"Huh? S-suddenly? Don’t you need to go give your gift to your hunter?"
"Well… I’m not ready yet. Just thinking about it makes my heart pound," Maria said, her face flushed red.
"Um, if it’s okay, could I co with you when you give your handkerchief? Watching you might give so courage."
No way.
Now I was just as terrified to hand Tristan my plain, uninspired gift.
But more importantly, there was a second, far bigger reason.
In the original story, Maria doesn’t give her gift to Arthur on ti.
This was because her uncle had told her, “Give your gift to soone less sought-after. Picking soone highly competitive could leave you empty-handed, and that would be a disgrace.”
While Maria was hesitating, Arthur, rejecting all other ladies’ gifts, entered the hunt empty-handed. Yet, in classic cliché fashion, he eventually received Maria’s handkerchief anyway.
The setup? Arthur gets injured protecting Maria, and she uses her handkerchief to bind his wound—the quintessential romantic trope.
Now is definitely not the ti!
I quickly ca up with an excuse.
"For your sake, Maria, it’s better if you don’t co. The person I’m giving my handkerchief to is none other than Prince Tristan."
"What?"
"He’s been bothering you since the start of the season, hasn’t he? Of course, I plan to do my best to… uh… offer him so advice so he changes his attitude!"
"…"
"But for now, I’m worried he might approach you again and make you uncomfortable—"
But Maria shook her head and said sothing unexpected.
"Well… to be honest, it’s true he was a bit much at the beginning of the season."
"Exactly! He asked you to dance several tis until you gave in!"
"But that kind of attention stopped quite a while ago. It’s been so long since his last invitation that I can’t even rember it."
Wait, what?
"Doris, think about it. Even at the royal party in May when we first t, didn’t he avoid dancing with ?"
"Well… yes, but…"
"The prince isn’t interested in anymore."
Maria’s expression was completely sincere.
"Like many young nobles, he was briefly enthusiastic at the start of the season, but that faded quickly. You don’t need to worry anymore."
"…Thanks."
I said it, but doubt lingered in my mind.
Tristan? Giving up that easily?
If he had, it would be good news for him as a person but unsettling from the perspective of the original plot.
While I mulled this over, Maria cautiously asked another question.
"By the way, who is your sister giving her gift to?"
Why is she asking that?
Though puzzled, I answered honestly.
"She didn’t prepare anything. She thinks just accepting soone’s gift is a blessing in itself."
"Wow, that’s amazing. It’s that kind of confidence that makes Lady Natalie’s allure so extraordinary."
Genuinely admiring Natalie, Maria revealed the true reason behind her question.
"Actually, my uncle said… that the Earl and Countess Redfield seem intent on forming a marriage alliance with the young marquis."
Ah, so the rumors reached the yers as well.
Of course they did. With how desperate my parents were to host a party, they might as well have written "Hurry up and welco Arthur as our son-in-law" on their foreheads.
I nodded.
"You’re right. They’re going all out to bring the Northern Duke into the family. But it’ll never happen."
"Why not?"
"Because neither my sister nor I are interested in him. He’s a fine man, but we’d rather be friends than anything more."
"Won’t your parents object?"
I shrugged.
"Oh, they’ve voiced their objections a million tis already. But who cares? I’d rather have them be disappointed in than end up hating myself for ignoring my own feelings."
"Wow…"
Maria’s eyes sparkled.
"Doris, you’re so amazing!"
Even the young maid next to her nodded in agreent. This was getting embarrassing.
"It’s really nothing."
"Don’t be shy. Every story I’ve heard about social marriages has been about matching status or eting parental expectations. You’re the first person to talk about the importance of your own heart!"
Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not it! I’m just soone who’s settling for third place in the lottery of life and trying to make peace with it!
But Maria’s eyes shone as though she’d found hope for the first ti in the grim world of noble politics.
And that was what worried .
"Thank you, Doris. You’ve given courage."
"Uh…"
"I feel like I can be honest with you. As you probably guessed from what I said earlier, the person I truly want to give my gift to is Arthur… the young marquis."
I know.
"Even if I don’t receive anything in return, I want to offer him my gift. For the sake of staying true to my heart!"
Murphy’s Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
That’s my life in a nutshell!
But my brain worked quickly, finding an escape route.
"Calm down, Maria. It’s not the right ti yet."
"What do you an?"
"You rember what your uncle said, don’t you? ‘Give your gift to soone less popular.’"
"Of course, I rember."
"If you go to give your gift to the young marquis now, when everyone is watching who gives gifts to whom, your uncle will undoubtedly find out by tomorrow. And he’ll know you disobeyed him!"
Maria’s slender fingers tightened around the box.
"Then what should I do?"
"Aim for tonight. The evening banquet will be dark and noisy, the perfect opportunity to et him alone. If it cos to it, I’ll help you!"
"Doris…!"
Maria’s eyes sparkled with gratitude, stabbing at my guilty conscience like tiny daggers.
It’s fine. I’m not doing anything bad, right?
Maria would have a lovely ti with Arthur tonight. Everything would work out perfectly!
With the topic of gifts settled for now, the three of us—cramd into the tiny tent with nothing to do—decided to step out and explore before the opening ceremony began.
The air between the tents was thick with pinkish anticipation.
"This is a token of my heart. Please return safely."
"Coming back safe isn’t enough. I’ll return with a fox to grace your neck."
Of course, these romantic exchanges rarely aligned perfectly. Most of the ti, the affection was one-sided, with feelings brushing past each other like mismatched arrows.
Knights pretended to inspect their bows but straightened up the mont they heard the rustle of skirts, their eyes following any lady who passed by. And when a lady walked by without stopping, they stared longingly at her retreating figure.
Are you all ducklings that just hatched? And do you hatch anew every ti a woman walks by?
anwhile, certain tents, such as Arthur Albion’s, attracted flocks of ladies vying for attention.
But, interestingly, the gifts didn’t pile up like one might expect.
One lady, holding a handkerchief, called out to Arthur.
"Your Grace, why do you refuse?"
"Because I cannot offer a gift worthy of your sentints in return."
"I’m not asking for anything in return! Just accept this handkerchief I embroidered—"
"There is nothing heavier than a heart that expects nothing in return. Please grant the grace of not disappointing you further."
After a prolonged back-and-forth, the lady spun around and stord off, her eyes red from frustration. Arthur’s impeccable refusal remained unyielding.
Beside , Maria let out a sigh filled with complicated emotions.
"Phew… Thanks for your advice earlier, Doris. There’s no way I could give my gift in this atmosphere."
"You’re welco. Use the ti until tonight to prepare yourself."
Arthur’s responses had beco smoother than they used to be. Clearly, he’d had plenty of practice rejecting confessions.
Though I knew he’d eventually accept Maria’s gift, the process would likely feel even heavier for her.
Honestly, just standing here feels overwhelming.
Around us, whispers from other ladies and their maids reached our ears.
"What if I hand him the gift while he’s replenishing water during the hunt? He wouldn’t be able to refuse then, would he?"
"Why not try at the evening banquet? The mood might soften him up."
Listening to them made my own nerves start to fray.
I turned to Maria.
"Shall we head back to our tent…?"
Wait—
The spot where Maria had been standing was now empty.
Where did she go?
Panicked, I scanned the area. Just as I caught a glimpse of the young maid’s skirt disappearing behind a tent, it hit : they were deliberately hiding.
Don’t tell …
"Looking for soone, Doris Redfield?"
…Not you, Tristan.
Of course, the Northern Duke’s camp had to be near the royal family’s.
I wasn’t ready for this.
"I asked what you are looking for."
His voice carried a strange tension, though it might’ve been my own nerves projecting.
Why are you here already? I haven’t even figured out how to deal with your gift yet!
"I, um, I ca out because it seed like the opening ceremony might start soon—"
"Then you’re free for now. Let’s take a walk."
"Huh? Aren’t you busy preparing for the ceremony?"
"I have ti to spare for my betrothed."
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