Chapter 50. Eyes Like Grape-Flavored Candy

2023.11.19.

Objects suggesting human habitation began to appear, one by one, in the courtyard of the west wing annex.

First came a new rocking chair.

After placing a temporary table under the large parasol brought out from storage, a comfortable space had formed—just enough for Clade to rest alone.

“Are you the only one working in this mansion?”

“Your Highness, maintaining and cleaning such a vast estate would require ten bodies, not one. Poor servants can’t possibly attend to everything here.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“…I told you, Your Highness—it’s a gift. Isn’t it natural for the giver to care?”

“Everything here originally belonged to me. Can you really call this a gift?”

At the sarcastic remark from behind, Yuan etched patience into her brow and focused on her work.

Stop talking. Just stop.

She had started this project hoping it might be nice to take Clade for a stroll around the west wing annex.

But once Clade stepped outside, he lingered endlessly, like someone without a bedroom, constantly bothering Yuan.

As if unaware of her desire to surprise him, as if wishing to disrupt her concentration while she was still finishing up, he kept repeating similar questions.

Yuan, scrubbing vigorously while mentally picturing his well-shaped lips, suddenly turned to look at Clade, who had gone quiet.

His long, tall body sprawled across the rocking chair, basking in sunlight that slipped past the parasol’s shade.

Beneath his head tilted back, his slightly grown-out golden hair shimmered.

If she plucked those strands and spun them into thread, she could embroider a truly beautiful garment.

Would he get angry if she asked to borrow some hair for embroidery?

Lost in her odd fantasy, she chuckled quietly—then felt a sharp, piercing gaze.

Eyes like grape-flavored candy stared fixedly at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your Highness’s eyes are beautiful.”

Yuan wiped the lingering smile from the corners of her lips as she replied. Clade’s dissatisfied voice came immediately.

“Beautiful things are funny?”

“Seeing something beautiful naturally makes me laugh. And Your Highness’s eyes—they’re just like grape-flavored al….”

Yuan’s lips paused mid-sentence as she scrubbed vigorously.

How would a man who remained unmoved even when praised as “resembling the finest amethyst” react to being compared to grape-flavored candy? Wouldn’t he retort, “Your eyes look like a potato roasted over a fire”?

Clade was certainly capable of such a biting comeback—and more.

Yuan quickly shook her head. Naturally, Clade’s gaze sharpened further.

“Candy… something like that.”

“I misspoke.”

Please, just let it go. Just pass it over.

–Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub.

Her scrubbing hand moved faster.

Clade seemed to say something, but Yuan, pretending not to hear, plunged deeper into her work.

It was a busy task—scrubbing—perfect for excusing herself if she claimed not to have heard properly.

And as she did so, the sunlight pouring down on Yuan began to fade.

Startled by the sudden large shadow, Yuan lifted her lowered head.

The man who had cast his shadow over her gazed down steadily. Eyes like grape-flavored candy—devoid of hostility or caution.

Meeting those eyes, seemingly sweet and tangy, Yuan crouched back, retreating slightly.

“S-suddenly—”

“Your forehead is red.”

“From the sun.”

“Stop. You’re done now.”

“But just this one line, and it’ll be nearly—”

“No need to rush. I’ve already seen everything.”

The man, calm-faced, was unexpectedly insistent.

He had been like this all along.

When Clade first came to inspect the west wing annex, he examined the walls, now regaining their red hue, as meticulously as a tenant inspecting a rental home, and circled the fence area Yuan had carefully decorated.

After lingering for quite some time, he finally offered the underwhelming opinion, “Not bad, I suppose,” and from the next day onward, began appearing every morning as soon as Yuan started her work, loitering around the area.

Eventually, he made her move the large rocking chair and table that had been stored away—forcing the already busy servants to run back and forth to the distant storage shed multiple times—and then lounged about like someone on a picnic at a zoo, idly watching Yuan while picking petty quarrels.

If that were all, she might have thought having someone to talk to was better than being completely alone.

But precisely around noon, when the sun was strongest, he would appear like a ghost, inventing all sorts of excuses to stop her from working.

“Stand up.”

Just like now.

It wasn’t as if she’d get heatstroke from a bit of spring sunshine. Her skin didn’t tan easily to begin with.

She wasn’t some elderly nurse scolding a precious young lady not to tan before her wedding.

Yuan reluctantly set aside her brush, glancing regretfully at the nearly perfect work she had yet to finish.

“Huh?”

With a small grunt, she tried to stand—only for her foot to slip the moment it touched the muddy ground, damp from yesterday’s rain.

Just as Yuan startled and wobbled—

–Thud.

A strong force seized her wrist and yanked her forward.

Yuan’s eyes flew wide open in shock.

Her cheek, previously exposed to the cool spring air, pressed against warm heat.

It was Clade’s chest.

He usually dressed decently when stepping outside—so why had he come out today wearing only that usual, carelessly thrown-on robe?

The crisp scent of freshly laundered, thoroughly dried fabric spread out, brushing past Yuan’s nose.

And mingled with it—the faint herbal fragrance of the cleaning solution she had given to the laundry maids.

It was Yuan who shoved him back with a loud “Pop!”

“Shouldn’t you say ‘thank you’ first?”

Clade, momentarily stunned, muttered somewhat sullenly.

Yuan was glad her hair was loosely tied, hiding her ears.

She could distinctly feel them burning hot.

Yuan tightly embraced the lingering scent clinging to her body.

The fact that the same herbal fragrance from her cleaning solution came from his clothes felt… too strange.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Your Highness.”

Yuan shook her suddenly blank mind and fumbled through her clothes, pulling out a small pouch.

“What do you think of this?”

With trembling hands, Yuan held out the pouch. She wanted to change the subject quickly.

Inside were flat, thumbnail-sized seeds.

“Marquis Rev recently sent these.”

She added that they were said to be a similar species to the vines that once covered the red-brick mansion’s exterior.

Yuan took a few seeds from the pouch and offered them to him.

Soaked in warm water for about two hours this morning, the seeds had slightly swollen into heart shapes.

The moment Yuan saw their shape, her ears flushed red again, and she quickly curled her fingers into a fist, hiding the seeds.

“You’re the one who studies medicine and makes potions.”

Hence, his reaction: Why are you showing me this?

Yuan let her hair down to hide her reddening ears as she answered.

“It’s not for medicine—I want to plant them here.”

The Marquis had recommended them, saying that the large heart-shaped leaves climbing the walls and covering the mansion would look quite charming against the red bricks.

Originally, Yuan had planned to plant them alone—but now thought planting them with Clade might hold some meaning, so she placed the seeds into his hand.

“You expect me to dig here with a shovel?”

“…I’ll do the digging. Your Highness just needs to place the seeds.”

Her ears instantly regained their rosy hue.

Yuan inwardly thought, “What a difficult person to do anything with,” then swiftly turned and headed toward the corner of the annex where the red brick had been restored.

As Yuan plunged the trowel into the ground, imagining Clade, Clade quietly curled the corner of his lips and handed her a seed.

***

Capital City Cielo, Bolonico First Prince’s Palace.

Once again, Marquis Companni pushed through the long line of bribe-givers and entered the palace, heading straight for the training ground.

There, Bolonico stood wrapped tightly in protective gear, thrusting his rapier into the air as if sparring with an invisible opponent.

“Your Highness. Gerret Pelliese has made a move.”

Companni hurried over, panting as he reported. Bolonico removed his headguard and frowned.

“He’s reportedly using people to scout around the Black Mansion. Until now, we only had suspicions, but several witnesses have seen multiple individuals loitering around the area.”

“Completely different from when we sent the eighth bride. And the mansion?”

“The Deposed Crown Princess is tending to it.”

“Trying to forget her circumstances through gardening? How typical of a noblewoman stuck in the countryside.”

Bolonico elegantly extended his hand.

Companni swiftly pulled a handkerchief from his coat, but Bolonico didn’t take it—only flicked it lightly with his finger.

Companni leaned in closely and wiped the sweat from Bolonico’s forehead. Bolonico then wiped his rapier, still swinging in the air, with the same handkerchief.

“Are they still getting along well? Her and that beastly husband?”

Bolonico chuckled softly, recalling Clade’s animalistic howls.

The Marquis, having carefully wiped away his sweat, tucked the handkerchief back into his coat and bowed with graceful precision.

“Apparently, she still cries out in painful agony—after sleeping together, she reportedly suffers until dawn before finally falling asleep.”

“A beautiful woman enduring painful intimacy with an unattractive man. Even if she is the ‘Deposed’ Crown Princess, as a member of the imperial family, it’s truly pitiful. A responsibility that brings tears to my eyes.”

A smile, utterly unlike tears, quietly rose on his pale face.

“And the Deposed Crown Prince?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you think that monster actually has feelings for a woman?”

Companni carefully recalled the reports he had received.

They spent more time together, but there appeared to be no special physical contact.

Judging from his usual temperament, it seemed he was keeping her in sight—like when he first sent brides—merely watching, on guard…

“No chance. Though the Crown Princess is beautiful, he seems to remain vigilant. I’ve confirmed myself that he doesn’t even spare her a glance when I visit.”

“How pitiful. Her heart must have weakened greatly. How difficult it must be for her.”

Bolonico whispered with exaggerated sympathy, furrowing his brows.

“After all, I’m family too. I really should help her.”