021

“Your name is Sarang, right?” A soft, gentle voice broke through the quiet.

Sarang turned to find Lysandra standing behind him, her cheeks flushed and temper mellow.

“Your–”

“No need for that.” Lysandra interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him from bowing. “I’m a guest here. Please, be at ease.”

Sarang hesitated, then straightened. “Is there anything you need, Your Highness? The young master isn’t home.”

“I know. It is not Prince Nathaniel I’m looking for. It’s you.”

“Me?” Sarang echoed, blinking in surprise.

“Yes, you.” Lysandra stepped closer, her expression sincere. “I apologise for how I behaved when we first met. It was unladylike, and I hope you can forgive me so we can start anew.”

“You do not have to apologise or seek my forgiveness.” Sarang replied politely. “You’ve never wronged me, Your Highness.”

“I should. You are Prince Nathaniel’s childhood friend and closest companion. Uncle Lucian said you grew up together, so you’re practically family.”

“I suppose so.” Sarang replied with a polite smile.

“You play excellently well. I’ve never taken much interest in the game before, but now I’d love to play against you someday.”

“I should warn you—I’m not an easy opponent. I have been playing since I was nine.”

“Maybe card games.”

They laughed lightly, the tension between them easing as they turned their attention to the pond, where ducklings trailed behind their mother in a charming queue.

They laughed and watched the ducklings chasing after their mother to the pond.

“What is Prince Nathaniel like?” Lysandra asked suddenly, her voice quieter, more personal.

Sarang measured his response carefully. “The young master is intelligent, hardworking, strong, and steadfast in his will. He’s an excellent conversationalist and much more.”

“I didn’t mean a report,” Lysandra said with a soft chuckle, leaning closer. “I mean as a person. What does he like? Does he have any friends besides you? Is he… seeing anyone?”

“I am sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot share anything about the young master’s personal life. I hope you can understand.”

Lysandra frowned, crossing her arm in disappointment. “I understand. The truth is… I think he dislikes me. No matter what I say, wear, or do, I seem to be lacking. I hoped you might offer some advice to catch his interest—besides chess.” She hesitated before adding, “I like him very much and desire for him to choose me as his bride. So far, I am no different from the other potential candidates.”

“The other potential candidates?” Sarang asked, puzzled. “What candidates?”

Lysandra froze, her hand flying to her mouth. “Have I said too much?”

“No. Please tell me, Your Highness.”

Reluctantly, she lowered her hand. “It was in yesterday’s papers. Prince Nathaniel was official declared the most eligible bachelor of the season, and it said he’s interested in marriage. I thought you knew.”

Sarang’s breath caught as her words sank in. The paper Nathaniel had carelessly tossed in the stables flashed in his mind. They had promised not to keep secrets from each other—yet Nathaniel had hidden something this important.

Why? For what? Sarang thought, his fists clenching so tightly they trembled. Why is he fighting this alone?

“Pardon me, Your Highness, I must return to my work. Be safe on your return and I’ll put in good words of you.” He said abruptly, bowing low.

Before Lysandra could respond, Sarang turned and strode away, leaving her beaming with newfound hope.

Sarang stomped into the common quarters, startling the servants there. “I need all the papers from yesterday.”

All the servants glanced at one another. The servants exchanged uneasy glances.

“They’ve been disposed.”

“Is there not one I can get in this house?” Sarang asked, frustrated.

“If it had not been incinerated this morning.”

“The stables.” Sarang muttered before sprinting off, leaving behind a room full of whispering servants who clearly knew the paper’s contents.

Arriving at the stables, Sarang hurried to the waste bin outside and spotted the crumpled newspaper inside. He snatched it out, smoothing the papers until his eyes found the article he dreaded.

He sank onto a nearby bench and began to read.