Chapter 38
“Why on earth did Your Highness go to the central temple?”
“I was ordered to do volunteer work.”
“Volunteer work? Just like that? What about this morning’s lessons and the afternoon duties?”
“Because of the Morality Edict, that schedule has been temporarily nullified. I heard that, for the time being, he is supposed to focus solely on volunteer work.”
“No way…”
Does this even make sense?
I was too confused and looked at Eunice. She seemed just as bewildered as I was.
“At this rate, rumors might spread that the direct reason the young lady fainted was because of the Second Prince.”
“Rumors?”
“Since he’s such a high-ranking person, even a brief appearance on the street would spark all kinds of rumors.”
If this volunteer work continues for a long time, the strange rumors will probably become exaggerated even more.
‘Did the real Empress arrange this to deliberately send Lionel to volunteer?’
To make people believe that Lionel committed some misdeed against me, enough to justify volunteer work?
“Um, Lady Duchess. Actually, some of my classmates work in the First Prince’s Palace and the Empress’ Palace. So I’ve heard a bit.”
“What did you hear?”
She had friends working in the First Prince’s Palace while she herself worked for the Second Prince?
‘Jackpot!’
I placed my hand on our dear Fiona’s shoulder and said,
“Tell me. Everything you heard.”
Fiona emphasized that if anyone found out she had been spreading this story, she could be fired. So she shared it with me in complete confidence.
“The First Prince recently began receiving treatment from a certain bishop, and apparently it’s working. So now he’s secretly started imperial studies classes.”
“Oh my…”
As the saying goes, walls have ears. I guess that’s why my family had warned me repeatedly to be careful about what I say in the palace.
“So? What does that have to do with making the Second Prince do volunteer work?”
“To interfere with a competitor. Honestly, if the Second Prince keeps attending lessons like this, how could the First Prince possibly catch up?”
It’s like a turtle far behind forcing a sleeping potion on the rabbit to overtake it.
“And… my friend overheard some whispers from the First Prince’s palace attendants. Apparently, the First Prince seems to have feelings for Lady Duchess…”
“Excuse me? Me? I’m my brother’s fiancée!”
“Maybe not in a romantic sense—perhaps he wants Roheim?”
I wished I could just laugh it off, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the future described in the story. In it, the First Prince actually made me—originally my brother’s fiancée—his wife.
‘Ugh, how gross. Even so, how could he think of taking his brother’s fiancée?’
Anyway, it clarified things.
‘He wants to sully a competitor and cause a rift between me and Lionel. He’s conducting a public opinion campaign.’
Then it’s possible rumors will spread that Lionel is a violent man who lays hands on his fiancée.
I rubbed my forearm and firmly held Fiona’s hand, grateful for the information she gave me.
“Thank you for telling me, Fiona. That really helped a lot.”
“Hmm-hmm. Don’t mention it. It’s nothing. Besides, Lady Duchess, you were cursing that bastard with me at the time, weren’t you?”
Fiona winked at me, and I felt a deep sense of camaraderie.
‘Anyway, I need to solve this issue before strange rumors about my fiancé spread.’
What matters in a public opinion war?
Strike first!
First impressions are important for a reason. Once someone’s mind has labeled you negatively, no matter how much good you do afterward, they’ll still see you as unpleasant.
‘If people try to label my fiancé as violent and me as the victim…’
Alright. Decision made!
In the eastern part of the capital, at the far end of Clover Street—where commoners live and house prices are cheapest—it borders the slums.
The reason house prices were low in Clover Street was simple: deep inside the slums, low-quality criminals hid, making the area dangerous.
Yet whether poor or criminal, aren’t they all lambs needing God’s care?
The temple’s relief center was set up without discrimination at the boundary between Clover Street and the slums, distributing food to those who came from late morning onwards.
Today, as soon as the temple’s tents were erected, the poor rushed in to claim food, jostling to get it first.
Actually, this wasn’t particularly hard. Just record names and hand out food.
The problem came afterward: people pretending they hadn’t received food and lining up again.
“James, go back. I clearly saw you before… Charles! Wearing a wig won’t work!”
“A wig? This is my real hair! Look! It doesn’t come off!”
“The glue smells, doesn’t it!”
“You brats! What’s the harm in giving one more loaf!”
“Please… my grandfather is bedridden and can’t come here…”
Every day, dozens of people used tricks or had pitiful personal stories.
Moreover, the sanitation and security were poor. Relief work in the slums was something both priests and paladins avoided.
Yet today…
“Next person.”
“Ah… yes…”
“Your name?”
“Ro… Romi. I’m nine.”
“Romi, nine… Take some bread and goat milk.”
“Th-thank you for your generosity…”
Those who had earlier pushed and shoved to get in line had vanished. Without anyone telling them to, people lined up orderly, quietly waiting their turn. Were these really slum residents?
“Next person… It’s the one from before.”
“Oh, I… I was too hungry… Sorry.”
“If you’ve already received food once, you can’t get it twice. Go back. Next person.”
Yesterday, the same person would have screamed, lying on the ground, demanding proof that he hadn’t received food. Now, he quietly apologized and stepped back.
The priests instinctively held the backs of their necks, shocked by the difference.
“These wicked people! They endured that much in front of us!”
“Well, even to their eyes, the royal family must look different.”
The priest exhaled and looked at the Second Prince, Lionel, who had taken the lead in distributing food.
His golden hair shone brilliantly in the sunlight like a divine halo, and his purple eyes sparkled like jewels, radiating noble dignity.
Even without a name tag, anyone could tell he was the Second Prince.
“That must be the Second Prince…”
“But for someone as grand as him to come all the way here for volunteer work?”
The temple staff had initially resented being forced to send the Second Prince to the slums. Orders from the palace were like a bolt from the blue.
Even if security was handled by the palace, what kind of volunteer work could a Second Prince—or heir apparent—do here?
“Ugh… what kind of volunteer work could a royal even do? Fine, send him to the slums!”
“W-what? To the slums? The Second Prince?”
“He’ll do it himself! Isn’t that right? Surely a royal wouldn’t personally hand out bread to the poor, would they?”
But that’s exactly what happened.
‘Why is he doing it so diligently? Isn’t volunteer work usually just showing up? Why would the Second Prince go so far?’
I wasn’t the only one wondering this.
“My distant cousin’s relative works as a servant in the palace. Thanks to that, I’ve overheard some rumors: the Second Prince is currently keeping a low profile.”
“Low profile? What did he do wrong?”
“Well, it’s… about this…”
“What? To his fiancée, the Lady Duchess? That’s impossible!”
People whispered that the Second Prince had been subtly abusing his fiancée, mentally and physically, to the point she fainted, and there were even rumors of a possible engagement cancellation.
“Lies! That refined-looking man would abuse his fiancée behind the scenes? Impossible!”
“Then does it make sense for him to be handing out bread to the poor?”
“Well… yes, in a way.”
Word spread quickly, exaggerating with each retelling, and the admiration and respect for the Second Prince almost turned into contempt—until…
“Lionel!”
A young lady, guided by a priest, quietly approached from behind the tent and suddenly hugged the Second Prince tightly.