As Yohana stepped out of the pavilion, she found Henrie standing there as if he had been awaiting her arrival. She approached him with a warm smile, "Henrie, are you taking a walk?"
Henrie's demeanor seemed to hold a touch of melancholy as he responded, "Actually, I happened to see you and Fabian entering the pavilion earlier."
Yohana nodded understandingly, quick to explain her role, "Your sister had some matters to discuss regarding her marriage arrangement with Fabian. I was just facilitating their conversation."
With a gentle gesture, Henrie extended his arm towards her. "Would you like to accompany me for a walk?" he asked.
Yohana accepted the offer, linking her arm with his, and they began to move together, their steps harmonizing with the tranquility of the surroundings. The soothing summer breeze brushed against their skin, filling the air with a sense of freedom.
Amidst the serene scenery, Henrie's voice carried a question laden with emotions, "Is it Fabian?"
Caught slightly off guard by the question without proper context, Yohana turned her gaze toward Henrie, seeking clarity, "What do you mean, Henrie?"
His gaze remained averted, his hair partially covering his face, as he repeated, "Is Fabian the one who holds your heart?"
Yohana felt a mixture of surprise and empathy at his inquiry. She quickly cleared up the misunderstanding, "Oh, no, Henrie. Fabian is like a brother to me. There's no romantic involvement there."
Henrie's demeanor seemed that of a wounded child as he muttered, "It just seemed... you two are so close."
She shook her head, assuring him, "We are close but in a sibling-like way. There's no romantic attachment between us, truly."
Henrie's lingering doubt was evident as he mumbled, "It just... appeared different."
"Appearances can be deceiving, Henrie."
Henrie's dissatisfaction was evident in his furrowed brow as he pressed for a more straightforward answer. "But, Runa, I saw you holding hands with Fabian the other day."
The past incident still weighed on his mind, and Yohana bit her lower lip, grappling with how to address Henrie's concerns without revealing her true identity.
"Henrie," she began, her voice gentle,
"I've known Fabian for a long time now. When I was young, I had an accident, and Fabian blamed himself for it. I couldn't bear to see him burdened with guilt, so I had to convince him that it wasn't his fault. Sometimes, the best way to convey our feelings is through a gentle touch because words alone can lose their power."
The shadow on Henrie's face persisted, and Yohana sensed that her explanation had fallen short of soothing his concerns. She reached out and tenderly took his hand, bringing it to her lips as she kissed his knuckles.
His face flushed crimson at the gesture.
"I wish you could trust me, Henrie," she whispered earnestly, her eyes locked with his.
"There is nothing romantic between Fabian and me. Our relationship is not the kind that you should worry about. If there's someone I would willingly give my heart to, that person would be you."
Yohana understood how easily one might arrive at a misconception regarding her relationship with Fabian. After all, from an outsider's perspective, her interactions with him could be interpreted in various ways.
Yet, given the complexities of her situation, she knew that clarifying the truth of her connection with Fabian wasn't a straightforward task. She couldn't possibly reveal her mysterious predicament to everyone she encountered, just to rectify a simple misunderstanding.
***
While strolling earlier that day, Queen Emma inadvertently stumbled upon a scene that painted Lady Runa and Duke Fabian in a rather intimate light. Their shared gestures, including the holding of hands, didn't escape her notice.
"Oh, my, look what we have here!"
Queen Emma recognized the potential of this occurrence as a means to remove Lady Runa from the equation, freeing up the path for Henrie. "Another rumor should be fatal for her at this rate, don't you think?"
Yet, her maternal instincts hesitated, as she didn't want Henrie's reputation to be tarnished in the process.
Contemplating the situation, Queen Emma pondered, If I handle this carefully, Henrie might emerge unscathed from the fallout.
However, Lady Rafaela offered her perspective, "Your Majesty, please consider that any rumor implicating such a connection between Lady Runa and Duke Fabian could irreparably damage His Highness' alliance with the Reinhard Duchy."
Queen Emma might not have been privy to all the nuances of Reinhard Duchy's support for the kingdom, but she understood its significance. She comprehended that jeopardizing a critical alliance for Henrie's future as a king wasn't a wise course of action.
Temporarily appeased, Queen Emma laid out a strategy. "For now, let the rumor circulate discreetly among the palace maids, insinuating that Lady Runa is engaged in frivolous affairs. However, ensure that Duke Fabian's identity remains veiled."
With these words of intrigue hanging in the air, Queen Emma departed for dinner, just as Lady Runa, Henrie, and even Elke converged for the evening's meal.
Amidst dinner, Queen Emma seized the opportune moment to weave a narrative with a purpose. As the sumptuous courses were savored, her words held the room's attention captive.
"My prince," Queen Emma's voice carried across the table. "Margravine Ester recently confided in me about a certain matter that struck a chord."
Henrie turned his gaze toward his mother. "What matter is that, Mother?"
With calculated eloquence, Queen Emma wove her tale. "It's about a distant cousin of hers, a man who found love on the streets and brought the woman into his world through marriage. Yet, fate dealt him a hidden hand.
"After the vows were spoken, he uncovered a truth—the woman hailed from a fallen noble lineage. Her parents, once esteemed, had become corrupt, squandering the people's hard-earned money to fund their opulent lives, while the villagers suffered."
Intricately spun webs of deception danced in her narrative. There was no such cousin, no familial secrets whispered in her ear by Margravine Ester. These elements were fabricated, painted into the story's canvas to craft a cautionary tableau.
The queen's motive was to cast a shadow of doubt, hoping that this allegory of a disastrous alliance might sway her son's convictions.
In measured tones, Queen Emma continued, "Eager to salvage his wife's tarnished reputation, her cousin toiled tirelessly. His unyielding belief in her inherent goodness paid dividends, as her standing was slowly redeemed.
"Yet, as the saying goes, an apple rarely strays from the tree. Despite his efforts, the lady, over time, squandered household resources for personal pursuits, leaving staff unpaid and debts unaddressed. The inevitable end? Bankruptcy."
Henrie placed his utensils beside his plate, leaning in with palpable interest. "What, then, is the underlying message you wish to impart through this tale, Mother?"
With an artful blend of subtlety and conviction, Queen Emma's reply danced upon her lips. "Oh, nothing more, my dear. Just a shared account of another's journey. Sometimes, lessons gleaned from the experiences of others can offer insights of great value. You, as the listener, might discover a glimmer of wisdom in their trials."
The atmosphere, thickened with the unspoken implications, clung to the room.
An unexpected gale of laughter burst forth, breaking the icy atmosphere. It was Elke, her voice dancing with amusement as she interjected, "Oh, Mother, are you subtly suggesting that Lady Runa has an origin from the streets? Let's not forget, just last year you would have bowed to her."
A mischievous light gleamed in her eyes, and the corners of Queen Emma's lips twitched involuntarily. Her attempt to undermine Lady Runa's position had been hijacked by her daughter's keen wit.