I Just Wanted to Call Off the Arranged Marriage With the Princess—Someone I Could Never Possibly Be a Match For—But for Some Reason, She Took a Liking to Me and Is Now Closing in on Me
That morning, I was rushing to get ready.
I should have been back at my parents’ house by now, but here I was, still at my mansion in the capital, fixing my appearance in front of the full-length mirror. I wanted to complain—or rather, I did try to complain—about why things had turned out this way, but all I got was a derisive snort.
“But I told you I didn’t want to!”
“How long are you going to keep whining?”
“I’m just trying to get dressed here, you know?”
Iris, the source of all this trouble, was peeking in from the doorway. She glared at me, her face practically screaming, “You just won’t give up.” I know it’s too late now, but that doesn’t mean I can just give up. I want to believe there’s even a single grain of sand’s worth of a chance.
“But—”
“No ‘buts’ about it.”
The moment I uttered a whinge, it was shot down flat.
“The Queen is already waiting. Give it up.”
“But we never agreed to that!”
Every lament and complaint was shot down by Iris, one after another. Can’t she show a little mercy? Mercy, for heaven’s sake.
I let out a heavy sigh.
It’s been like this since last night, and I’ve been distracted ever since.
And no wonder—I had a meeting scheduled today with Iris’s mother, the Queen of this country. All arranged behind my back.
“She said she wanted to meet you, so a greeting is necessary, right?”
The princess who decided my schedule shows no sign of remorse.
I get it.
I know I can’t just easily refuse a request from the Queen. But I can’t help but cling to the hope that if it had been her daughter, I might have been able to find a way to politely decline.
“Are you really unable to do it?”
“I can’t.”
……Well, I guess clinging to that hope just got me kicked in the teeth.
“Haaa… This is such a drag.”
Why is it that lately, I keep running into these high-and-mighty royalty—the King and the Queen—people I’ve never had anything to do with before? Well, I know exactly why, don’t I?
I shot her a resentful glare, but she stuck out her finger and struck a victory pose. I don’t get it, but damn, she’s cute.
◆ ◆ ◆
As soon as I stepped out of the mansion, a carriage was already waiting to pick me up, and the coachman, with his polite demeanor, bowed deeply. I couldn’t exactly make a run for it… so I had no choice but to climb in, pushed from behind by Iris as she said, “Come on.”
I guess I just have to give up at this point.
As the carriage rolled along at a leisurely pace, I steeled myself and decided to ask Iris.
“What kind of person is the Queen?”
“You’ve finally given up.”
It was a little annoying to be treated like a child, as if to say, “Oh, come on.”
“Never mind that. Just tell me.”
“Please.”
“……Please.”
“Very well.”
Why is this princess so condescending? …Is it because she’s a princess? I convinced myself of that on my own. Unlike her usual baggy clothes, Iris is wearing a proper dress today.
It’s not a flashy one with puff sleeves or a billowing skirt, but a simple indigo dress with few embellishments. It suits Iris, who doesn’t care for the gaudy fashions popular among noble young ladies, but I wonder if crossing her legs in that skirt is a good idea. A glimpse of her white legs peeks out.
“Just like that”
“What do you mean?”
“……Normal?”
“Is that really a good way to describe a person?”
There’s no additional information. All I know is that she’s a queen.
When I looked at her with a “I’m disappointed, Your Highness” expression, even the bold Iris seemed to realize this wasn’t going to work, and she held up her hand to stop me.
“That’s not it. No, really, she’s just ordinary. Rather than a queen, she gives off the vibe of a gentle, married woman you’d see anywhere.”
“Why a married woman?”
It just got super suggestive all of a sudden.
“It’s fine, really. Anyway, what? She’s just not a queen, that person.”
“I asked about the queen, but now you’re telling me she isn’t one. What am I supposed to do?”
“Just go meet her yourself.”
I was hoping to figure out how to prepare myself or find a way to win her over before meeting her, but is that too much to ask? If anything, I’m even more clueless now than before we started talking.
“What am I supposed to do about this lingering unease?”
“It’s okay, we’re almost there.”
“Don’t tell me it’s ‘out of sight, out of mind’ now.”
I feel like I’ve been told to step onto a stage without a script or any rehearsal. I don’t want to play the lead role, but I’m being pushed forward because it’s my turn—pathetic me. The castle I looked up at after stepping down from the carriage seemed unnaturally huge.
◆ ◆ ◆
I let out a small sigh in front of the room I was led to.
Iris looked at me from the side, seeming surprised. I’m not a sideshow, you know.
“I’m nervous.”
“Of course you are.”
After all, I’m about to meet the Queen.
Even though I agreed, I rubbed my cheek with my index finger as if I couldn’t quite accept it.
“Come on. You’ve got the guts to break off a princess’s engagement right in front of His Majesty.”
“That’s a different situation, isn’t it?”
“How so?”
“How so, you ask?”
Well, it’s like this.
Back then, we weren’t engaged yet—or rather, I still had the right to refuse. Even now, we’re not exactly engaged, but it’s not like I’m just some viscount’s son meeting the princess for the first time either. After all, we’re living together.
It’s just that, due to circumstances, I couldn’t refuse.
It bugs me that I’m being swept along by the situation, and I want to do something about it, but as time goes on, I find myself growing attached and unable to refuse. I’m aware of that, and that’s exactly why I’m in this situation now.
I feel like I shouldn’t be taking such a half-hearted attitude. That’s probably why I have this feeling of guilt, and why I’m hesitating to meet the Queen… or so I think.
“…I’m just nervous, that’s all.”
“Ah, I see.”
Iris laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.
It was as if she understood emotions I didn’t even understand myself. It felt like she’d seen right through me, which was embarrassing… and somehow frustrating.
As I lifted my cheek, Iris reached her fingers—so white they seemed almost translucent—toward my collar.
“Your sash is crooked.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
“It’s fine.”
“See?” She smiled at me as if soothing a fussy child, and I found myself at a loss for words. Her delicate fingers brushed against the nape of my neck—a spot others rarely touch.
I craned my neck and looked up at an angle.
It was too late to tell her to stop now, but the ticklish sensation made it impossible for me to stay still.
“All done.”
It was a brief moment that felt unnervingly long.
“How’s that?” Iris taps her chest and grins, the corners of her mouth turning up. It’s around my neck. I can’t see it well myself even when I look down, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see the sash is neater than before.
“Well, it’s passable, I guess.”
“Cheeky.”
Even though I couldn’t bring myself to thank her honestly, Iris looked delighted, squinting her eyes as she teased me. Watching that expression, the tension I’d felt just moments ago seemed to melt away, and I found myself smiling back—
“Hehe, you two get along quite well, don’t you?”
“Ugh!?” My mouth twisted so hard I thought my cheeks might split. I placed my hand over my chest, feeling my heart pounding violently. I-it’s okay. It’s still there.
A cold sweat broke out all over my body, making me keenly aware of my own mortality.
When I gently turned my head, I saw a woman smiling cheerfully from the shadow of the slightly ajar door. Iris called out, “Ah,” to the woman, who exuded a gentle aura.
“The Queen.”
“Huh?”
This person?
What… a youthful woman with a homey vibe, the kind who might bring over a little something from next door?
She looked nothing like Iris, and just as Iris’s confusion was mounting, the woman who seemed to be the Queen placed a hand on her hip and said, “Iris-chan.”
“Call me Mom.”
The woman raised a finger in a “No” gesture, but no matter how Iris looked at her, she didn’t look like a queen at all.