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As if the protagonist appears at the end, the stronger the lineage of a family, the later they tend to show up at any event.
By the time Lyna reached the forest, everyone except the princes had already arrived.
“Whoa, whoa.”
-Rumble.
Upon the groom’s coaxing, the carriage adorned with the Bolsheik family crest came to a halt, leaving those in attendance gasping in awe.
“Didn’t they say she wasn’t coming?”
“I heard the same thing.”
“Must’ve been a temporary whim.”
“Maybe… If Lady Bolsheik is coming…”
“Third Prince will definitely be attending.”
“If so, the First Prince will also attend.”
With the power struggle between the Third and First Prince, both contenders for the coveted position of Crown Prince, well-known to all, everyone nodded in unanimous agreement.
“By the way, have you heard the news?”
As a renowned gossipmonger notorious for loose lips began to speak, people’s ears perked up in anticipation, curious about the tidbits of information that would follow.
The gossiper, sporting a smug smile, made no attempt to conceal his satisfaction as he lowered his voice.
“I heard the only place Lady Bolsheik, who was in seclusion, visited was the palace.”
“Who doesn’t know that?”
As disappointment started to manifest on the faces of those who had anticipated something remarkable, the gossiper’s smile grew even wider, relishing in the reaction he had provoked.
“Did you also know that it wasn’t the palace of the Third Prince, but the palace of the Second Prince?”
No sooner had he sealed his lips shut, than people’s eyes widened to the verge of almost bursting, overwhelmed by what they had just heard.
“What?”
“What did you say?”
“The Second Prince?”
Taking pleasure in the hushed yet fervent reaction of the crowd, the gossiper parted his lips once more, ready to continue captivating his audience.
“Moreover, the person Lady Bolsheik, who refused to meet anyone, met was…”
“The Second Prince?”
With a subtle nod towards an eager individual who interjected, the gossiper incited a wave of murmurs among the crowd.
The topic of discussion centered around Bolsheik, who had severed ties with the Third Prince and was now engaged in interactions with the Second Prince.
Although hasty interpretations were cautioned against, the prevailing consensus seemed to be leaning in a particular direction.
“Is it really Bolsheik, after all?”
Amidst the ongoing gossip, Lady Bolsheik found herself at the epicenter, drawing the attention of all eyes upon her.
Meanwhile, Lyna, on the verge of stepping out of the carriage, prepared herself for the moment. In the past, she would have encountered difficulty disembarking due to the elaborate attire she would be adorned in. However, since her regression, she opted for a simple dress with minimal embellishments, alleviating any such hindrances.
Although this hunting competition served as an official announcement of her relationship with Ainar to the world, Lyna had made her intentions explicitly clear.
‘I have no interest in the imperial throne.’
Despite any potential interest in the throne, Lyna harbored no desire to wield its power. Hence, there was no need for extravagant attire. She had reached a mutual agreement with Ainar on this matter, eliminating the necessity for flamboyant dressing.
However, there were certain obligations that needed to be fulfilled. Consequently, Lyna arranged for a matching outfit to be sent to Ainar, a dress meticulously coordinated with her own. Even a casual observer could discern the coordination between their attires.
Unperturbed by the scorching sun, Becky handed Lyna a wide-brimmed hat. If Lyna had a servant accompanying her at such moments, they would be responsible for carrying a parasol and staying by her side. However, Becky had tasks to attend to today.
“Please go ahead, Miss.”
With a bow from the groom, Lyna nodded in acknowledgment before departing. Once the two had left, a sense of emptiness pervaded the vicinity, as the Bolsheik family’s surroundings appeared conspicuously vacant. Perplexed, the groom responsible for tending to the carriage tilted his head to the side, pondering the curious situation.
“Huh?”
Rubbing the corner of his eye, the groom muttered to himself, his steps guiding him to the opposite side of the carriage.
“It’s strange that the wheel isn’t broken.”
Inspecting the wheel meticulously, the groom found nothing out of the ordinary apart from the customary scratches.
Normally, Lyna’s carriage would have experienced a wheel breakdown or even suffered severe damage during the journey.
Surprisingly, neither Becky nor Lyna had noticed any minor failures, as the carriage had safely made its way from the Bolsheik mansion to the forest without incident.
And the fact that this had been the case since Lyna met Ainar…
While the groom puzzled over this, Lyna, paying no attention to those who eagerly sought her attention, entered the Bolsheik’s tent. She had made it explicitly clear that no one should approach her, leaving no room for anyone foolish enough to intrude and incur her displeasure.
“You’ve worked hard. Go take a break.”
Commending the efforts of those who had diligently arranged and organized a place for her to rest since dawn, Lyna dismissed everyone and settled into her chair, sinking deeply into its embrace.
“Becky.”
Lyna motioned towards Becky, who promptly inclined her head in acknowledgment before swiftly setting off with purposeful strides. Her immediate objective was to locate a conspicuously large man, a thug.
“Why can’t I see him?”
Despite her diligent search, Becky failed to catch a glimpse of the man she was seeking. Growing increasingly anxious, she hastened her pace, scouring through the ranks of servants and even blending into the gathering of hunters in her determined pursuit.
“What is she doing in a place like this?”
“Hey, it’s dangerous, go away.”
Observing Becky’s presence amidst the hunters, some individuals, noting her appearance that clearly deviated from that of a typical hunter, reacted with disapproval, uttering a disdainful word or two.
Nevertheless, Becky skillfully dispelled their wariness by offering them a warm and amicable smile.
“Sorry, sir. I’m looking for someone.”
As Becky, unmistakably resembling a servant from a noble family, addressed the hunters with respectful honorifics and directed her attentive gaze towards them, the initial confusion in the eyes of those nearby gradually gave way to a more at-ease expression.
“I can’t find him no matter how much I look…”
Observing Becky’s polite and somewhat troubled countenance, as she furrowed her eyebrows slightly, the hunters started to engage in casual conversation, gradually dropping their initial guard as if they had never been wary in the first place.
“What does he look like?”
“There’s no one who hasn’t arrived yet, so he must be around here.”
“There are many dangers around here, so come this way, let’s go together.”
Becky gestured with a wave of her hand to the hunter who had positioned himself to accompany her in the search.
“No, you must be busy. I’ll walk carefully. Thank you for listening to me.”
Commencing with a sincere apology and concluding with heartfelt gratitude, Becky’s words carried a persuasive charm that could soften anyone’s heart. As she wrapped up her statement, another hunter swiftly reached out, placing a firm hand on the shoulder of the one who was poised to venture forth once more.
“Alright, alright. It’s uncomfortable with rough guys, isn’t it? Then.”
Thus she went through the group of hunters.
“He’s really not here.”
Despite her diligent search, Becky was unable to locate the conspicuous figure that should have been easily noticeable. Pondering if she had overlooked a particular location, she retraced her steps, returning to the bustling area where the servants congregated. Methodically scanning every nook and cranny, Becky’s eyes suddenly widened in astonishment.
“I… found him.”
Becky was so ecstatic that she accidentally bit her tongue, practically tripping over herself in her haste.
It was like a prey willingly rushing towards its predator, thrilled at the sight of the blackmailer.
Certainly, it would have been a spectacle never seen before, but there were no witnesses to observe it.
“You were here.”
As Becky gave the towering figure a comforting pat and drew in a breath, the man she had touched swiveled his head to look at her.
“Hm?”
“Huh?”
The moment their gazes met, an uncomfortable silence descended upon the two individuals.
With a vacant expression fixed on Becky, the man inclined his head slightly.
“Did someone come looking for me?”
At the question of the man who was a complete stranger, Becky dropped her shoulders and shook her head.
“No… Sorry. I mistook you for someone else.”
She hadn’t anticipated encountering another individual of such formidable stature.
Having made a misstep, a confused Becky didn’t know how to proceed, so she promptly retreated to Lyna’s side.
The moment things took a wrong turn, it became imperative to communicate the development swiftly and strategize a response.
Hesitation to admit her failure could exacerbate the situation, but denial wouldn’t help resolve it either.
“Not there?”
“Yes.”
It was unlikely that Becky had misidentified the blackmailer, and her perception of him wasn’t vague or unclear.
“So he didn’t come despite getting the permit.”
“…Yes.”
Becky responded, her voice lacking confidence.
Understandably so, considering the permit had been obtained through manipulation of her secrets, leading him all the way to Bolsheik.
Although he hadn’t risked his life to get it, wouldn’t he make use of something he had expended significant effort to secure?
No matter how one considered it, it was illogical.
Lyna, sharing the same perplexity, cocked her head in thought.
“There is a possibility that he could show up late, so keep watching for now.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry about? What can you do for the guy who doesn’t show up.”
Lyna casually waved at Becky, who was hanging her head, then narrowed her eyes. The individuals who had been curiously watching her, awaiting her approach, suddenly redirected their attention towards the approaching sound of a carriage, mimicking the alertness of meerkats.
As the thunderous sound of horse hooves filled the air, the carriage bearing the royal crest that everyone had been waiting for finally pulled up. Not just one, but two simultaneously.
A smirk danced on Lyna’s lips at the sight.
“What a childish display,” she commented.
Without even needing to look, she could tell that the occupants of the two carriages were the First and Third Princes. The simultaneous arrival was likely due to a standoff, each vying to outlast the other and make a late entrance.
Although Lyna found the scenario childish, she understood the reality of it. In such a setting, losing even in trivial matters could be perceived as a sign of weakness, and therefore, it was unavoidable.
Indeed, contrary to Lyna’s dismissive remarks, the gaze of each family representative was sharp. Whether it was the First or Third Prince, the matter of who arrives last might seem insignificant. However, even losing in such a trivial issue held its own importance.
If one of the princes was significantly ahead in the race to the crown, such trivialities wouldn’t matter. But, given the evenly matched positions of the two princes, even the smallest details warranted scrutiny. A minor thing could potentially tip the balance.
“Certainly, it’s His Highness, the First Prince.”
“No, it’s His Highness, the Third Prince.”
The individuals eagerly waiting for the door of their favored prince’s carriage to open last fell into silence, as if someone’s words had doused their expectations like a bucket of cold water.