CHAPTER 257: BEFORE SHE COULD SAY PRINCESS

The days after the festival passed quickly. The Spring Festival had ended, but Orrivale still seemed to carry a faint aftertaste of it.

Flowers that had been woven into necklaces and crowns now wilted on windowsills, while children laughed as they played beneath the forest’s tall trees.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Prince’s Estate.

The Orrivale children actually came knocking on the Estate’s gate.

It turned out Imelda’s father was a knight in Wilson’s Estate.

Needless to say, the most excited was Millicent.

The children were granted entrance after Aristia consented.

After that, the children came every other day since Aristia didn’t object.

On the first day after the festival, the day the children visited, the Orrivale children insisted on showing her and Alaric the "secret" paths that wound between the trees in Orrivale.

They weren’t really secret — anyone could find them if they looked hard enough — but the children whispered as if they were leading a princess into forbidden lands.

To Aristia’s helplessness, Alaric stuck to her side the whole time, even scowling whenever another child tugged at Aristia’s hand.

These were all children who were growing up without the considerations of aristocratic society. They were more carefree in relating with their friends.

"Don’t pull her like that," when he couldn’t bear it any more, he finally snapped at Killian, who only laughed and ran ahead.

Aristia shook her head at her brother’s sulking expression. "Alaric, you don’t have to glare at everyone."

"I’m not glaring." Alaric said, but his hand tightened around hers.

Aristia rolled her eyes. [Why do I feel like he’s become more possessive since coming to Orrivale? He wasn’t like this in Belonmusk.] She thought.

She didn’t know that it was because Alaric couldn’t take the onslaught of distractions that had suddenly fallen on Aristia because they were staying in the East.

He began to regret their decision of staying in the East instead of the North.

At least they wouldn’t be able to leave frequently in the North because of the cold.

On the second day, it snowed mildly.

Aristia stood by the window of her room, watching the snow, when her eleven Orrivale fans came to visit.

They wanted her to come outside, to join them in making "spring snow pies."

It sounded ridiculous. Aristia had never heard of it.

"They’re not real pies," Celeste explained earnestly, patting snow into a bowl-shaped lump.

[I can tell.]

Celeste continued. "It’s just snow mixed with leaves and twigs. But you have to decorate it carefully."

Even though she didn’t feel like it, Aristia crouched with them, her hands freezing as she shaped the delicate "pastry."

[This should be the last snow. I’ll only do this because of that.]

Alaric refused to join until Aristia offered to make one together with him.

[These days, he’s becoming more and more grouchy. Am I spoiling him too much?]

By the fourth day, the festival’s food stalls were gone from the streets.

The next day, Aristia visited the market with Catherine, Alaric and Melanie. This time, a few estate servants trailed behind them.

The townspeople bowed as they passed, yet the children still peeked curiously from behind their mothers’ skirts. A little girl even held out a shy daisy toward Aristia and Catherine.

Aristia bent down, took the flowers and smiled.

The eleven fans trailed beside Aristia at a bit of a distance, not wanting to come too close now that Aristia and Alaric were with their mother.

After the little sightseeing, the family returned to the Estate.

Owen joined them in the garden.

He brought news that Kai was settling into his magic training, though he often came back tired.

Alaric dismissed the subject entirely, uninterested in anyone but his sister.

Two days later.

Aristia sat cross-legged on her bed, chin propped in her hand, just thinking as Adeline massaged her head.

Owen was with her too, sitting on her chaise with his eyes buried in a book. He looked up to see her.

"Princess," he said softly, almost guiltily, "I know His Highness instructed us not to trouble you with anything, but... I thought you would want to hear this."

Aristia’s eyes lit up immediately. "Finally! Give me the highlights."

He leaned forward. "The aristocrats in Belonmusk are demanding for the delivery service to be expanded. I received Miss Dorothy letter almost two weeks ago."

Yes. He said demanding because that was just what it was. The aristocrats ’demanded’.

[Hm. They’re asking for it to be expanded. Took them long enough.]

In actuality, the delivery service had been incorporated to the restaurant months ago.

But it was done with a first come, first serve policy. There were only five slots available for it each week.

Any five aristocrats who paid for the service would get to use it that week. This made the aristocrats compete on who could pay first.

Of course, everyone knew that ’exceptions’ were made to members of the royal family and high ranking nobles, aka pure nobility.

Judging from what Owen said, the aristocrats were demanding that the delivery service slots be expanded or if possible, made available to all.

Aristia nodded. "We’ll make them complain and demand a bit more."

But the thought didn’t cheer her as much as she expected. Instead, she sighed and flopped backwards on the carpet, staring at the ceiling. "I swear, Owen. If Papa keeps treating me like I’m made of glass, I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" a small voice interrupted.

Aristia turned her head to see Alaric standing in the doorway, frowning with his arms folded like a miniature old man.

A drop of invisible sweat trickled down her forehead and she held back a shiver. [Wait. Was I just about to say that I’ll throw a fit?]

She turned to Alaric with grateful eyes. [Thank you. You’re my savior in brother’s clothing... if that makes sense.]

Alaric continued, "You’ll overwork yourself. Papa’s right."

Aristia groaned. "Not you too, Al."

[Really. Papa stopped me from getting work reports? Why? I’m only listening

to the reports, maybe give orders and stuff, but that’s nothing I can’t do!] Was what she wanted to yell.

Alaric walked into the room, glaring at Owen like he’d just caught him committing treason. "Stop giving her work. She should be resting. She has me to play with."

Owen was about to ask what work he gave her. Wasn’t he just informing her?

But in the end, he just coughed lightly. "...Yes, Prince Alaric." But his expression was helpless. Alaric had never liked him from day one; when he first met him upon arriving at the Grand Duke’s mansion.

Alaric ignored him and turned to Aristia, saying in a serious tone.

"Papa said I have to make sure you don’t work." He said, while climbing the bed and going to sit beside her.

Aristia sighed and stretched out a hand to rub his head and appease him. "I know, I know..." She yawned, leaning backwards into Adeline who sat behind her.

Adeline was a bit surprised, but she soon smiled.

The head massage was so nice, Aristia couldn’t hold back the sleepiness pulling her in. It didn’t help that the bed was so soft.

She fell asleep before Adeline could say princess.

***

Days after the spring festival, Amberale returned to normal. The only place in Amberale that didn’t celebrate spring were the West and North.

The north was covered with snow all year round so there was no spring, and the West only had two seasons; the rainy and the dry.

Just like that, it was already the seventh day after the Spring festival.

Aristia was reading a history book she had picked up in the Estate’s library.

A knock sounded softly on the door, turning her eyes away from the book and towards the door.

"Come in," she said, giving permission to the person on the other side.

The door opened to reveal Owen with a letter in his hand.

The first thing Aristia noticed was how grave his face was.

She put down the book. "Is anything wrong?" She asked, but her mind was already guessing.

[Could there be a problem with the restaurant?] That was the first thing that entered her mind.

Owen handed the letter to Aristia. "This came just now, princess. It’s from Miss Dahlia."

Aristia collected the letter from him and began unfolding it. It was obvious Owen had read the letter first, since it was unsealed.

The first thing that caught her attention was the handwriting. It was slightly shaky which was unusual for Dahlia. Her handwriting was usually neat.

She threw that to the back of her mind and began reading its contents.

Her heart skipped a beat and the letter almost fell from her hand as the words sank in.

She looked at Owen, uttering the words slowly.

"Leilani’s missing?"