"Did I not give you ti to speak?"
As the carriage rolled along, Jenkins recalled the end of last night's banquet. He rembered it had ended very late. After seeing his father and brothers off in their carriage, he had escorted Miss Windsor to her mansion, then taken Hathaway and Briny back to their inn.
"I originally had sothing to tell you, but I didn't expect you to leave so quickly..."
She regarded Jenkins with a complicated expression.
"Should I congratulate you? On your bloodline."
"There's nothing to congratulate for. Besides... you must have known for so ti, haven't you?"
Miss Windsor didn't deny it. She raised her glass and took a large swallow.
"You're a good person."
The comnt made Jenkins a little uncomfortable, so he pulled the soft cat into his arms. It let out a ow of contentnt.
"There are so things I don't want to hide from you. A person like you shouldn't be deceived and used. From the first ti I t you, I knew you were an upright and kind man. You shouldn't be forced into a conspiracy like this."
She chose her words carefully, considering the consequences of her actions. She did not regret this.
"Although Her Majesty the Queen has acknowledged your family's connection to the royal line... in truth, she is only using you. She never intended to give the throne to any Williams."
It wasn't a lie. In fact, it aligned closely with Jenkins's own observations and suspicions; he had long sensed sothing was off about Queen Isabella's attitude. He nodded, showing he understood. Seeing his placid expression, Miss Windsor asked again:
"You believe that easily?"
"Everything you've said is the truth. Why wouldn't I believe you?"
And that, too, was the truth from Jenkins.
Miss Windsor bit her lip. She had thought it would take a great deal of effort to earn his trust, especially since all signs pointed to the Queen's favor toward his family. His ready acceptance seed to confirm that he was indeed the kind, trusting person she believed him to be—soone who should not be deceived and used.
"Though I've practically grown up by Her Majesty's side, there are tis when even I fear her. The elderly have the wisdom of their years, but that wisdom can sotis mix with paranoia and conspiracy in ways we young people can't even imagine. Her Majesty... I shouldn't speak ill of her, she has always treated well, but Jenkins, you must be careful. She truly intends to use you."
"How interesting. Then who is Her Majesty's true choice for the throne?"
Jenkins asked, placing the cat on his lap. He then leaned back slightly, so that his body from the chest up fell into the shadows beyond the carriage lamp's glow. The movent suddenly gave him a strange quality. Miss Windsor felt a sudden tightness in her chest, as if the man before her had beco imnse, distorted—but when she blinked, he seed utterly trustworthy.
"Strictly speaking, Her Majesty is not a mber of the Middleton family, though the public and popular opinion tend to overlook that fact. She only married into the royal family, and it was for various reasons that she was able to inherit the throne after the last king died. You should know this. The Windsor family are close relatives of the Queen's paternal line. We have deep family ties, which is why I was able to grow up by her side. Jenkins, you must be aware that the family Her Majesty was born into still has several n, a little older than you, who are already active in politics..."
She didn't need to say more; Jenkins understood her aning. Intermarriage among the nobility was exceedingly common. Queen Isabella's maternal family was also of the high nobility, and they too had married into the Middleton family in the past, thus giving them a certain claim to the succession.
Miss Windsor's reminder jogged Jenkins's mory. He recalled a casual conversation with Pontiff IV about the kingdom's current heirs, where this very topic had co up. He hadn't been paying much attention at the ti, however, and couldn't rember the nas of the n in question.
After all, in Jenkins's eyes, they were no different from stray animals on the street—creatures he might have heard of or even seen, but felt no need to know.
"How interesting."
he murmured. Miss Windsor's words had answered a question that had long been nagging at him. He knew crowns didn't just fall from the sky; there was always a reason for everything.
"Her Majesty won't necessarily make your family disappear to pave the way for soone else, but it's easy to imagine that pushing your family into the spotlight is a way to conceal the people waiting in the wings."
Miss Windsor's voice fell, laced with dejection. She, too, was one of those pushed to the forefront. Before the Williams family entered the picture, she had been the most ideal heir to the throne. Even after Jenkins appeared, she was still being deliberately matched with him. The goal was to have them stand together, a shield to hide Queen Isabella's true choice.
"Your religious background ans that if she ever wants to discard you, she can easily stir up the public and the nobility by invoking the High Tower Accord. People are always sensitive about the church interfering in secular power. As for ... I'm a woman, after all. The Fidektri Kingdom has never had two consecutive queens. And while everyone talks about equality now, that kind of prejudice isn't sothing that can be erased in a single generation."
Her fingers, clenched around the glass, had turned white from the pressure. She finished speaking with her head bowed, then looked up to see that Jenkins's face, once hidden in shadow, had returned to the light.
"How very interesting."
he repeated.
"I knew the change of a monarch wouldn't be so simple. I've been wondering about this for a long ti, and now I finally understand. This... this is truly interesting."
"Just interesting? Don't you see the danger?"
An inexplicable anger surged through Miss Windsor. Perhaps it was because she had hesitated for so long before finally resolving to tell him all this, only for him to seemingly miss the gravity of her warning.
"It is dangerous, but it's also an opportunity."
He sat up perfectly straight, his entire body bathed in light.
"You know, I originally didn't care who that throne belonged to. Although my... friend told I needed to claim it, I was still hesitating. But now that I know soone wants to use , to use my family... I think it's ti to make up my mind."
The cat tilted its head back and let out a soft "ow~," its little pink nose pointing upward as if in celebration. Jenkins's eyes seed to be glowing. He had indeed been hesitating, but in truth, he had been leaning this way for a while. The final push was rely a childish impulse—the kind of feeling that says, 'I can choose not to take it, but you're not allowed to deny it to .' In any case, the decision was made. The reason was unimportant.
"We'll see about this."
"What are you going to do?"
Miss Windsor asked, her expression puzzled, but Jenkins simply shook his head. He finally understood why Papa Oliver and the Church had never been very enthusiastic about his succeeding the throne. They must have foreseen this situation all along, waiting for him to either discover the truth himself or hear it from them. Once he had, everything would fall into place naturally.
"I really am an immature young man. To get involved in a royal dispute and expect to walk away unscathed without doing anything... that was never possible."
He chided himself.
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