Winter Field Chapter 14

Rensley held his breath and gazed at the red light growing ever deeper, then slowly faced the Grand Duke again. The Grand Duke’s face, standing with his back to the sunset glow, became gradually more shadowed by the backlight.

The time without an answer grew too long. As Rensley quietly lowered his gaze, the Grand Duke at last continued speaking.

“Are you all right?”

Even if he was not, there was nothing to be done, and to be honest, he did not quite know what state he himself was in. Rensley barely managed to voice a reply.

“I am all right. My resolve remains unchanged, so please do not worry.”

“The sun is setting. When I return to my official duties, the auspicious day may already have been decided.”

“Yes. I will… wait quietly here.”

Whether the meaning—that he would no longer climb out the window to escape—was properly conveyed or not, the large frame that had been slightly inclined toward Rensley straightened up. Lifting the tray lightly with one hand, the Grand Duke once again left the bedroom without looking back.

Letting out a small sigh as though he had been holding his breath, Rensley stood vacantly staring outside for a while before moving his steps.

As evening came, the temperature dropped sharply. He draped the thick fur cloak that had been hanging beside the bed over himself and sat in the armchair by the fireplace. Come to think of it, when he had gone to the Grand Duke’s underground chamber with lunch, the Grand Duke had been sitting exactly like this before the hearth, reading a scroll.

Rensley, who had been staring at the blazing fireplace as if entranced, shifted his gaze to the clock placed beside it. Though there was no one who could read it, the delicately wrought thin metal rod silently kept its pace, rotating over the disc.

While the kitchens were making food from twenty years ago, the latest invention from the imperial capital was placed in the bedroom. Oldenland was as peculiar a country as its sovereign. And Rensley Malosen found himself in the helpless fate of having to become the strange Grand Duchess of this strange country, for the time being at least, though he did not know how long it would last.

He slid down in the chair, sinking his body until he was practically lying down.

The wedding date was not conveyed until after the sky had turned completely dark. Perhaps because the Grand Duke had grown busy, instead of coming himself, he sent someone up. Rensley covered his face with a veil and then permitted the person to open the door. It was Madam Samrit, the head lady-in-waiting.

Along with a note written in a neat hand saying, ‘She is someone who will absolutely never divulge anything, so employ her comfortably,’ the letter contained a short sentence informing him that the wedding date had been set for three days hence.

∞ ∞ ∞

Rensley opened his eyes in the early morning, before the sun had even risen.

In the north, the sun rose later and set earlier than in Cornia, and everyone moved about from when it was still dark. Unaccustomed to winter mornings, Rensley roused his body sluggishly. In just a few days, he had come to realize how difficult a task it was to emerge from the bedding that had been warmed to a cozy heat by body temperature.

The person quietly tidying clothes beside him smiled and greeted him.

“Did you sleep well, Rensley?”

“Yes…”

Swallowing a yawn that escaped without any tension and wiping the faintly welling tears, he returned the greeting.

“Madam Samrit, you’ve been hard at work since early.”

“You could sleep a little longer. I must have made too much noise.”

“No. I had to get up anyway.”

The garment Madam Samrit, the head lady-in-waiting, was attending to was a dress adorned with splendid decorations. A dress made unmistakably for someone of noble standing, where deep blue velvet and white silk ornamentation elegantly harmonized, and jewels and pearls were embellished upon the puffed sleeve hems and outer garment.

The wedding attire that the person to become the Grand Duchess of Oldenland would wear was laid out between the two of them.

“Rensley, have a bath first. I’ve had it prepared so you can do it in the bedroom.”

“Sorry. To put you to so much trouble.”

“What are you saying. Then I shall step out for a short while, so please call me when you are finished.”

The madam laughed benevolently and gave him his privacy. Originally, she was the one who would have personally washed every nook and cranny of the princess’s body, making her sleek, glossy, and fragrant. Having somehow ended up helping prepare a strange man with a male member dangling between his legs to be presented as Grand Duchess, it was clear that even the head lady-in-waiting, smiling so kindly, must in truth be lamenting inwardly.

Carrying a twinge of guilt, Rensley immersed his body in the wooden bathtub, which was small and deep compared to the stone bathtub in the bathhouse. It was his first time bathing the moment he woke, and it was quite pleasant. The hot water, the seeping scent of herbs, the moderately humid and warm air, the firewood crackling and sending up tiny sparks beside him. It seemed to have the effect of soothing nerves that had become especially sensitive at a time like now, with worrisome matters ahead.

It was something he had only heard last night, but Loudkhen was said to have facilities that drew water from a large hot spring nearby, so that not only the royal family and nobility but any resident of the castle could use hot water as much as they pleased.

He was familiar with the sea, rivers, and valleys, but a spring where hot water gushed forth on its own? Just like the ‘knife-wind,’ the hot spring, too, felt mysterious to Rensley, who had only ever encountered it through rumors or print.

Before the wedding day drew near, the Grand Duke had decided how to handle matters going forward. The people who knew Rensley’s identity were the two who would soon become a married couple, along with Madam Samrit the head lady-in-waiting, Larkov the head of the mage corps, and Anton Sorel the knight commander. Setting aside the high-ranking officials, he had limited it to trusted confidants whose direct cooperation was necessary.

At first, even those who had flustered about in bewilderment, upon hearing the circumstances, united in their intentions. When Rensley lamented his own plight with slight exaggeration to gain people’s sympathy, Madam Samrit the head lady-in-waiting had lamented, “How many things you must have been unable to speak of all this time,” and even showed tears. She, who had seemed merely an experienced and courteous lady-in-waiting when he first encountered her as Princess Yvette, was, contrary to first impressions, full of emotion.

Rensley asked just one thing of them. That while he stayed here, they would treat him comfortably, not serving him as Grand Duchess, nor even as a prince or noble.

The Grand Duke addressed him as ‘Prince Malosen,’ but Rensley found such titles and treatment ticklish. Even the servants of the Cornia royal family had all called him Rensley. He had attended upon others but had never ordered people around or had a personal servant. At this late point, he had no wish to act the master, something he had never done.

This noon, Gisel Siebendad would hold the wedding ceremony as scheduled with Princess Yvette of Cornia. While there was no law prohibiting marriage between those of the same sex, it was true that it was uncommon, surviving only as a historical case, and it was the consensus of everyone that, in a situation where they needed to observe the future course further, there was no need to reveal Rensley’s true appearance already.

Princess Yvette Elvanes had been sickly from birth, and moreover weakened by the long journey and the influence of the cold weather, she rarely managed to leave her bed. Thus, after holding the wedding, she would remain only in the Grand Duchess’s chambers as much as possible and not show herself before people. As the conspirators united their intentions, a princess was born who, were the real Yvette to hear of her, would burst into laughter asking who on earth that was.

Rensley Malosen was to drape a veil over his face and wear a dress just as he had when he first arrived at this castle. Except, not Cornia’s clothing, but Oldenland’s wedding attire.

Rensley submerged himself up to the crown of his head in the water just as he had then, and blew bubbles up. Puh-ha, after holding his breath briefly, he lifted his face out, and his eyes opened wide and his body became thoroughly warm.

Perhaps due to anxiety about the days ahead, his heart kept growing cold. He had to pull himself together. Rensley, who had forcibly heated his body and mind with hot water, dried his skin, donned a robe, and then pulled the cord beside the bed.

∞ ∞ ∞

“Good heavens.”

For a while now, Madam Samrit the head lady-in-waiting had been bursting into exclamations repeatedly. Rensley, for whom merely having to sit still and quiet in a chair was an ordeal, felt like the base of his tailbone would itch madly every time she let out an admiring cry. But Samrit’s admiration paid no heed to Rensley’s plight.

“It is simply too regrettable that I alone must behold this sight. Originally, the Grand Duchess’s bridal makeup and dressing is a grand affair that requires four or five ladies-in-waiting to attend to.”

“Indeed. I’m sorry you have to handle such arduous work alone…”

“That is not what I meant. I mean it is a shame that many people could not see this.”

Samrit swept a slender brush several times over Rensley’s lips as he muttered dejectedly, then stepped back a few paces, and once more let out a sigh akin to a groan. Inside the dress, Rensley’s toes twitched.