Chapter 249
“Once my revenge is complete, I won’t have any reason to stay with the Inverness family anymore… I figured I’d have to find my own way in the world. Back when I was just a well-behaved noble lady, I could sit still and people would bring me food—but that’s not the case for Bella Appenz now.”
She doesn’t sound resentful in her calm voice. She had accepted her life as a commoner for what it was and simply tried to do what she could within that reality.
“Haa…”
But Balak took it differently. What he felt was shame, regret, and embarrassment. It was like watching a child he should have protected worrying aloud about how to make ends meet.
If only I’d found you a little sooner.
Or better yet, if only I’d never lost you in the first place. If only I’d managed to bring your father down just a bit faster.
It was all pointless speculation, but the pain remained. His clenched fists trembled with suppressed anger, and just as it threatened to spill over, a familiar hand stopped him.
“That’s enough.”
A weathered hand, still marked with old scars, gently patted his shoulder. Sebelia stood up to greet its owner. Beneath a pressed hat, a few strands of white hair peeked out.
“Your Highness.”
“Oh, never mind that. Right now, I’m just a starving artist hoping to mooch a meal off a friend—I’m down to my last penny.”
Prince Shateian joked, settling in with easy confidence. He shooed away Ludmil, who was hovering uncertainly, and promptly stole Balak’s teacup.
“This smells wonderful. Doesn’t seem like your usual taste, though.”
“Oh, the Duke’s family sent that flower tea. If you like it, I can arrange for you to get some at the palace…”
“Now, now, you don’t have to try so hard. Miss Bella, you really don’t need to worry so much. Even if you weren’t making all this effort, the Imperial Security Bureau isn’t about to let Nathan Wheddon off easy.”
He swirled the teacup, gazing at the floating blossoms before suddenly glancing up with a piercing stare that made Balak frown.
“What? If you have something to say, spit it out.”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. I’ve known you for years, but I’ve never seen you looking this healthy. It’s honestly strange—maybe your own father won’t recognize you when you go back home?”
“….”
Balak was still thinking of a retort when Sebelia gently steered the conversation elsewhere.
“You look very well, Your Highness. Did you say you’re an artist today? Is that your usual cover when you sneak out?”
“That’s right. Being stuck in the palace makes me long for the outside world. Have you ever been to the Marlen District, Miss Bella? There’s a new bakery there—it just opened. Maybe it’s because it’s a southern chain, but there were a lot of things I’d never seen before.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
Sebelia joined the conversation, her eyes sparkling. But then, she felt a strange sense of unease. Why did this feel odd? Thinking it over, she found her answer. Plain clothes, a secret outing, the Marlen District… and in her mind, Dehart’s face flickered past.
Why would a prince bother sneaking out just to see a bakery?
Sebelia silently clicked her tongue. Shateian’s deftness had nearly swept her up. He offered just enough information to be plausible, but hid his true intentions. She was reminded again that he was not someone to be underestimated.
Shateian Belkram, the Second Prince. He had survived to this day entirely on his own after losing his mother, the Empress, at a young age.
Unlike Dillion, who had powerful maternal relatives, Shateian’s mother’s family could offer him nothing. Or more accurately, they simply weren’t able to.
His mother was a princess from a kingdom across the sea. It must have made it easier for the First Queen to keep her in check.
Sebelia glanced at the scars on his hand, thinking about the hardships he must have endured. And she wondered why he’d go to such lengths—dressing as an artist, sneaking through the city, visiting bakeries.
The answer didn’t come easily. Even on her way home to the Inverness estate after parting ways with Balak, she kept having the question. Unexpectedly, the answer presented itself.
“What’s this?”
“I picked these up from the new bakery that just opened today. There were so many things I’d never seen, so I just bought a bit of everything.”
Dehart set down a large bag, filling the room with a delicious, sweet aroma. Sebelia blinked in surprise when she saw the bakery’s logo on the bag.
It was the very bakery Shateian had mentioned earlier—the one that had started in the south. Amazed at the coincidence, Sebelia reached for the bag.
Just then, Claude, who was hefting another bag almost as big as Dehart himself, grumbled.
“The crowd was so thick I thought I’d end up as bread dough myself. Dehart couldn’t have picked a busier day.”
“Did something happen?”
Dehart frowned briefly before answering.
“The third prince, who’d left the capital, just returned today. Not sure why, but he stopped by the Marlen District first.”
“I see…”
It was no accident that Shateian had come to mind just then.
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