The Crown Princess, who had been secretly anxious after personally sabotaging the reparations negotiations, immediately agreed to the meeting.
Fully aware that she had already offended Edwin, her manner was more respectful than ever.
Thanks to her uncanny sense for reading the room, the atmosphere remained surprisingly cordial.
She hesitated only briefly when he suggested handing over the crown as compensation, but she accepted without much protest.
‘At least he makes sense,’ she thought in relief.
It was fortunate—for both her and Bellot—that she recognized this was Edwin’s final offer.
After all, Edwin lacked both the will and the inclination to propose any milder solution.
She merely asked for a short delay, citing the need for the king’s approval.
‘Fine by me,’ Edwin agreed, and the clouded expression on her face brightened—there was finally hope for a peaceful renegotiation.
Though she had once boldly stridden through the heart of an enemy warzone, laying down this burden eased her tension.
Realizing she had relaxed too much, her features tightened again as she spoke, looking a touch pale.
‘I’ll send envoys to oversee the imperial wedding once our court’s reply arrives,’ she said.
This was Bellot’s way of showing they were paying their own price by dispatching an official wedding proclamation.
‘Bellot’s king really knows how to let things slide,’ she mused inwardly, though she kept the remark to herself.
‘I heard he even broke off his first engagement for this state marriage,’ she reflected, pitying the princess forced to sacrifice her true love for the realm.
Edwin erased the image of Lina from his mind—he’d never be compelled into a marriage like hers.
‘Time to prepare on our end,’ he said, summoning Kyle to act as matchmaker.
Kyle entered carrying five profiles of potential suitors neatly laid out on a tray.
‘Please have a look,’ he said.
Her gaze flicked over the documents before returning to Kyle. ‘What’s all this?’
Surprised by the variety of choices, she eyed him curiously. Kyle’s practiced smile appeared as he explained, ‘Unlike Bellot, the Empire favors love matches.’
She let out a faint, ironic laugh. ‘I’m grateful for His Majesty’s kindness in considering even my personal tastes.’
She gave a slight bow, a wry smile still on her lips. Edwin returned the gesture with a gentle nod.
‘Excuse us for a moment,’ he said.
Intent on avoiding the worst outcome, the princess began examining each profile—more like choosing a gown for a grand ball than selecting a husband.
Her eyes passed swiftly over the first four until they paused on the final page—a candidate of humble birth but remarkable talent and presence.
‘Hmm?’ Kyle noted her focus. ‘Do you find Sir Everett Roxas appealing?’
She almost blurted out a protest, then caught herself—this was not the place for such candor. After a moment’s silence, she offered a plausible excuse: ‘I heard dark hair is rare in the Empire, so I was drawn to someone…unique.’
Kyle nodded smoothly: ‘Indeed, dark hair is uncommon across the Empire, though some eastern regions have more. Legends even speak of black-furred leopards as ancestral spirits there. Sir Roxas hails from that region.’
She only half-listened, her eyes drifting back to Edwin—first to his hair, then to his eyes.
When a messenger boy handed me a letter with no sender’s name, my heart skipped a beat—was this the thrill of a workplace romance?
‘Could it be from Everett?’ I wondered, but opening it left me stunned: ‘Kyle?’
Though I’d met him only regarding the Blue Falcon matter, this was our first contact since the rotten-beans incident.
His message was brief: ‘I’d like to see you about the Blue Falcon situation.’
Still vague, I replied at once: ‘I’ll know when I arrive.’
Since I planned to leave early today, the hours flew by as I wondered what the Blue Falcon matter could be.
When I stepped into the café at our meeting place, I was more than surprised—what was usually empty now had a steady stream of patrons.
‘You’ve come,’ Kyle greeted, his grin so wide I could scarcely see his eyes. I managed a startled greeting.
‘Please take a seat and wait a moment,’ he said, fully in café-owner mode—almost as if this were a promotional stunt.
‘Blue Falcon, huh? Probably not…’
I chose a corner out of sight. Kyle whispered something to a freckled girl with brown hair, then approached me.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Business has really picked up lately,’ he said proudly. Indeed, half the tables were now occupied—an impressive leap from before. Given the high rent and coffee costs, it likely still ran at a loss, but his delight was contagious.
‘It’ll be packed soon,’ I remarked politely. Kyle’s smile broadened as though I’d paid him the highest compliment.
Realizing his over-enthusiasm, he composed himself—though his high-risen cheeks betrayed him. Just then, the freckled girl delivered our drinks.
‘A special coffee prepared especially for my esteemed guest,’ she announced.
Kyle’s pride in the brew was obvious. I frowned slightly—my cup held real coffee whereas his contained only water.
‘Weird,’ I thought, but manners prevailed. Memories of two spoiled cups lingered, yet the aroma this time seemed genuine. I raised the cup, my hand trembling.
Taking a cautious sip…
‘Huh?’
