Commemorative Short Story #4: Celestine’s Melancholy Moment

It was before the academy’s entrance ceremony.

In the royal capital of the Kingdom of Iwood, inside the royal castle at its very center, a woman sat at her desk, holding her head in her hands.

“Sigh… Prince Rodel really is hopeless, isn’t he…”

At the office desk sat Celestine Crocus, the daughter of the Crocus ducal family — and the fiancée of Rodel Iwood, the kingdom’s third prince.

In front of her was a mountain of documents.
They were supposed to be Rodel’s responsibility, but since he’d shirked his duties, the work had fallen entirely on his fiancée instead.

“If only he would process things gradually and in an orderly fashion… Why does he let everything pile up like this?”

If one were to describe Rodel Iwood in a single phrase, it would be: “the foolish prince.”

Arrogant by nature, he refused to do his royal duties yet constantly asserted his royal privileges.
He was lecherous, always chasing after women, and had even caused scandals by harassing maids and female clerks.

His only redeeming feature was his exceptional magic talent — though even that was questionable, as he often lost his temper and unleashed destructive magic when something displeased him.

“I could have sworn he was gentler when we were children…”

Celestine sighed softly and placed a hand on her chest.
She, too, had once nearly been assaulted by Rodel.
He’d torn her dress and pushed her down, but fortunately, a nearby royal guard had intervened in time.

The memory of almost being violated had left a deep, bitter scar in her heart.

The engagement between Celestine and Rodel had been arranged by the late Queen Dowager.
Even in death, the Queen Dowager was revered by many powerful nobles, and she had practically forced the engagement upon them.

To make matters worse, it had been sealed through a magical contract — meaning Celestine could not dissolve it of her own will.

(Even if Father were to use all his power, breaking it might still be possible… but the kingdom would surely split in two.)

Among the Queen Dowager’s loyal followers were influential nobles such as Marquis Aiger.
If the Crocus family tried to annul the engagement arranged by the revered Queen Dowager, Aiger would certainly intervene in outrage.

“Pardon me, Celestine-sama. A letter has arrived from the Royal Academy.”

“Thank you. Please leave it there.”

“Yes, my lady. Excuse me.”

A steward entered the office, delivered the letter, and left.

It was from the Royal Academy, where Celestine would be enrolling in the spring.
Upon opening it, she found a request for her to deliver the welcoming address as the representative of the new students at the entrance ceremony.

“I don’t mind giving a speech… but I can already imagine Prince Rodel throwing another fit over this.”

She let out yet another sigh — she had lost count of how many times today.

Rodel’s pride was notoriously fragile; he would surely rage over why Celestine, not he, had been chosen as the new students’ representative.
He probably wouldn’t cause a public scene at the ceremony itself… but some form of petty retaliation was almost guaranteed.

“He wouldn’t actually throw mud at me, would he? He’s not a child…”

Celestine gave a tired laugh — but fools, by nature, do not realize their own foolishness.

As she returned the letter to its envelope and set it on the desk, one of the documents slipped and fell to the floor.

“Oh my, how careless of me.”

She bent to pick it up — and tilted her head when she saw what was written on it.

“Hm? This is… from Marquis Rosemary?”

It wasn’t a regular document, but an official notice from the Rosemary territory.
The content: that the Rosemary sisters, Viola and Primula, had recently become engaged.

The marquis had even taken the trouble to formally notify Prince Rodel through an official document.

“Ah… I see. As expected of Marquis Rosemary — ever the cautious one.”

The intent was clear.
It was a warning — both sisters were now engaged, so the lustful prince was to keep his distance.

Celestine had met Viola and Primula before; both were strikingly beautiful.
If they crossed Rodel’s path, there was no doubt he would try to make advances.

(But by sending an official notice like this, the marquis ensures that Rodel can’t claim ignorance later. Smart move.)

Even if Rodel never read the notice, it would still exist as an official record.
Should he ever attempt to lay a hand on the sisters, their family could legally and publicly accuse him of pursuing already-betrothed women — and they’d have every right to punish him harshly.

(“We warned you beforehand,” they could say, with perfect justification.)

“The fiancé’s name is… Rest, is it?”

A name she didn’t recognize.
Since no family name was listed, he was likely a commoner — though for Marquis Rosemary to entrust both daughters to him, he must be a man of remarkable ability.

“For the marquis, who dotes on his daughters, to entrust both sisters to one man… I wonder what kind of person he is. Surely, someone kind… and talented in magic as well.”

Celestine’s tone softened slightly, her expression wistful.

If only her fiancé were such a dependable and gentle man.

“Rest… I’d like to meet and speak with him someday.”

As she imagined the face of this unseen young man, the tension in Celestine’s features eased — just a little — under the weight of her fatigue.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter