Chapter 33
Chapter 33
"Huh? S-suddenly? Don’t you need to go give your gift to your hunter?"
"Well... I’m not ready yet. Just thinking about it makes my heart pound," Maria said, her face flushed red.
"Um, if it’s okay, could I come with you when you give your handkerchief? Watching you might give me some courage."
No way.
Now I was just as terrified to hand Tristan my plain, uninspired gift.
But more importantly, there was a second, far bigger reason.
In the original story, Maria doesn’t give her gift to Arthur on time.
This was because her uncle had told her, “Give your gift to someone less sought-after. Picking someone highly competitive could leave you empty-handed, and that would be a disgrace.”
While Maria was hesitating, Arthur, rejecting all other ladies’ gifts, entered the hunt empty-handed. Yet, in classic cliché fashion, he eventually received Maria’s handkerchief anyway.
The setup? Arthur gets injured protecting Maria, and she uses her handkerchief to bind his wound—the quintessential romantic trope.
Now is definitely not the time!
I quickly came up with an excuse.
"For your sake, Maria, it’s better if you don’t come. The person I’m giving my handkerchief to is none other than Prince Tristan."
"What?"
"He’s been bothering you since the start of the season, hasn’t he? Of course, I plan to do my best to... uh... offer him some advice so he changes his attitude!"
"..."
"But for now, I’m worried he might approach you again and make you uncomfortable—"
But Maria shook her head and said something unexpected.
"Well... to be honest, it’s true he was a bit much at the beginning of the season."
"Exactly! He asked you to dance several times until you gave in!"
"But that kind of attention stopped quite a while ago. It’s been so long since his last invitation that I can’t even remember it."
Wait, what?
"Doris, think about it. Even at the royal party in May when we first met, didn’t he avoid dancing with me?"
"Well... yes, but..."
"The prince isn’t interested in me anymore."
Maria’s expression was completely sincere.
"Like many young nobles, he was briefly enthusiastic at the start of the season, but that faded quickly. You don’t need to worry anymore."
"...Thanks."
I said it, but doubt lingered in my mind.
Tristan? Giving up that easily?
If he had, it would be good news for him as a person but unsettling from the perspective of the original plot.
While I mulled this over, Maria cautiously asked another question.
"By the way, who is your sister giving her gift to?"
Why is she asking that?
Though puzzled, I answered honestly.
"She didn’t prepare anything. She thinks just accepting someone’s gift is a blessing in itself."
"Wow, that’s amazing. It’s that kind of confidence that makes Lady Natalie’s allure so extraordinary."
Genuinely admiring Natalie, Maria revealed the true reason behind her question.
"Actually, my uncle said... that the Earl and Countess Redfield seem intent on forming a marriage alliance with the young marquis."
Ah, so the rumors reached the Meyers as well.
"Coming back safe isn’t enough. I’ll return with a fox to grace your neck."
Of course, these romantic exchanges rarely aligned perfectly. Most of the time, the affection was one-sided, with feelings brushing past each other like mismatched arrows.
Knights pretended to inspect their bows but straightened up the moment they heard the rustle of skirts, their eyes following any lady who passed by. And when a lady walked by without stopping, they stared longingly at her retreating figure.
Are you all ducklings that just hatched? And do you hatch anew every time a woman walks by?
Meanwhile, certain tents, such as Arthur Albion’s, attracted flocks of ladies vying for attention.
But, interestingly, the gifts didn’t pile up like one might expect.
One lady, holding a handkerchief, called out to Arthur.
"Your Grace, why do you refuse?"
"Because I cannot offer a gift worthy of your sentiments in return."
"I’m not asking for anything in return! Just accept this handkerchief I embroidered—"
"There is nothing heavier than a heart that expects nothing in return. Please grant me the grace of not disappointing you further."
After a prolonged back-and-forth, the lady spun around and stormed off, her eyes red from frustration. Arthur’s impeccable refusal remained unyielding.
Beside me, Maria let out a sigh filled with complicated emotions.
"Phew... Thanks for your advice earlier, Doris. There’s no way I could give my gift in this atmosphere."
"You’re welcome. Use the time until tonight to prepare yourself."
Arthur’s responses had become smoother than they used to be. Clearly, he’d had plenty of practice rejecting confessions.
Though I knew he’d eventually accept Maria’s gift, the process would likely feel even heavier for her.
Honestly, just standing here feels overwhelming.
Around us, whispers from other ladies and their maids reached our ears.
"What if I hand him the gift while he’s replenishing water during the hunt? He wouldn’t be able to refuse then, would he?"
"Why not try at the evening banquet? The mood might soften him up."
Listening to them made my own nerves start to fray.
I turned to Maria.
"Shall we head back to our tent...?"
Wait—
The spot where Maria had been standing was now empty.
Where did she go?
Panicked, I scanned the area. Just as I caught a glimpse of the young maid’s skirt disappearing behind a tent, it hit me: they were deliberately hiding.
Don’t tell me...
"Looking for someone, Doris Redfield?"
...Not you, Tristan.
Of course, the Northern Duke’s camp had to be near the royal family’s.
I wasn’t ready for this.
"I asked what you are looking for."
His voice carried a strange tension, though it might’ve been my own nerves projecting.
Why are you here already? I haven’t even figured out how to deal with your gift yet!
"I, um, I came out because it seemed like the opening ceremony might start soon—"
"Then you’re free for now. Let’s take a walk."
"Huh? Aren’t you busy preparing for the ceremony?"
"I have time to spare for my betrothed."
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