10 : Red Hair

"Heyy! You're early, Purplany," Rufus greeted with a smile as he dismounted from his horse.

I stomped my feet and shot him an irated glare. "As the daughter of a Count, it is my honor to escort you, YOUR HIGHNESS Prince Rufus Astalieu," I stressed "your highness" to highlight my frustration.

Rufus and I had arranged to meet today, but he had the audacity to keep me waiting for an hour on a winter day.

It's the beginning of winter already, and ever since we were young, we've had a tradition of going out every first day of winter. Typically, we just play outside or do random activities.

"Hey! Cut it out with the 'your highness' thing. You know how much I dislike it, don't you?" He approaches me and touches my forehead.

I slapped his hand away and shot him a glare. "You don't need to touch it. It's freezing, obviously. You made me wait out here in the cold for an entire hour. AN HOUR! Can you imagine?"

Rufus removes his coat and drapes it over my shoulders. "I'm sorry. On my way here, I saw someone slip on the snow, and I had to rush her to the nearest hospital. I apologize, Csille. Let me make it up to you today. Come on, let's get going."

Before Rufus could mount his horse, a man in a guard uniform appeared out of nowhere. "Your highness, the Duke instructed that you should not ride the horse during winter. You cannot ride with Lady Lauretré."

I shot Rufus a teasing look and arched my eyebrows. "Your highness, huh?" I smirked playfully at him.

He shot me a defiant look and turned his attention back to the guard. "I've told you before, stop with the 'your highness' nonsense." He then handed the reins of his horse to the guard. "Here, take it. But if you do, how will I give Lady Lauretré a tour?"

I rolled my eyes at Rufus's use of "Lady Lauretré." He always liked to get back at me with that.

A grand carriage abruptly halts before us, its crest prominently displayed atop. It bears the emblem of the Astalieu family, a symbol renowned throughout the monarch, as it also signifies the royal family of the Vrawyth Kingdom.

    The attendant holds the door open for us. "Your highness," he addresses Rufus, who merely shakes his head before stepping into the carriage. Despite his reluctance to acknowledge it, the royal lineage running through his veins is undeniable. "Lady Lauretré," the attendant acknowledges with a nod, to which I respond with a polite smile before following Rufus inside.

    As both Rufus and I are minors, a few guards, ordered by the Duke, followed our carriage. Rufus muttered his disapproval under his breath due to this arrangement.

   "I don't get why he won't let us enjoy ourselves alone," he grumbled, shooting glares at the guards in the carriage next to us.

   "Have you forgotten what happened at your boarding school?" I reminded him, and he just pouted in response.

Rufus Astalieu, with his fiery red hair, is a new addition to the novel. He wasn't part of the initial version, but I introduced him during revisions after writing him into the magical notebook. While I've only touched on his character briefly, I've hinted at a strong bond between him and Csille in one of the chapters. However, I haven't fully described their relationship yet.

Now, I'm witnessing firsthand just how close Csille and Rufus are. Their bond is stronger than I anticipated. It's eye-opening to see the depth of their relationship. I can't help but feel sorry for Rufus. Despite his innocence, he's been shunned because of the color of his eyes and hair.

It's a reminder of the consequences of my creations. It's my fault, and I feel guilty for the hardships Rufus has faced because of it.

Reflecting on the initial version of the novel, I realize that Rufus wouldn't have come into existence if I hadn't revised it. It's a thought that lingers in my mind, stirring feelings of regret. If I had stuck with the original story, Rufus wouldn't have faced the challenges he's enduring now.

There's a part of me that wishes I hadn't altered the storyline. In doing so, Csille wouldn't be grappling with these complexities, and Rufus wouldn't be subjected to the hardships he now faces.

Recalling the conflicts introduced in the second version, including the presence of a traitor and the ensuing complications, I can't help but ponder if they were necessary. It could have been avoided.

"Csille?" Rufus waves his hand in front of me. I slap it away and frown.

"What? I'm just lost in thought."

Rufus stares at me for a moment before moving to sit beside me. "What's on your mind?"

I gaze out the window as the snow falls gently. "I'm thinking about the Crown Prince."

"Oh. What about him? I didn't realize you were close with him."

I meet Rufus's gaze and shake my head. "I'm not close to him. I've only accompanied him briefly. I'm just concerned about his well-being. Have you heard about the news of his departure? It was meant to be kept secret, but someone leaked it. Now, the Crown Prince's safety is at risk because of it."

Rufus sighed. "I heard about it when I talked to the Count. We're not particularly close, but I also hope he's alright. Let's just hope nothing happens to him. It's been almost a month already. We just have to wait for five more months."

I nod in agreement with Rufus. Prince Fraser, I hope you're okay. Please stay safe.

_________

"Csille, try this. It's called Prinsesstårta. I heard from some locals here that this is their best seller. You can only buy it here." Rufus places a plate with a slice of Prinsesstårta in front of me.

I gaze at the green dome cake. It's one of Csille's favorite desserts. I didn't know Rufus was the one who introduced it to her. I never wrote about that.

As I took a bite, a burst of flavor delighted my taste buds. I had never experienced the taste of Prinsesstårta before. When I wrote the scene where Prince Fraser brought Prinsesstårta for Csille's birthday back in middle school, I didn't pay much attention to it. I simply searched for medieval cakes until I came across Prinsesstårta.

It's a traditional Swedish layer cake consisting of alternating layers of airy sponge cake, pastry cream, and a thick dome of whipped cream. The cake is topped with a layer of marzipan, giving it a smooth rounded appearance. It earned its name, prinsesstårta, or "princess cake," because it was said to be a favorite among princesses.

"How is it? Do you like it?"

I looked at Rufus and nodded, swallowing the cake in my mouth. "It's delicious. I've never tasted anything quite like it before. You should definitely try it too."

I cut a piece of it and put it on Rufus' plate. "Taste it. You'll fall in love with the taste."

Rufus took a bite and sampled it. I waited for his reaction, but his face remained calm, as if the cake he was tasting was flavorless. "It actually tastes good. I like it too."

I frown at him. "Seriously? Your reaction doesn't match your words." I folded my arms and stare at him.

Just as Rufus was about to reply, a voice interrupted him. "Oh, look, it's the cursed red-haired child."

I glanced around and noticed several children from noble families entering the pastry shop, accompanied by servants and guards. They appeared to be between the ages of ten and thirteen.

I glanced at Rufus, but he didn't react to their words. Instead, he continued to enjoy the prinsesstårta leisurely, as if he was simply relishing the taste.

The noble children grew irritated by Rufus's apparent disregard and approached him, mocking him. I observed Rufus, anticipating his reaction, but he simply smiled at me and resumed enjoying his prinsesstårta, unfazed by their taunts.

   "Csille, why aren't you eating? I thought you liked it?" Rufus asked, seemingly unfazed by the commotion caused by the noble children beside him.

   I slam my hand down on the table, causing a loud noise that grabs the attention of the nobles who were chattering nearby. The sudden silence spreads, and even other customers glance over to see what's happening.

   I glance at the noble children and quickly cover my mouth, feigning an apologetic expression. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to make such a loud noise. I was just trying to shoo away a pesky fly that landed on our table. You know. I prefer to eat in peace without any interruptions. Please, carry on." I gesture for them to continue, and Rufus chuckles beside me. I shoot him a stern glare, causing him to stop laughing immediately.

   The noble children quiet down, and one of them murmured to the person in front. "Hey, isn't that Csille, the only heiress of the Lauretré family? We shouldn't provoke someone of her status. Let's leave for now and find another chance to tease the cursed child later."

The person in front glanced at me, and I offered a feigned smile, calmly savoring my prinsesstårta as though I hadn't overheard anything.

   The noble children offered their apologies to me before attempting to leave. However, before they could take a single step, I stopped them.

"While I appreciate your apologies, I'm afraid they're misplaced. It's not me you should be apologizing to." I directed my gaze towards Rufus and gestured towards him. "It was Prince Rufus ASTALIEU who invited me for tea, and you interrupted our conversation. What if the Prince were to report this to the Duke? I, as the daughter of the Count, would not dare to incur the displeasure of HIS MAJESTY Duke Astalieu." I even stressed certain words as I addressed them.

    Among all the noble families, Lauretré is the highest. Aside from it, we also have a close relationship with the royal family. It's the reason why all the nobles family pays respect to us.

The Duke's role in the monarchy is more ceremonial than political. While he holds a title, it lacks significant political power. This is why these nobles feel emboldened to taunt the Duke and Rufus in this manner.

    The leader of the group glanced at Rufus and bowed his head, followed by the other children. They apologized in unison before promptly leaving the place.

   Rufus shook his head and applauded. "Your handling of the situation was impressive. You could have a future in the monarch's court."

I glared at him. "Why did you allow them to behave that way?"

    Rufus paused mid-bite and offered me a rueful smile. "What would you have me do? Raise a hand on them? My reputation's already tarnished. I can't risk tarnishing the Duke's name further." He turned his gaze toward the window beside us.

   I sympathized with Rufus. It wasn't his fault he was born with red hair. It's as if having red hair is considered a curse. While red hair may be uncommon in the real world, it's still normal. However, in this world, no one has had red hair before.

   I gazed at my own hair. "Why do they only target you? I also have unique eyes and hair color."

   Rufus glanced at my hair and eyes. "You're different, Csille. You're from the Lauretré family, the highest noble family in Vrawyth. Who would dare to provoke you?"

   "But you're part of the royal family. You're a Prince. You're the Crown Prince's only cousin. You're also from the Astalieu lineage."

Rufus shook his head. "But I'm not a full-blooded Astalieu, Csille. My mother was just a maid consort."

   "Hey! That's your mother we're talking about. So what if she is? The Queen herself descended from a distant relative of a noble family. You could even argue she has commoner origins."

   Rufus smiles at me and tousles my hair. "Quit defending me. And watch your words. That's the Queen you're talking about."

   I pout at him and adjust my hair. "So what? I'm not making things up. What I'm saying is true. You're still an Astalieu. Regardless of what happened, you still carry the Astalieu blood."

   "Okay, okay. I won't argue anymore. When have I ever won a conversation with you?" Rufus mumbled as he continued eating his prinsesstårta.

I looked at Rufus, feeling a pang of guilt. I'm sorry for making your life miserable, Rufus.

__________

As I was brushing my hair, I noticed an envelope on my study table. I had just finished refreshing myself after spending the day with Rufus.

  "A letter?" I picked it up and examined the symbol in the wax stamp. While I couldn't quite place where I had seen it before, it did seem familiar.

One thing was certain. It didn't come from any noble family of Vrawyth. "Where did this come from?"

   As I opened the letter, I realized it was from the Kingdom of Aeslaerean. The familiarity of the symbol struck me—it was the same symbol I had seen on King Thoumassin Saintizin at the banquet. But why were they sending me a letter? I tried to recall any scenes I had written in the notebook, but since I skipped this time, I couldn't remember anything about it. So why did they reach out to me?