Chapter 14: Lovesickness

“Your Highness, just where did you learn all of that?!”

Unable to endure the teasing any longer, Lorabelle hastily pulled the princess away from the garden.

Her cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, like a ripe apple, and her ears were just as red.

Her movements were stiff and awkward.

Every time she recalled the words the princess had whispered earlier, her body would grow restless again, unwillingly stirred.

“From books, of course.”

“Oh, but never mind that—I think I’ve figured out what’s wrong with you.”

“Wh-what’s wrong with me?”

Lorabelle perked up her ears, listening intently.

“You’re lovesick, Lorabelle!”

“Lovesick?”

Lorabelle didn’t quite grasp the meaning of the term at first.

After all, she’d lived all these years with hardly a thought for “love” or “springtime.”

But now, when her sword-and-honor-filled brain finally processed what the princess meant by lovesick, her whole body suddenly froze.

Lovesick?

Did she mean that kind of thing?

Romance between a man and a woman?

But she’d never even had close contact with a man—let alone romance.

Not even friendship, truth be told.

Lovesick… lovesick…

What exactly did the princess mean?

Was it some kind of new curse?

Or perhaps a rare disease?

Suddenly, she remembered the princess’s seductive whispers by her ear earlier, and her mind unwillingly latched onto a single word—yuri.

“Yuri…” Lorabelle murmured the word without thinking.

“Whoa, you’re so red, Lorabelle.”

Seeing her face go from red to pale, and then back to red again, the princess could pretty much guess what was going through her head.

Maybe it was because her hair was naturally bright red, but her blushing face made her look even more like a ripe tomato.

“My, my—looks like our two-hundred-year-old maiden knight has finally found her flower of yuri. Congratulations, really, congratulations,” the princess said, nodding like a proud mother.

“N-no-no, Your Highness, you-you-you must be mistaken! There’s no way I—I could possibly like a… a fairy…”

“Oh? So it is a fairy, huh?”

Looks like I’ve got some great dream material for tonight, the princess thought smugly.

Realizing she’d accidentally let that slip, Lorabelle instantly clamped a hand over her mouth.

At this point, it felt like anything she said would just dig her deeper.

“Lorabelle, you know what your problem is? You’ve just never had a taste of the good stuff!”

“All you ever think about is work and swordplay—dealing with those crusty old geezers in the Hall of Justice must be miserable, huh?”

“You’re almost two hundred years old already! You’ve finally found someone you like—how can you not go after them?!”

“Who knows, maybe it’ll be just the outlet you need to relieve some stress, right?”

Those words sank into Lorabelle’s ears, making her already blushing face grow even redder, leaving her more flustered than ever.

She tucked a few strands of her fiery red hair in front of her face, trying to hide the lower half of her expression, leaving only a pair of restless crimson eyes darting about, avoiding the princess’s gaze.

That armor, paired with that bashful look… really gets the imagination going, the princess thought.

She pulled Lorabelle’s hands away from her face, revealing the deeply flushed “apple” underneath.

“What are you so embarrassed about?! Lorabelle, you’re a holy knight!”

“If you like her—go after her! And once you’ve got her, go all the way! With your face and status, I don’t believe for a second she wouldn’t fall for you!”

The princess was practically shouting now, full of righteous passion.

She believed someone like Lorabelle, who had top-tier looks and stats, couldn’t possibly fail to win her crush over.

“Your Highness, I think you might be misunderstanding. Maybe it’s just…”

“Oh, enough already! You trying to make me die of frustration or what?!”

“It’s so obvious—what are you still confused about?”

“Your top priority right now is to go find her, then use that face and authority of yours to make her kneel at your feet!”

“And then do this, and that, and that…”

Honestly, if she weren’t stuck with royal responsibilities that kept her from going out, she’d love to meet the woman who could stir the heart of this lonely two-hundred-year-old knight.

It might just be her next favorite ship!

Lorabelle, meanwhile, still looked lost and overwhelmed.

She couldn’t shake how ridiculous it all sounded—lovesick, really?

She was a holy knight!

A person sworn to divine justice and sacred duty.

Falling in love with a fairy?

That sounded wrong no matter how she tried to spin it.

The princess was quickly growing impatient with Lorabelle’s hesitation.

She dragged her all the way to the castle’s main gate, where the drake-drawn carriage was still waiting.

“Take your mistress home—now!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Seeing it was the princess, the carriage driver quickly got down and bowed respectfully.

“W-wait, Your Highness, I really think that maybe I shouldn’t—”

Bang!

Before Lorabelle could finish her protest, the princess slammed the door of the drake-drawn carriage shut.

“You dawdle so much, and you call yourself a holy knight?”

“If only you were half as decisive in love as you are in battle.”

The drake carriage set off, pulling away from the castle.

*****

At that moment, back in Lorabelle’s estate, Aurora was sitting alone in the guest room.

The conversation she’d had earlier with Lorabelle kept replaying in her mind.

She kept her head bowed, eyes dull and lifeless.

A few strands of her silver-white hair slid off her shoulders, her whole figure appearing pale and drained.

Each time that conversation replayed in her mind, Aurora’s heart clenched again.

“Doesn’t care… Doesn’t care…”

She muttered those words over and over.

How she hated those three words—because they had come from Lorabelle’s lips.

Because they were the words that severed the last ties between them and the family they once had.

“How could she not care…?”

Knock knock.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the gentle voice of an elderly man.

“Miss, would you like some food and water?”

It was the old butler standing outside, holding a tray of bread and milk.

Aurora opened the door.

Her cheeks still bore faint tear stains, though her voice was calm when she spoke.

“No, thank you, sir… If possible, I’d like a few green leaves.”

“Green leaves?”

The butler blinked in confusion, wondering if he had heard wrong.

“Yes, just a few will do. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

The butler didn’t ask why.

In his many years of service, he had learned that a good butler never asks unnecessary questions.

A few moments later, he returned from the garden with some fresh-looking leaves and brought them to Aurora’s room.

“You’re not afraid I’ll run away?” Aurora asked quietly as she accepted the leaves.

After all, she was technically being held here as a “suspect.”

Yet, besides Lorabelle and the elderly butler, there were no guards in this whole mansion.

If she really wanted to escape, it wouldn’t be difficult.

“You won’t run,” the butler replied simply.

“I can tell from experience that you were likely a maid before, Miss. Your manners are very proper—you wouldn’t do something so disgraceful as ‘running away,’ especially when it would only deepen suspicion against you.”

The old butler had been judging people for decades. In his eyes, this woman clearly had a kind heart and carried herself with dignity.

Subjectively, he couldn’t believe someone like her would ever be involved with cultists.

“Is that so… Thank you.”

After she left this place, Aurora planned to find somewhere quiet and simply disappear.

So she didn’t want to keep sitting alone in this bare room, with only a wooden bed and table for company.

She asked the butler for permission to go outside for a walk.

Upon receiving it, she was escorted by him to the garden.

The garden was filled with snow-white silver-blush flowers—the kind Lorabelle had once loved most.

Aurora found herself wondering: even if her memories were gone, maybe her tastes hadn’t changed?

She suddenly grew curious—what kind of person was Lorabelle in other people’s eyes?

Turning to the butler, she asked softly, “May I ask about your master, Lady Crohn?”