Chapter 30

“The princess who’ll be used and abandoned is quite pitiful.”

“...Is that so?”

Major Rodriguez spoke in his characteristically calm voice.

“It seems Brigadier General Massera is planning to benefit from the princess’s royal bloodline and then divorce her. Coincidentally, a marriage proposal came from the grand duchy’s princess, who’s a distant member of Medeia’s royal family.”

Brigadier General Steve noticed a slight change in the major’s gaze.

“There were rumors that the grand duchy’s princess still harbors feelings for the brigadier general. That must mean she wouldn’t mind if he remarried.”

The reason the brigadier general spoke this way was because sympathy and compassion could be the spark that ignites trouble.

Especially if hot-blooded young people were the firewood, there could be nothing better.

‘Whether it be a scandal or a matter of passion… I’ll make use of whatever I can.’

Your peaceful married life is over, Massera.

The brigadier general, who always felt inferior to Massera, smiled leisurely.

***

“Lady Cynthia, if you could narrow down the people to deliver the invitations to… Oh? Are you already done?”

Before Diego could finish explaining, she had already reviewed the invitation list.

Because, surprisingly, Cynthia had no one to invite.

‘I don’t even have a firefly’s worth of friends.’

Other than the invitation list sent by the Queensguard family, there was no one she could personally invite.

‘From now on, I need to make lots of friends.’

Cynthia had been miserable for about three seconds, then headed to the room of the number one person she wanted to get close to—Eugene.

After all, Massera was “someone she had to get close to in order to survive, but not necessarily someone she wanted to befriend.”

“Eugene, you promised to help me decorate the frog’s house.”

Cynthia cheerfully said this as she opened the door first and knocked afterward.

Eugene, who had been sitting at his desk reading, looked at the small fishbowl in her hand.

“I never made that promise.”

“Well, I did. You just didn’t hear it.”

Acting stubborn like a child, Cynthia held out the round fishbowl.

The fishbowl, filled with soil, aquarium decorations, pinecones, and small figurines, looked like a tiny garden.

“Pretty, right? The frog is asleep inside.”

Eugene pretended not to be interested, but his clear green eyes were fixed on the fishbowl.

“I’m also planning to make a house for the cats to keep them warm before it gets cold. You’ll help, right?”

“Do that with Uncle. Uncle likes cats.”

“He actually does?”

When he had suddenly disappeared on Helene’s wedding day, she had her suspicions—but it turned out he really was a cat's can opener.

TL/N: In the sense that he’d readily do things for a cat.

Cynthia briefly imagined herself building a cat house together with Massera.

She tried to imagine it in as friendly and cozy a mood as possible…

“Why are you asking me to build it with you? I’ll end up making it all myself anyway.”

In her imagination, he wasn’t just a can opener—he was a rude can opener.

Cynthia, with hazy eyes, erased the image from her mind and asked—

“Eugene, do you like books? I like books too. What are you reading right now?”

“A book my teacher gave me.”

Cynthia took a quick look at the book Eugene was reading.

It was about a family of rabbits competing to see who could find the biggest carrot, and there didn’t seem to be anything particularly problematic.

Then she spotted a book tucked into the bookshelf.

The Frost Queen

‘So that’s the book Eugene read and got scared of.’

“Hey.”

Eugene turned to Cynthia, who was lost in thought, and spoke to her.

“What is it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Eugene closed the book and spoke up.

“Why don’t you look like your family, noona?”

It was a sharp observation, as you’d expect from a child. She didn’t resemble them at all—neither in hair color nor eye color.

Everyone always just talked about how the Frost Queen had white features and red eyes, so Cynthia was slightly taken aback because this was the first time anyone had questioned it.

“Do you think I don’t look like them at all?”

Eugene pointed at the rabbit illustration with his finger and said—

“Your family looks like foxes, but you’re like the white rabbit in this book.”

“Really? I guess I must look a lot like my mother. It’s been so long, I don’t remember her well.”

At Cynthia’s words, Eugene made a sorrowful expression more suited to an adult.

“Do memories fade when you grow up? As time passed, my mother’s face kept fading, but I remember it again now.”

According to Dahlia, Eugene had been in the hospital of a duchy that had been devastated by a bombing.

Eugene, who had been smaller and younger back then, had to endure the sorrow of losing his parents and being left alone in the world—just like she had in her past life.

“How did you remember again?”

At Cynthia’s question, Eugene stared intently at her.

The boy’s eyes were filled with complex emotions. It was as if his gaze was reflecting someone.

“I don’t look like my mom. I wonder why.”

Instead of answering, Eugene asked a question.

Not knowing what to say, Cynthia awkwardly scratched her cheek.

“Maybe you’ll figure it out when you’re older? I’m sure part of why you’re so pretty is thanks to your mom.”

Eugene, who had been biting his lip, fiddled with the fishbowl on the desk.

Aside from the fact that they had died in a bombing, no one knew anything about Eugene’s parents.

‘Still, he must’ve been raised like a little lord.’

One could tell just by looking at Eugene’s pale, spotless hands.

She’d often seen parents who made their children work hard as soon as they could walk.

Cynthia, who was one of those children, looked down at her rough, scarred hands beneath her silk gloves.

Suddenly, Dahlia’s words came to mind.

“We tried to find any relatives, but he’d keep quiet every time we brought up his parents. We decided not to ask further, afraid of reopening old wounds or trauma.”

The fact that Eugene was now talking about his mother—perhaps it meant he’d opened his heart a little.

Thinking that, Cynthia handed Eugene the invitation she’d brought.

“Here, it’s a wedding invitation. You’re the first person I’m giving one to directly.”

The way Eugene glanced over the invitation and set it down made it obvious he was deliberately being grumpy.

But Cynthia paid it no mind.

“See the flower on it? This invitation is only given to special people.”

Eugene, who had been pretending not to care, now gazed at Cynthia intently.

‘Is she really a bad person? I don’t know anymore.’

The confused question kept ringing in the boy’s mind.

He couldn’t understand why everyone said people with white hair were bad.

Especially his tutor, Hayden, had warned him “not to be fooled by their kind smiles.”

He said that Cynthia would reveal her true colors once she married Massera and became the lady of the house.

‘Will she really kick me out?’

Eugene liked Cynthia’s warm smile but was also afraid of it.

“This child’s mother had white hair and blue eyes? We can’t take in a child like that.”

“If we keep treating him in this ward, who knows what could happen to us? My friend helped a runaway Esaht and got dragged off to a concentration camp.”

Eugene, left alone in the ruined duchy, had already experienced such things as he wandered from place to place.

Because of that, Eugene hadn’t even told Massera—whom he trusted and relied on most—about his mother.

“This invitation…”

Eugene opened his mouth slightly but closed it again, unable to get out the words of thankfulness that were caught in his throat.

“It’s ugly.”

In the end, he again said something he didn’t really mean.

“Huh? The invitation is ugly?”

Cynthia widened her eyes and looked over the invitation this way and that.

The young boy didn’t realize that the feeling that made him want to avoid Cynthia but also kept drawing him to her was longing.

***

Cynthia handed out special wedding invitations to the ladies of the duchy and the people at the residence.

She’d meant to give one directly to Major Rodriguez too, but since he had not visited the residence again, she had no choice but to send it to his address.

And time passed, until at last, the day of Cynthia and Massera’s wedding arrived.