Following Lyna’s unilateral breakup and their encounter at the temple, Smith persistently sent letters imploring her to meet him.
Within these letters, he extensively articulated his thoughts about Lyna and how crucial she was to his future.
“Not at all?”
“Yes. N-no…”
“Ugh, ahhhh! Lyna! Lyna, Lyna!”
As the aide began to speak, Smith’s anger got the better of him, and he erupted in a fit of rage.
However, he made sure not to break anything or touch the aide to avoid leaving any evidence.
Smith paced around the room in a fit of anger, shouting as he fixed his gaze on the visible sentence from Bolsheik.
“I can’t keep getting dragged like this.”
He knew that he had been the one holding the reins in his relationship with Lyna.
Smith was not willing to relinquish the sweet taste of power he had experienced while in control of Lyna, or rather Bolsheik. The throne shimmered in front of him just as it had yesterday, and he was determined not to let it crumble.
Although he had achieved his position through means other than his own abilities, he couldn’t forget the intense satisfaction he had felt when he held it in his hand.
“And in the Viscount’s family…”
“It’s done. No need to check.”
Investigating the movements of the families who had promised support after his engagement with Lyna was unnecessary since they would not abandon him as long as Lyna returned to him.
Smith instructed his aide, “Bring me the documents that list the things Lyna likes and the ones that list her weaknesses.”
As Smith threw a fit upon receiving the document stating that the Bolsheiks would take everything, Ainar sat up and tapped his chin, deep in thought.
“I see no point in going if there’s no one to participate,” he remarked.
Sensitive to the word “participation,” the aide asked, “I beg your pardon, your Highness?”
“I was referring to the hunting competition. If Lady Bolsheik isn’t there, then there’s no point in participating…”
“I’ll send a letter immediately.”
The aide began writing a letter with a stern expression, interrupting the words of the prince he was serving.
Observing the aide’s flamboyant pen strokes, Ainar asked, “Is there a reason why you’re taking the hunting competition so seriously? Is there a secret I don’t know?”
Observing the typically stoic and reserved aide moving with such vigor would surprise anyone.
Although Ainar did not anticipate an extraordinary response, he was still impressed as the aide continued to write without pause and looked up at him.
However, his smile faded as soon as he heard the response.
“Your Highness wishes to do something. It may be an opportunity that may not come again, so I want to put forth my maximum effort, time, and passion.”
In contrast to Smith or the First Prince, who frequently rotated their aides, Ainar had retained the same aide since his initial appointment.
As Ainar’s interest in the throne diminished, there was no need to question or assess the aide’s capabilities.
Nevertheless, the aide consistently exceeded Ainar’s expectations. He had been present during Ainar’s prodigious displays of talent as a child, astonishing scholars from every field, and continued to support him to this day.
“Your Highness, you’re quitting.”
“Hmm? Yes.”
The aide remained by Ainar’s side, even during times when he would abruptly lose interest and abandon things he was doing.
The aide continued to offer support, even when it would take no more than two days for Ainar to become disinterested in something.
“Your Highness? You’re bored…”
“Yeah. I got bored. So, I’m going to stop.”
The aide had been by Ainar’s side for the longest period, surpassing even the tenure of the ministers. The aide had witnessed Ainar’s brilliance up close and never missed a moment when that brilliance faded.
There were moments when the light would flicker back briefly, but it was a fleeting occurrence.
As Ainar’s eyes began to shine once more with its original radiance, only the aide knew the emotions stirring within them.
The aide’s pen, which had seemed like it would never cease moving, finally came to an abrupt stop.
“I hope Lady Bolsheik changes her mind.”
Ainar quickly perused the letter presented to him by the aide, which detailed the reasons why Lady Bolsheik should participate in the hunting competition.
“Do you believe this will be effective?”
“As long as it bears the seal of His Highness the Prince, I believe it will,” the aide replied.
“Hmm.”
Ainar flashed a mischievous grin and provided a vague response before neatly folding the letter and tucking it away in his pocket.
“I believe it would be more effective if I were to go by myself, without using the seal.”
The aide consistently responded the same way whenever Ainar spontaneously mentioned leaving the palace.
– You still have unfinished tasks for today. Please ensure that you complete them before leaving.
“Very well,”
“Okay, I’ll finish everything, and then…wait, did you just tell me I can go?”
“Yes. But you must obtain Lady Bolsheik’s consent to participate in the competition before returning,” the aide instructed with a serious expression.
After momentarily blinking, Ainar stifled a chuckle and nodded in agreement.
“Understood. I’ll be back.”
With those words, Ainar vanished from sight. The aide, who watched his empty seat, couldn’t help but smile widely.
After all, Ainar had never failed to follow through on something he promised to do.
Ainar soon found himself face-to-face with Lyna.
After breaking off her engagement with Smith, Lyna declined all invitations and visitors to her mansion. However, she had made an exception for Ainar, which inevitably would spark interest from those who had been monitoring her movements.
“Thank you for the warm welcome. It’s sure to catch everyone’s attention,” Ainar remarked with a grin.
Lyna responded casually, “I apologize for not being able to do more for you, your Highness.”
“Will you be able to do more next time?”
“If you make an appointment and come,”
Ainar placed his hands over his chest, feeling the gravity behind Lyna’s words. “It’s an urgent matter,” he revealed.
“An urgent matter?”
“I heard that you won’t be able to participate in the hunting competition.”
Ainar was about to present the paper with the multitude of reasons his aide had written when Lyna surprised him with an unexpected response.
“I will participate,”
Ainar was taken aback by her sudden change of heart. “You will participate?” he repeated in disbelief.
“Yes, I have changed my mind,”
“That’s great news. May I ask why?”
“There isn’t any grand reason, really.”
“That’s okay. I’m just curious about what led you to change your mind,” Ainar responded with sincerity.
Lyna found herself holding her breath in response to Ainar’s genuine inquiry.
When Lyna needed a break from their time together, Smith had always uttered similar words in a sorrowful tone, as if it were a regrettable situation. “I will tell you what can change your mind.”
At the time, Lyna had known it was a lie, but she was so overjoyed that she didn’t know how to respond.
Lyna felt uneasy and uncomfortable despite Ainar’s genuine sincerity.
“Emma… no, there’s a servant named Becky…”
For reasons she could not even understand, Lyna told Ainar about what happened with Becky.
Maybe it was just pure hope, if Ainar intervened in this matter, could he turn her misfortune around and get a good result for everyone? Or maybe it was twisted jealousy.
Even if Ainar had a hand in this matter, she would not be able to overcome her misfortune and would suffer a more terrible fate than before returning.
“……So I decided to participate in the hunting competition.”
Ainar had been observing Lyna intently while she recounted the incident, and he proceeded to inquire, “What purpose does the blackmailer have for a permit?”
“I’m not sure,” Lyna replied.
“Isn’t it possible that the motive behind the threat is the same as Becky’s use of the name Emma?” Ainar probed further.
Lyna promptly replied to his question, saying, “I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to get too involved.”
Ainar couldn’t help but wonder why Lyna had refrained from asking such an obvious question, but he held back from commenting on it. He understood that both he and Lyna were not ordinary individuals.
Lyna elaborated on her reasoning, saying, “I have a feeling things could get worse if I delve too deeply. Because I regressed, I can at least anticipate the extent of the damage. But… Your Highness, you’re standing too close.”
She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone while gazing up at Ainar, who had come dangerously close to her.
Ainar had ensnared Lyna in his embrace by gripping the sofa’s armrests with both hands. He leaned in close, causing his breath to brush against her skin as he whispered, “I wasn’t by your side before regression.”
As Ainar whispered as if revealing a profound secret, Lyna simply chuckled. Her laughter was a blend of happiness, amusement, and perhaps even contempt, but it had erupted spontaneously, without her realizing it. This was a new experience for Lyna, one that she had never felt before meeting Ainar.
“That’s the way it should be,” Ainar declared, as he leaned his forehead against Lyna’s.
“I promised you that I will shield you from any misfortunes that your bad luck may bring, no matter how dire the situation may seem.”