Understood."

The coachman grabbed the reins.

Tristan finally leaned back against his seat and reached for the box of treats the Crown Princess had given him.

’She should know I’m not the type to care about these things. She should’ve given them to Dory... No, wait.’

Whatever her reason, the Crown Princess had been kind enough to think of him.

He opened the box, determined to at least eat one piece.

A click.

A sweet aroma filled the carriage...

And almost at the sa ti, the door to his carriage swung open.

A clumsy figure stumbled up the carriage steps.

"...Huh?"

Maybe due to the surrounding commotion, the coachman didn’t notice and started the carriage moving.

As it jerked forward, the stowaway nearly toppled over.

Tristan tossed the treat box aside and lunged forward just in ti to catch them.

The person tumbled into his arms, carrying a sweet, soapy scent he knew very well.

"Dory...?"

Steadying himself, Tristan hesitantly pushed back the woman buried in his arms. Yet every instinct scread at him: The soft weight, the rounded shoulders, the sun-drenched earth color of her hair—

It could only be her.

"Haah... haah..."

"Dory."

"Your Highness... Ah, good, I’m not late."

Dorys Redfield.

The woman he’d tried so hard not to yearn for had leapt right into his embrace.

This was no illusion.

"What... What are you doing here?"

"I read your letter. You expected to co, didn’t you?"

No. He hadn’t expected it. He had wished for it.

His mind felt ready to explode from joy. He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress it with pain. There was only one thing he had to do now.

"Dory, you have to go back. Get off the carriage!"

"If I was going to leave, would I have co here?"

"Dory!"

It was useless to argue. Tristan opened his mouth, ready to shout for the coachman to stop the carriage.

But Dory was faster. She reached out and desperately clamped her small hand over his mouth.

Through the tiny hand, so delicate it felt like a single breath could blow it away,

Dory looked up at him with eyes so sincere he knew she couldn’t possibly lie.

"Your Highness. Be honest. Do you really want to send away?"

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