#10. At the End of the Season (6)

The Lily Palace, home to Dominique Aira Galatea, the First Princess of the Galatea Empire, stood at the farthest, most secluded edge of the vast and splendid Imperial Palace.

Even at a man’s pace, it took forty minutes to reach from the entrance to the Imperial Palace. The princess’s Lily Palace was also a ten-minute walk from the nearest detached palace, as if its location had been chosen to keep people away.

Of course, it hadn’t been built for that purpose.

Back when the Galatea Empire was still a kingdom, the palace had played a fairly important role as the residence of the queens, its beautiful name—Lily Palace—befitting it well.

But as the kingdom became an empire and its territory grew larger and larger, the Imperial Palace expanded along with it. Before long, the Lily Palace had been pushed to the outskirts, and its purpose gradually changed.

It became a place to bring the things the Imperial Family didn’t want seen and hide them away.

Some hid their dull-witted children there.

Others kept an estranged empress or empress dowager out of sight.

And one man, blinded by his lust for women, would sometimes hide his mistresses in the Lily Palace.

It was to this Lily Palace that Dominique Aira Galatea, the most exalted woman in the Empire, had walked of her own accord.

The capital’s gossips would sometimes share their own theories over drinks as to why she had done so.

Some thought she was trying to build up a faction of her own, away from the empress’s eyes, in preparation for the selection of the next heir.

Others thought she simply couldn’t stand watching the new empress throw her weight around in the Imperial Palace.

There were also rumors that it was an act of defiance against her father, who had let her mother die all alone.

But no clear answer ever emerged.

In part, that was because Dominique was meticulous in every way.

And it was also because anyone audacious enough to pry into the Imperial Family’s private affairs had already been killed by the emperor’s hand.

One thing, however, was certain: the current emperor preferred his son to his daughter.

The empress, who had married into the family from a small vassal state in the eastern part of the continent, had grown frail in the unfamiliar land while carrying her precious child.

And aside from sharing her bed once a month, the emperor never so much as looked at the empress who had borne him a daughter.

Rumors even circulated that the emperor had something to do with the empress’s death.

#.

Despite its ill repute, the Lily Palace, tucked away in the most remote corner of the Imperial Palace, was the most splendid and beautiful of its many detached palaces.

Though its location discouraged people from approaching, the gardens to the east, south, and west of the palace were each planted with different flowers, so blossoms in full bloom welcomed visitors warmly in every season.

In the middle of one such garden, where the spring flowers had reached their brilliant peak and the pure white lilies beside them were just beginning to bud, Eleonore and Dominique sat sipping tea with graceful poise.

“So, are you feeling all right, Eli?”

Dominique’s voice was filled with concern. Even in the golden eyes facing her, Eleonore sensed a hint of guilt.

Eleonore gave a small sigh at the sight of Dominique.

Eugenie, too. Viola, too.

Honestly… none of them needed to worry this much.

As she tenderly embraced the warmth swelling in her heart, Eleonore gently lifted the corners of her pink lips toward Dominique.

“Yes, Domi. Thanks to your concern, I’ve healed completely. The priest who visited the mansion said the scar will disappear without a trace, too.”

“That’s a relief. Truly. Haa… If only I’d brought Dmitri along with me that day. Then he would’ve been by your side, Eli.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like that. Dmitri isn’t mine, to begin with.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Dominique’s golden eyes gleamed.

Until recently, Eleonore had called him “Your Grace, the Grand Duke,” a rather distant, formal title. And now she was calling him Dmitri—not Verbritz, but Dmitri.

“Hmm. You’re on pretty familiar terms now, aren’t you? Calling him Dmitri?”

And here she’d been looking so apologetic just moments ago.

As though she were a predator eyeing its prey, Dominique licked her lips as she watched Eleonore’s face begin to turn red.

“N-No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, Dmitri held you so tenderly in his arms and rescued you. Even a woman made of stone would feel something stirring.”

Laughing brightly, Dominique gave the back of Eleonore’s hand a playful smack. Eleonore’s face turned red as she narrowed her eyes at Dominique.

“Honestly… That’s really not it. Don’t tease me, Domi!”

“I’m not teasing!”

Dominique had been getting carried away like a mischievous little child, but her expression changed again in an instant.

With a rather serious look, she reached over and placed her hand atop Eleonore’s, which was wrapped around her teacup.

“Eli. Dmitri may seem a little airheaded, but he’s a thoughtful man. Seeing how fiercely he cares for his little sister, I’m sure he’ll treat you well, too.”

At Dominique’s solemn voice and the words she’d spoken, Eleonore shuddered and dared to lift the princess’s hand from the back of her own.

“Oh, honestly! Domi! Dmitri and I really aren’t like that!”

“Oh, please. It’s obvious at a glance.”

Dominique leaned in close to Eleonore. Catching the fresh citrus scent of her perfume, Eleonore swallowed hard.

“Eli. Do you really have no feelings for Dmitri?”

A long silence settled over the lavish tea spread laid out on the white tablecloth. Eleonore kept her lips tightly shut, not daring to answer the princess’s question.

But the way she bowed her head and blushed was as good as an answer.

“I see. So that’s how it is. In that case, I’ll have to give Dmitri a few pointers, too. Our adorable Eli is shyer than other women, so he’ll need to show her affection persistently.”

“Reaaally. That’s not it at aaal…”

“Oh, why are you so cute, Eli? How did such an adorable creature come from the Margrave and Marchioness of Béarn, honestly!”

Dominique had drawn her chair close beside Eleonore and was now prodding her reddened cheek with a fingertip.

“What about you, Domi? Is there no man you like?”

“Me?”

Though Eleonore had tried hard to come up with a question as a counterattack, Dominique looked thoroughly unimpressed by it.

“Hmm… I don’t know. There isn’t anyone I’m particularly drawn to. Besides, I haven’t seen a single man bold enough to hit on a princess in all my life.”

Bringing her teacup to her lips without much thought, Dominique continued.

“And besides, no matter what, my marriage isn’t something I can decide for myself.”

There was a hint of bitterness in Dominique’s voice as she went on.

“If I inherit the throne, I’ll have to bring in a son-in-law from a neighboring vassal state. And if that halfwit takes the throne from me, I’ll be married off to that vassal state.”

#.

Inside the carriage on the way back to the mansion.

The carriage was bathed in red by the sunset pouring in through the windows.

Unlike last time, Dominique had set aside time for her today and wasn’t willing to let Eleonore leave so easily.

Eleonore didn’t dislike talking with Dominique, either, so she stayed by her side for a long while, laughing and chatting about this and that.

Most of their conversation was about the upcoming Founding Festival.

They talked about what dresses to wear on the night of the festival, how Eli looked prettier with her shoulders bare, and how masculine clothes suited Domi better than one might expect.

Remembering their earlier conversation, Eleonore let a faint smile cross her face.

Honestly, I never thought I’d have such a lively conversation with a woman. About dresses and clothes, and jewelry, of all things.

Eleonore tucked away her smile and glanced at the ivory-haired young lady sitting beside her.

For some reason, the seat beside her was suspiciously quiet today.

Eugenie, who would usually have asked, “What are you finding so amusing?” was nodding her head up and down when Eleonore turned to check on her.

Eugenie must be tired, too.

Eleonore gently eased Eugenie’s repeatedly nodding head onto her shoulder. The elegant scent of lilies from Eugenie’s perfume enveloped her, but it had become a familiar fragrance by now.

Eleonore carefully studied Eugenie’s face as she slept with her eyes closed.

Her eyes gently shut, Eugenie slept with soft, even breaths. Her flawless face looked much younger than usual.

Both she and Eugenie had just turned eighteen. In the world she came from, that was an age closer to girlhood than womanhood. She wasn’t even old enough to buy alcohol on her own yet.

And at the sight of her, Eleonore’s heart began to thump for some reason.

Eleonore gently placed a hand over her chest.

It was strange.

This flutter was a little different from anything she’d felt before. It was nothing like the flutter she felt for the opposite sex—for Dmitri and Julian.

When she felt that kind of flutter toward them, she couldn’t even meet their eyes. But now, she could look at Eugenie’s face with complete ease.

That this flutter was none other than the mysterious feeling of maternal love was something Eleonore, with a man’s sense of self still lingering in her mind, couldn’t quite understand yet.