"Important Words?"
A man who usually speaks without filtering, throwing out both necessary and unnecessary remarks, now claims he has important words to share?
This must be serious.
A slight tension gripped my hands. What exactly had he brought here to say?
“Yes, Your Highness. Whatever you wish to share, I will listen.”
“What do you know of Blue Atrium?”
“Of course, Your Highness. It’s a northeastern territory without a designated heir.”
“And do you know it was supposed to be mine?”
“…Yes. It was never explicitly stated, but it was understood to be the case.”
“Good. Then this will go quicker.”
Tristan gripped the teacup before him so tightly that his fingers turned white. Slowly, he spoke.
“Monsters have appeared in Blue Atrium.”
I know!
But how should I react to this?
I decided to follow the lead of the maids back at the count’s estate.
“Oh, is that so?”
“…You don’t seem very surprised.”
“It’s hard to fear what I know so little about, Your Highness. All I’ve heard is that they are magical creatures from the north. Oh, and there was a rumor about a knight returning covered in blood.”
“That knight was the one I sent to scout Blue Atrium.”
Wait, what?
Tristan… sent a scouting party?
Not only had he done sothing resembling actual work, but he’d also taken the initiative on a matter not even officially his yet. Even if it was more like studying for a future responsibility, it was still shocking.
While I was caught off guard by this revelation, Tristan continued speaking.
“What I’m about to say must not leave this room. Not that you have anyone to tell, but… well, perhaps I shouldn’t assu.”
“…Of course, Your Highness. Please, go on.”
“Based on the knight’s injuries and the damage to his armor, the monsters appear to be aggressive, covered in hard scales. Soldiers trained for man-to-man combat would struggle against them.”
“You know a lot about monsters. Have you fought them before?”
“I haven’t, but Frost Hill compiles annual reports on battles with monsters and sends them to the capital. My conclusions are based on those reports.”
Tristan reads reports? And draws conclusions from them?
Today was full of surprises. One by one, my preconceived notions about him were crumbling, leaving questioning reality itself.
Tristan’s voice grew heavier as he reached his conclusion.
“For that reason, His Majesty is likely to entrust Blue Atrium to the young duke of Frost Hill. He will manage the territory for a ti and later rge it with Frost Hill once the situation stabilizes.”
“Is that certain?”
“…As certain as snow in winter.”
So, 99%.
“I see.”
“Yes.”
“….”
“….”
The conversation stalled. Tristan seed to have said everything he intended to. He picked up his teacup but set it back down on the saucer with a clatter, not having taken a single sip.
It was as if he were bracing himself for my reaction, as though he’d just delivered particularly bad news.
What am I supposed to say here? I already knew about this, so I didn’t feel much of anything.
“M-Monsters usually appear without warning, don’t they?”
My attempt to empathize ca out as a clumsy question. Tristan raised an eyebrow.
“Do you expect monsters to blow a horn before attacking?”
“No, I an! When your knight was injured, do you think the lord of Blue Atrium had no idea monsters were there beforehand?”
“Ah.”
Tristan shook his head.
“When monsters erge, there are usually signs—sinkholes in the mountains, the carcasses of apex predators. Apparently, there were rumors among the herbalists. It seems the lord of Blue Atrium deliberately kept it quiet.”
“Such incompetence! This isn’t the sort of problem you can solve by hiding it!”
“The lord wasn’t interested in solving anything.”
“…Excuse ?”
“That bitter old man likely wanted to inherit Blue Atrium without knowing anything, just to see suffer.”
“Ah…”
That was easy to believe.
Considering how he’d gone scouring for a long-lost illegitimate child just to stir up trouble, pulling such petty stunts seed entirely in character.
At least now I knew how to respond.
“That’s truly a relief, Your Highness! You almost ended up with such a dangerous territory!”
“….”
“And with the young duke in the capital, the transfer process will be much smoother… Your Highness?”
Tristan was staring at with an expressionless face.
He didn’t seem angry.
Yet, for soone who usually wore a smirk brimming with arrogance, this unreadable look felt… unsettling.
“Do you really think it’s a relief?”
“…Are you upset about losing the territory you were supposed to inherit? Don’t worry, His Majesty will surely find you a good alternative.”
“That’s not it. It’s sothing completely different.”
“…Your Highness?”
“….”
Normally, this would be the point where I’d snap, “What exactly is the problem?” and demand he get to the point. Why was he dancing around the issue?
But right now, everything felt… different.
The serene tea house, the pancakes we’d shared, and Tristan’s uncharacteristically vulnerable expression—all of it silenced .
The man who was always elegant and arrogant now seed strangely desperate, even wounded.
“...I think, perhaps, I wanted you to trust ,” he finally said.
“What? Your Highness, what do you an?”
His words caught completely off guard, leaving my mind blank.
Was he saying I didn’t trust him?
Of all people, I’d probably declared “I trust Prince Tristan” more than anyone else in the entire kingdom!
“I have always trusted you, Your Highness! Think about it. I’ve waited for you at every ball as your fiancée! I don’t care if you never govern a single piece of land!”
“Enough. Forget I said anything.”
Forget it? You can’t just drop a line like that and expect not to care!
I wanted to grab his cheeks and pull, but I restrained myself. A lady must maintain decorum.
I looked him squarely in the eyes.
But by then, Tristan’s expression had already reverted to sothing more familiar—a subtle smirk and a hint of condescension. He gazed down at with those beautiful, confident eyes.
“Did you enjoy the pancakes?”
“…Yes. Very much.”
“I’m glad.”
His lips curled into a faint smile.
“Let ask you one thing.”
His tone made nervous. The atmosphere suggested he was about to ask sothing serious.
If it turned out to be one of those hypothetical tests like “Would you still love if I lost everything?” I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep a straight face.
But his question was entirely unexpected.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“…Excuse ?”
“You’ve been repeating yourself quite a bit today. Am I speaking in riddles?”
“Objectively, no.”
“Well, that’s a relief. So, what’s your answer?”
“Hmm… I like sky blue. Particularly the sort that looks streaky, like in watercolor paintings.”
“Understood.”
“Why are you asking about colors all of a sudden?”
“Who knows.”
“….”
“Anyway, I’ve said all I ca to say. From now on, focus on your own matters.”
He gestured to the nu, clearly suggesting I order more if I wanted.
But my appetite had already vanished.
Instead, curiosity began to bubble up inside .
The most pressing question was, of course—
“Your Highness, are you… unwell?”
The way he’d been acting, it was almost as if he were dying and wanted to repent for his sins.
Tristan’s face twisted in disbelief.
“I’m perfectly fine. What makes you ask such a ridiculous thing?”
You don’t look fine. Especially not emotionally.
“It’s nothing. I’m glad to hear you’re healthy.”
“If I ever feel like I’m about to collapse, you’ll be the first to know. Now, what’s your next order? It doesn’t seem like you have any other plans today.”
There he goes again! Just when I was starting to worry, he pulled this.
But he wasn’t wrong about my schedule, and I wasn’t soone to let pride get in the way of a good al. I raised the nu confidently.
“Correct! I’ll have pancakes with raspberry jam, blueberry compote, and a lemon tart!”
I probably won’t be able to look at pancakes for the next two months.
I was already full by the ti I’d finished the first plate, but there was no way I’d leave a single crumb after ordering so boldly. So I forced down every bite.
As a result, I couldn’t say a word on the carriage ride ho, clutching my overstuffed stomach.
Thankfully, Tristan didn’t attempt to make conversation.
Of course, he did take a jab at .
“Ridiculous,” he muttered, staring out the window.
It was obviously ant for .
All I could do was hug my bloated belly and watch his profile as the carriage rattled on.
The afternoon sunlight poured over his face. With his eyes closed, his long lashes cast shadows that resembled brushstrokes.
He looked… strangely serene, like a great stag basking in the forest.
…This feels odd.
I’d always seen Tristan amidst crowds—mocking n, charming ladies, or standing proud before high-ranking nobles.
In other words, I’d only ever seen him interacting with others in a calculated way, as if every conversation were a reaffirmation of status and power.
Back then, it had been nothing but irritating.
But now…
“…Wasn’t it exhausting?”
I couldn’t help but wonder.
Tristan, who are you, really?
In the original story, he was just a petty supporting character who annoyed the protagonists. That’s all he needed to be for the narrative. Any extra information about him would have been unnecessary fluff.
But beneath the surface, was there more to him than “an arrogant prince with a taste for beautiful won?”
“I did learn so surprising things today.”
He’d sent scouts to Blue Atrium, read reports, and drawn conclusions about the situation.
And he’d gone out of his way to find a nice tea house to share important news with his fiancée.
…Hey, Tristan.
“Your Highness,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The words were lost in the noise of the carriage wheels.
I asked him a question he couldn’t hear.
Tristan, what do you like?
…No.
What I really wanted to ask was sothing else.
Why did you look so hurt earlier?
Tristan, what wounds you?
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