WTSP - 40

“Your Highness! Madame Ruavle has arrived. Shall I let her in?”

“Yes, and bring some refreshments as well, would you?”

Four days had passed since the hunting tournament, and Lena seemed unusually cheerful today.

Since that day, she had been deliberately putting on a bright front to keep me from worrying.

Overcoming Theo’s death wasn’t easy, but I was doing my best to move forward.

Even if I wasn’t okay, I had to at least pretend to be.

‘After all, I can’t stay collapsed forever.’

Lena, brimming with anticipation, scurried out and returned with a woman in her fifties.

The woman, adorned with elaborate jewelry, appeared far younger and more stylish than her age suggested.

Her skin was flawless—free of blemishes or wrinkles, likely due to regular care.

With her golden hair elegantly coiled atop her head, she curtsied gracefully while holding the hem of her dress.

“It is an honor to meet Her Imperial Highness, Empress Ophelia. I am Victoria Ruavle, commonly known as Madame Ruavle.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame. Thank you for coming such a long way. Please, take a seat.”

Madame Ruavle exuded the sophistication and poise I’d heard so much about. Though I knew little about jewels, the necklace she wore alone likely cost as much as an ordinary household.

Starting with nothing, she had risen to build a fashion empire, amassing wealth and fame rivaling even the nobility.

It was rumored that purchasing one of her dresses required at least two weeks’ wait, and custom orders could take up to a year—though timelines varied depending on the client’s status.

“Roboa tea. It smells wonderful, like a blend of rosemary and peppermint.”

“A specialty from the Tobret region. Such a rare treat. Thank you, Your Highness.”

“You’re welcome. But… may I ask why you’ve come?”

She seemed well-versed in teas—a necessity when dealing exclusively with nobles.

Savoring the tea’s delicate aroma, she met my gaze with an enigmatic smile.

“First, allow me to congratulate you on your remarkable performance during the hunting tournament. I hear you displayed extraordinary archery skills—and hidden magical talent as well.”

“Ah… Even if I say it was a misunderstanding, I doubt you’d believe me.”

I awkwardly picked up a piece of chocolate from the plate before me.

No matter how hard I tried not to think about that day, memories kept resurfacing unbidden.

I thought I was getting better, but it seemed my wounds hadn’t fully healed yet. Pretending to be fine on the outside didn’t mean I was truly fine inside.

On the day of the incident.

At the moment of Theo’s death, a massive explosion erupted in the lake.

It could have caused significant casualties, but someone quickly erected a barrier, preventing disaster. However, one misunderstanding arose:

Rumors spread that I had cast the barrier. After all, no mages were present nearby, and the barrier formed directly in front of me.

Being credited for something I didn’t do was incredibly frustrating. But unless the true caster stepped forward, the mystery would remain unsolved.

By the eighth time hearing this story, I resolved to simply stay silent.

Gossip fades eventually. Once new rumors surfaced, everyone’s attention would shift anyway.

‘More importantly… Who orchestrated Theo’s fate?’

According to the investigation, a powerful bomb had been implanted in Theo’s body. Unlike conventional explosives, it only detonated when infused with mana.

Thus, Theo—a child with latent magical abilities—was the perfect weapon.

‘They must have planned to detonate him at the right time and place, leaving no evidence while killing everyone.’

Theo likely realized his body was about to explode.

That’s why he ran toward the lake without looking back—to minimize casualties, sacrificing himself.

I couldn’t shake the thought that finding Theo might have been part of someone else’s plan.

Where did truth end and manipulation begin?

That day, Theo tried to tell me something. Though he never voiced it, the boy hesitated yet sought to reveal the truth.

Did he fear being abandoned if he revealed the bomb inside him? How terrified he must have been. I couldn’t fully comprehend what an eight-year-old might feel in such a situation.

When Theo’s parents found their lost children returned as corpses, they wept bitterly.

All that remained were decaying bodies and fragments of bones. They had to dig graves themselves to bury their sons.

No words of comfort could reach them.

Led by Harpin and Rovair, the royal knights captured six guards and three mages from the underground lair.

Upon learning of Theo’s disappearance, they attempted to destroy evidence but failed to erase everything.

Two mages escaped via teleportation, meaning at least five mages had conducted human experiments there.

“Your Highness?”

“Ah, Madame Ruavle. My apologies—I was lost in thought…”

Snapping out of my reverie, I blinked and cleared my throat. I’d drifted off thinking about Theo again.

Could you repeat that? With an awkward smile, I apologized once more.

“Of course. I proposed collaborating with our store to expand Your Highness’s designs into a larger venture.”

“My designs? You mean the pants I wore a few days ago?”

“Word has spread among noble ladies. Many are inquiring about the pants you wore. The Solian Duchy alone placed an order for ten sets. If the Solian heiresses wear them, the trend will spread like wildfire.”

Before the tournament, most mocked my attire, but it seemed my recovery period coincided with a surge in popularity.

And the Solian Duchy? That’s where Empress Yuriel hailed from.

How my design reached them remained a mystery.

“So, what do you think, Your Highness? Our shop will handle production, and you’ll grant us the design rights. It could become a major enterprise.”

“Why limit the pants to hunting outfits? What if we adapted them for everyday wear? I’d love to see more ladies live comfortably.”

“Absolutely. Here’s a proposal I prepared in advance. It’s quite detailed—take a look and contact us.”

Madame Ruavle handed Lena a thick stack of papers—easily over a hundred pages.

Surely I wasn’t expected to read all that. Internally flabbergasted, I forced a polite smile.

If trousers became mainstream in the Empire, women could abandon uncomfortable corsets. Whether profitable or not, I had no reason to refuse.

‘Besides, I personally hate wearing dresses.’

I escorted Madame Ruavle to the door.

Confident I’d accept her offer, she seemed determined to proceed. Her thorough preparation reflected her commitment to the project.

After seeing her off, I sat on the edge of my bed to collect my thoughts.

Since that day, I’d avoided meeting anyone, including Serdel, citing the need for rest. Only Lena was allowed in.

Seeing Serdel reminded me too much of Theo—they shared the same hair and eye color.

‘I can’t keep avoiding things. It’s time to return to normalcy.’

I wiped my face with dry palms and stared at the wardrobe.

Come to think of it, it had been nearly a week since my last sword training session with Sir Rovair.

Skills fade with disuse, after all.

Yes, let’s start over, one step at a time.

Theo wouldn’t want me lying around helplessly.

Changing into my practice uniform, I informed Lena of my destination and left the Empress’s quarters.

It had been quite a while since my last outing.

The sunlight was warm, the breeze gentle. The air felt especially kind today.

Without hesitation, I headed toward the training grounds where Sir Rovair awaited.