Chapter 33
4. Playing with Fire on a Sweet Summer Night
Despite Irene’s repeated attempts to persuade her, Chloe refused to host a tea party.
It was the “bad outcome” the Duke of Whitmore had predicted.
As summer deepened, the oppressive heat settled over the capital. Even while turning the pages of a book, Irene found herself unconsciously fanning herself with one hand. Perhaps the heat was also why her eyelids kept growing heavy.
“Miss Irene, are you feeling unwell?”
“No. It’s just the heat.”
Smiling gently, Irene took a sip of iced tea.
Although this was far from her first summer in the capital, located in the kingdom’s central region, she never seemed able to grow accustomed to the heat.
Her thoughts drifted back to the days when she had wanted for nothing.
Her hometown, northeast of the capital, grew hot in summer as well, but never so unbearably hot that it felt difficult to breathe.
Sitting beneath the shade of towering old trees had been enough to make summer bearable.
The capital was different. By midday, even walking outside felt exhausting. The heavy humidity made the heat all the more oppressive.
She could hardly imagine how much worse the southern provinces must be. At this point, she found herself entertaining the utterly absurd thought that it had been fortunate the Duke of Whitmore had intercepted her at the train station.
“Looks like you don’t handle the heat very well.”
“That’s right. Heat gets to me much more than the cold. What about you, Miss Chloe?”
“The opposite. I hate winter.”
Chloe replied in her usual expressionless manner, as cool as the winter wind she claimed to dislike. Come to think of it, unlike Irene, who was drenched in sweat, Chloe seemed completely unaffected by the oppressive heat.
Just as Irene found herself admiring that resilience, Chloe checked the time and spoke.
“Starting tomorrow, come after sunset.”
“Oh, no, I’ll be fi—”
“You can’t concentrate like this.”
Those blue eyes turned toward Irene. Seeing eyes so strikingly similar to someone else’s, Irene found herself unable to refuse.
Before she knew it, she was nodding.
* * *
Unlike the cold, the summer heat spared no one. Not even the Crown Prince could escape the suffocating temperatures.
Throwing dignity aside, he stripped off his shirt and plunged without hesitation into the royal lake, a place accessible only to those with permission.
“Why is it so damn hot?”
After staying submerged until the water covered even the top of his head, the Crown Prince finally surfaced. The lake itself had grown lukewarm under the relentless sun, and his dissatisfied expression made it clear the water wasn’t nearly as refreshing as he’d hoped.
Still, it was better than being on land. Outside the lake, the world felt like a furnace.
But even in that oppressive heat, the Duke of Whitmore stood there with every button fastened all the way to his collar. It was enough to make anyone looking at him feel stifled.
“Aren’t you hot?”
“I am.”
“Get in then.”
His blond hair dripping wet, his upper body completely bare, the Crown Prince crooked a finger at him, having long since abandoned any concern for royal decorum. Dominic shook his head.
“I’ll pass. I can handle this much.”
“You can stand it? I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I’ve trained in the south during summer before.”
“You’re insane.”
The Crown Prince clicked his tongue in disbelief. Gracefully wiping away the beads of sweat gathering at the tip of his chin, Dominic replied.
“Well, so are Your Highness’s soldiers then.”
“Damn it. Can’t exactly argue with that.”
The Crown Prince ducked his head beneath the water once more before climbing back onto the lakeshore.
A waiting attendant hurried over with a large towel. Without so much as glancing at him, the Crown Prince dried himself off, then pulled out a cigar as the damp summer breeze drifted past.
“I’ve arranged a dinner with Baron Bertz’s daughter. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The Crown Prince slipped the thick cigar between his lips and narrowed his eyes at Dominic, who answered with such uncharacteristic obedience. He should’ve been this cooperative from the beginning.
The Crown Prince refrained from bringing up marriage prospects for about half a month as payment for losing their hunting wager. He had been planning to casually broach the subject again after another month or so, but to his surprise, the Duke of Whitmore approached him first.
‘I’d appreciate it if you could arrange a match for me.’
Frankly, he wasn’t entirely pleased with a man who changed his tune as easily as flipping a palm. The Crown Prince had even considered making him squirm a little before agreeing.
In the end, however, as the elder by two years, he magnanimously accepted the duke’s request.
The Duke of Whitmore was twenty-six this year. Ever since the epidemic that had swept across the kingdom, people had begun marrying younger than before, making the duke something of a late bachelor.
Even so, there was no shortage of noble families eager to secure him as a son-in-law. House Whitmore was one of the kingdom’s oldest and most distinguished ducal families, with wealth to match its prestige. Although he had an unmarried younger sister, all she would require was a suitable dowry. There was no risk of the family’s foundation being divided.
Moreover, while unofficial, it was widely known that the Duke of Whitmore had served in the military for five years, proving both his physical fitness and sound character. Add to that a face handsome enough to draw admiration wherever he went.
By every measure, he was an ideal husband. Had the duke not stubbornly delayed marriage himself, he likely would have had several children by now.
The Crown Prince spoke confidently.
“Meet her first. If she isn’t to your liking, just say so. I can introduce you to as many other young ladies as you’d like.”
Dominic merely stretched his lips into the semblance of a smile.
If his own stubbornness was beginning to tarnish Chloe’s reputation, then perhaps it was finally time to yield.
At that moment, the woman who was always lingering at his sister’s side suddenly crossed Dominic’s mind.
Come to think of it, she was a baron’s daughter as well, wasn’t she?
Aside from her prim and proper appearance, however, there was nothing remotely ladylike about her. Her plain manner of dress and her indecent, thoroughly antisocial way of thinking were worlds apart from what one expected of a noblewoman.
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