A Handkerchief That Wasn’t Meant to Stay

“But since you’re out so early, have you had breakfast? His Grace is currently having his morning meal. If you wish, I can escort you to the dining room…”

“No, it’s fine. I usually skip breakfast anyway. Unless I have a breakfast appointment, eating in the morning tends to upset my stomach.”

From his decisive tone, it seemed he hadn’t come early just to get a free meal.
The palace fare was undoubtedly far more splendid than here anyway.

“By the way, have you had something to eat yourself?”

“Are you asking me?”

Eren hadn’t expected Harold to suddenly ask him such a thing, so he asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, is there anyone else here? Your waist looks like it’s barely a handful; you should eat properly. Was that your breakfast?”

It was none of Harold’s business whether Eren’s waist was one handful or two.
Since he kept making strange comments, Eren was starting to feel slightly burdened.

“Yes, that’s true, but I can get another one.”

“Making do with just a sandwich for breakfast. He hates skipping meals himself, but he starves his aide, it seems.”

The topic had veered off oddly, but it was clearly a comment about Kazen.
Afraid he might go and say something to Kazen, Eren waved his hands hastily.

“I just don’t enjoy eating much, that’s all. Please don’t say anything to His Grace.”

Fortunately, Harold didn’t seem to be entirely serious either, as he nodded readily without further comment.
Feeling burdened by talking with him further, Eren hurriedly seated him in a chair in the drawing room and changed the subject.

“What would you like prepared—tea, coffee, or wine?”

“Whatever Kazen drinks when he arrives, I’ll have the same. Don’t worry about it.”

“Very well. If you could wait here for a moment, I will inform His Grace of your arrival.”

Before Harold could speak again, Eren bowed politely and hurriedly left the drawing room.
Although he had barely escaped Harold, he now had to face an even more troublesome situation.

Telling Kazen, who was in the middle of his meal, that Harold had arrived early was bound to make him angry.
And that anger would likely be directed at Eren, not Harold, who had come before the appointed time. Just thinking about calming him down was tiring.

But what could he do? If he didn’t inform him, it would lead to bigger trouble.
Grumbling inwardly, Eren quickened his pace toward the dining room.

When Eren appeared where Kazen was currently eating, he made an unpleasant expression, as if he had a rough idea of what was happening.
Reading the displeasure on his face, Eren approached him with reluctant steps.

“Your Grace, His Highness has visited. He is currently waiting in the drawing room.”

As expected, Kazen’s face immediately twisted into a frown at Eren’s words.
He calmly set down his fork and let out a deep sigh.

“He doesn’t even let me eat properly. Fine. I’ll go now.”

He already hated having his mealtime disturbed the most, and the fact that the other party was Harold obviously rubbed him the wrong way even more.
Still, contrary to Eren’s expectation that he would be angry, his reaction was rather restrained.

Eren naturally approached behind Kazen and pulled his chair back for him.
As Kazen rose from his seat, he suddenly turned his head and noticed the handkerchief tied around Eren’s palm.

“Isn’t that Harold’s handkerchief?”

How did he recognize it was Harold’s just by seeing the handkerchief?

Though puzzled, answering his question came first.
Eren raised his hand so Kazen could see it better.

“That is correct. I broke a plate on the way and cut my hand while cleaning up. His Highness, who was nearby at the time, gave it to me.”

Eren spilled the details without even being asked.
Listening to the answer, Kazen suddenly reached out and snatched the handkerchief away.
Because of that, the soft fabric painfully scraped the wound, making Eren wince slightly.

“It doesn’t look good for you to have someone else’s handkerchief. I’ll return it.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Eren didn’t particularly want to keep it anyway, so he answered obediently.
On the contrary, he was even grateful that Kazen would return it for him so he wouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable.

Kazen glanced down at the blood-stained handkerchief for a moment, then stuffed it carelessly into his pocket and turned away.

“He’s in the drawing room now?”

“Yes. He said he would like to have tea with you when you arrive, so I haven’t prepared anything yet. I will prepare the same as this morning.”

“Good, do that. I’ll handle the Crown Prince from now on, so just deliver that message and do your own work.”

He already had a lot to do, so Eren was actually relieved Kazen said that.

“Yes, Your Grace. If you need anything, please call for me at any time.”

He secretly hoped he wouldn’t be called, but he said it out of courtesy.
However, just as Eren was about to turn away, Kazen suddenly grabbed his wrist.

He had grabbed the injured hand, which startled Eren.
Thinking he might be checking the wound, Eren looked at him, but Kazen was staring at his face.

“Did His Highness happen to mention why he came so early?”

“Ah, yes. He said the palace clock is broken, so he came early.”

Eren relayed the trivial answer he had heard verbatim.

He wondered if it might be an incredibly funny joke to Kazen, but his face hardened completely.
Fortunately, it seemed Eren hadn’t failed to recognize a funny joke due to being oblivious.

“Your wound—if it gets worse, it’ll be a nuisance, so get it treated and then report back.”

Kazen glanced briefly at Eren’s palm and added in passing.

“I’m already busy these days; if you get sick too, my head will ache.”

He was tempted to think it was concern, but given Kazen’s personality, it was unlikely he was worried about him.
He was probably just worried about losing someone to do the paperwork.

“The injury isn’t significant enough for you to be concerned about, Your Grace.”

“It’s your right hand, the one you hold a pen with. Handle it so it doesn’t cause problems with your work.”

As expected, Kazen’s concern was about potential disruptions to work.
Eren wasn’t particularly hurt either. It was the truth, after all.

“Yes, I will ensure it does not hinder my work as you command.”

“Good. Now get out quickly.”

Kazen waved his hand as if telling him to disappear promptly and picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.
Eren had no reason to stay alone with him for long either, so he bowed and left the dining room.

For some reason, it felt like Kazen’s gaze was stubbornly clinging to the back of his head, but it was probably just his imagination.

* * * *

Eren went to the kitchen, received a new sandwich, and headed to the study.
He had no time for a leisurely meal, so he had to make do with his food while sorting through the mail.

The morning time for organizing mail was crucial.
All sorts of important documents from across the duchy flew in by post.

First, Eren sorted them into things he needed to handle himself, things to pass on to the bank or lawyers, and so on.
The most important documents had to be neatly compiled into a single report before being presented to Kazen.

Because he had injured his right hand, writing the report took at least twice as long as usual.
He did think he should get it treated, as Kazen had said, but the problem was he had no time for that.

Moreover, this week he had to prepare estimates related to replacing the mage-stones within the estate, and he was swamped creating work schedules and calculating wages for the newly hired servants.

“Wait, what time is it?”

Eren, who had been absorbed in sorting the mail, suddenly looked up and muttered.

He reflexively turned his head to check the clock; it was already 11 AM.
He had to quickly prepare the flowers to be sent to Kazen’s fiancée before leaving for the club for lunch.

Recalling the urgent priorities, Eren immediately stepped out into the corridor.
Since the flowers had to be taken from the greenhouse in the garden, he headed out the back door.
Just the fact that an estate this large existed right in the heart of the city was enough to guess how wealthy the Clifford ducal family was.

‘I need to trim the garden trees more neatly. I should also buy and plant more flowers.’

Even while walking, Eren habitually looked for tasks.
As he neared the greenhouse, a strong scent of flowers wafted over.
Normally, he would have found it fragrant, but perhaps because of his headache, it felt overpowering.

The Clifford ducal greenhouse was so vast and beautiful it was considered a notable landmark even within the capital.
Its ceiling and walls were entirely made of glass, making it splendid even from the outside.

Kazen’s mother, the former Duchess who had left the estate not long ago, still occasionally held simple tea parties in the garden.
Nobles lined up to attend those greenhouse tea parties.

Of course, since preparing those tea parties also fell to Eren, it was not a particularly welcome event.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have a lot to do.”

Muttering to himself as if it were routine, Eren moved forward.