#84
With a doubtful heart, Enrique untied the string and opened the pouch, emptying its contents onto his palm. A small black bundle of threads fell onto his hand. He could tell just by looking at it. It was Anture’s hair.
“…”
Enrique stared at Anture’s hair for a moment. The bundle of hair tickled his palm softly. As he recognized the sensation, moments of burying his hands in Anture’s hair flashed through his mind.
During passionate lovemaking, Enrique enjoyed putting his hands in Anture’s hair to savor its texture. Sometimes he would play with Anture’s hair while he slept. When kissing, his fingers would tingle at the touch of the hair ends draping over Anture’s nape.
“…You petty bastard,” Enrique muttered softly.
“Always catching me off guard and running away.”
The words coming out of his mouth were quite gruff.
Enrique brought Anture’s hair to his nose. Perhaps due to his mood, he seemed to smell Anture’s scent.
After playing with the hair for a while, Enrique carefully put it back in the pouch. He tightly tied the opening with the string and tucked it under his pillow. Then he laid his head on that pillow and lay down.
How should he describe this feeling?
It couldn’t be expressed in words.
Just… just…
After trying several times to define this feeling he was experiencing now into words, Enrique eventually gave up. It was difficult to express in words.
Enrique closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.
By the way, how much had Anture anticipated?
He sent a Shamier-style amulet, not any other token or letter. Did he expect Enrique to participate in the war despite being pregnant? Or did he simply send it wishing for Enrique’s safety from afar? No matter how he thought about it, it felt like the former.
‘That position indeed suits you,’ Enrique muttered inwardly. Then he tried to sleep.
As he was tossing and turning, just about to fall asleep… the identity of the emotion that was indescribable earlier suddenly came to mind. Longing. Yes, it was longing.
War preparations intensified in Shamier as well.
Although Enrique was appointed as the commander-in-chief as the crown prince, all the actual work fell to Duke Duvain, the deputy commander. But no one complained or was dissatisfied with this. Rather, they seemed anxious that Enrique might try to do something.
Fortunately for them, Enrique had no intention of being reckless with his body. After all, they only needed the justification that the crown prince personally led the army into war. There was no need, nor thought, to do more than that.
“It needs to be a bit more flashy,” Kisha said in a rather serious voice, looking at Enrique standing in leather armor. Julian nodded in agreement. Enrique looked at his reflection in the mirror. Indeed… it was lacking something to be a commander-in-chief.
“It needs some metal to give it a shiny effect… But we can’t put heavy metal armor on a pregnant body… What should we do?”
“How about densely embroidering the leather armor with silver and gold threads? That might give it a shiny effect.”
Kisha and Julian discussed seriously, exchanging ideas. Stitching leather itself was an extremely difficult task, and they were suggesting dense embroidery with gold and silver threads on top of that. The two weren’t considering the craftsperson’s effort at all.
“Gold and silver embroidery on leather? What a ridiculous sight that would be,” Enrique clicked his tongue, reproaching his two friends. The two tilted their heads, wondering if it would really look that ridiculous. The craftsman in charge of making Enrique’s armor looked relieved. He was clearly glad to be spared the effort of embroidering leather.
“Safety and protection are the top priorities, so I’d like the chest and abdomen to be reinforced a bit more,” Enrique said to the craftsman, examining his reflection in the mirror.
“Yes, I’ll reinforce it as much as possible as you said.”
The craftsman quickly replied. Enrique gestured for Pol to help him remove the armor. Although it was a lightweight leather armor made to fit his body perfectly, it still felt a bit stuffy to wear.
“My belly keeps growing, so please pay careful attention to make the waist size adjustable.”
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind, Your Highness.”
The craftsman withdrew with the armor. Enrique sat on the sofa with Pol’s support and drank some cool fruit juice. Julian and Kisha were still in discussion.
“The cape. The deciding factor should be the cape,” Julian said with a serious face. Kisha, after thinking for a moment, nodded.
“Right. If we make the cape as glamorous as possible, it might look somewhat imposing.”
“Then we should call in a seamstress. A large Shamier emblem embroidered in gold thread on a black cape would surely look majestic.”
“Wouldn’t silver thread look more sparkly and dignified?”
“No, gold thread is more sparkly.”
The conversation had now turned to whether it should be gold or silver thread. They couldn’t easily narrow down their opinions on just that and kept arguing.
“Why don’t you have them make prototypes of both and judge for yourselves?” Enrique suggested a compromise, tired of listening. Julian and Kisha exchanged glances and immediately nodded.
Only after this storm had passed did calm return to the reception room. The three sat in their respective places, enjoying tea and snacks.
“I want to go too,” Kisha said, crunching on a cookie. Julian, as if he had been waiting for those words, chimed in.
“Can’t you take us with you? You said you’d just be staying in the rear anyway. Wouldn’t it be great if we went together? You wouldn’t be bored either.”
“That’s right, that’s right. My husband is going too, after all.”
Kisha and Julian looked at Enrique with sparkling eyes. Enrique clicked his tongue, exasperated by his friends’ childish behavior.
“Do you think I’m going on a picnic? Taking all my friends along. What would others say?”
Disappointment spread across Julian and Kisha’s faces. But they didn’t seem too heartbroken, suggesting they knew it wouldn’t be possible.
“Fine. It’s not like we could do much more than keep you company anyway. It’d be better to take one more attendant instead. All we can do is earnestly ask our husbands to protect you well.”
A wistful look appeared on Julian and Kisha’s faces. Duke Duvain, Kisha’s husband, and Viscount Jares, Julian’s husband – both were set to participate in this war. As young alphas of high noble status in their prime, it was perhaps an obvious selection.
“I heard there have already been several battles at the border between Ruben and Baron,” Julian said. Enrique, already aware of this news, nodded silently.
Ruben and Baron shared a border. Some time had passed since Baron and Monta formed an alliance and began moving large numbers of troops to Baron’s border. It was about time for the troops to gather at the border. Ruben’s forces were also moving towards the border.
It was already crystal clear that war would break out, and they said several localized battles had already occurred at the border. With troops continuously arriving at the border, it was about time for a major battle to break out.
In contrast, Shamier’s participation was somewhat delayed. First, Theovan, who left with the main draft of the agreement, had to arrive in Ruben. Once the Emperor of Ruben signed it, that would mark the real start of the alliance and participation in the war. Although the timing of participation was a bit delayed, it gave them time to make thorough preparations.
“You’ll meet the prince, won’t you?” Kisha suddenly asked.
“Probably,” Enrique answered calmly.
“He must have known about your pregnancy for a while, but he’ll be surprised to see your belly so round already,” Julian said, looking at Enrique’s belly. Enrique habitually lowered his hand to stroke his belly.
“Don’t rub it so often like that. If the baby gets used to being touched from inside the womb, it’ll want to be held all the time after birth too,” Kisha, who already had a child, nagged.
“Well, that’s what wet nurses are for, isn’t it?” Enrique said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. Kisha made an expression of giving up.
“Anyway… when you meet the prince again, please don’t hit him.”
Enrique narrowed his eyes at Julian’s words. As expected of a long-time friend, Julian knew Enrique’s behavioral patterns well.
“So you were thinking of hitting him after all,” Julian said, observing Enrique’s expression.
“I need to slap him at least once to vent my anger. How can I let that ill-mannered scoundrel get away with just getting me pregnant and disappearing without even saying goodbye?”
Resentment was smoldering in Enrique’s low voice. Yes, Enrique felt very deeply offended by Anture’s action of vanishing without a word of farewell that day. Even if he later made a proposal that would bring great benefits to Shamier, that was that and this was this.
“If you must hit him, do it when you’re alone in a tent or something. How would it look if the heirs of allied countries were seen fighting?” Julian said with a sigh. Enrique silently snorted in response.
