She never imagined that a morning without lies would come.
Estella stood by the window of her room, watching the morning light. It had been three days since she returned from the baronial estate. Mille's words still lingered on her mind, "The scariest thing is that... I don't know if my tears are real or not." That voice echoed repeatedly in the morning stillness.
At the same time, so did her own voice when she had told Leonhardt "They were real."
Her lady-in-waiting knocked on the door.
"My lady. The Royal Council's decision has been officially announced."
Estella turned from the window.
"These are the sanctions imposed on the Elbach Company: they have been permanently rejected from applying to become a royal purveyor; they will be monitored by the Ministry of Commerce since they used unreasonable terms to exert their influence over noble houses, and they will be permanently banned from entering court."
her lady in waiting held out a letter. Estella took it and read through it.
Ludwig Elbach. Mille's biological father. The man who had sent his daughter into the court as a pawn, pressured noble houses through lending relationships, and schemed to gain economic influence over the court through the status of royal purveyor.
He hadn't been arrested or exiled because he hadn't directly acted, but his company's reputation was ruined and his path to the court was permanently closed. The influence he had built up in the grey zone was dismantled within the same system.
"And..."
her lady in waiting lowered her voice.
"It seems that the Elbach baronial house has retracted Lady Millefeuille's adoption. They had apparently done so to preserve their family name."
Estella's hand stopped above the letter.
Mille had returned to being a commoner.
She had lost her standing as an adopted daughter of a baronial house, and her connection to noble society was completely severed. That was the baronial house's decision, a consequence brought about by Ludwig's schemes. It wasn't a punishment that Mille had brought upon herself but the outcome of her getting caught up in her father's schemes.
But that girl had made another choice. She had defied her father's orders and refused to write the letter. She had said "I can't write it." That quiet refusal was the first, and perhaps the significant expression of will that she had ever shown.
"I hear that Lady Millefeuille will not be going to her father's company, but will be living in a different town."
Her lady-in-waiting added that she had heard it from another maid.
She had left Ludwig's control as well.
Estella folded the letter and let out a quiet sigh.
Afternoon. By the corridor windows.
Leonhardt stood with documents in hand. The usual place. But what he handed over was not just documents.
"My brother made a request to His Majesty."
Leonhardt's voice was low and flat. His usual voice for stating facts. But the coldness that normally crept in when he spoke of his brother was slightly less pronounced today.
"'I wish to retrain my judgment.' He requested re-education as Crown Prince on his own."
Estella looked up.
Alvin. That proud man. Of his own will.
"Learning the full extent of the company's schemes must have played a major factor in his decision. Knowing that Millefeuille had been a pawn, knowing that he himself had been used..."
Leonhardt paused for a moment.
"It seems he's decided to confront why his judgment was wrong."
Estella listened in silence.
That day in the garden. The day Alvin had tried to condemn Estella. On that day, Alvin had been so driven by his feelings that he hadn't realised that he was being used.
And now, Alvin himself had admitted that. Not out of pride, but as self-reflection brought forward by being confronted with the facts.
"Did His Majesty accept?"
"Yes. The Crown Prince's education falls under His Majesty's sole prerogative. The re-education will officially begin."
Leonhardt straightened the documents.
"This brings the matters regarding my brother to a close."
There was no contempt for his brother in that voice. It was different from the cold detachment he had once felt when he believed that people who act on their emotions end up like his brother. He was simply accepting the facts as they were.
The exchange of documents was finished.
But Leonhardt didn't leave.
"One more thing."
The tone of his voice changed. It wasn't his administrative voice. It was close to the voice he had used when he told Estella that he didn't want to lie to her.
"Your report on the meeting with Millefeuille. You said 'They were real.'"
"Yes."
"As promised."
Estella tilted her head.
"Promised?"
"I believe I said, if you're going to cry, make them real."
Estella's memories brought back that evening in the garden after it had been decided that her engagement would be annulled. The moment when Leonhardt had said "If you're going to cry, make them real," and Estella had answered "I shall do my best."
"You never specified it had to be in front of you, Your Highness."
"True."
Leonhardt paused for a second.
"Next time, make it in front of me."
Estella's heart gave one strong beat.
Leonhardt, who had taken a step back in the garden. Leonhardt, who couldn't step forward because of his fear that acting on emotion meant becoming like his brother.
He was now trying to retake that step.
Estella had gone to see Mille without any rational reason and returned after shedding real tears. She had chosen to act on emotion without fear. Seeing that, this person must have realised that acting on emotion was not necessarily foolish.
Estella opened her mouth.
"Your Highness. I..."
She searched for the right words to say.
The perfect line wouldn't come. The skill she had honed in her past life's service work, "choosing the optimal words," produced nothing, just as it had on that day in the garden.
Normally, words came easily. She could craft the perfect response tailored to the other person in an instant. Ten years of training had made that possible.
But now, in front of this person, what she needed was not the best words but true ones.
"...I still cannot put it into words properly."
Her voice was soft.
"But the one thing I know for certain is that I do not wish to lie in front of you."
It was incomplete. Not enough to call a confession. Too shapeless to call affection.
But they were words without lies.
Leonhardt said nothing for several minutes.
He was looking at Estella's face. Not with the eyes of the observer from the day they first met in the corridor. Nor with the cold eyes from the day he saw through her crocodile tears.
"That is enough."
His voice was quiet.
"I... feel the same."
Estella's eyes grew hot.
She nearly cried but she didn't. There was no need to.
It was a relationship that had begun with lies. Her crocodile tears had been seen through, they had joined hands knowing it was built on lies, and they had fought together as fake allies. After all of that, what existed here and now was not a lie.
Given the royal family's reputation, formal procedures would be required to advance to an official relationship. A marriage between the former Crown Prince's fiancée and his brother would make it seem like the younger brother stole his fiancée. A cooling-off period and a formal proposal of engagement would be needed. Without following those procedures, rumors of them having an affair might ignite.
They couldn't move forward immediately.
But the feelings between them had been confirmed without lies.
That was enough. For now.
Evening. Her lady-in-waiting brewed her some tea.
Estella sat in the chair by the window with an embroidery hoop on her lap. Her hands moved the needle calmly.
Her lady-in-waiting brought one more report.
"Regarding Lady Millefeuille... it seems she has not returned to her father's company and has begun living in a town far from the capital. According to a servant from the baronial house, she is looking for work as a seamstress at a small tailor's shop."
Estella's hand paused for a moment, then resumed.
Mille had been expelled from the court, had her adoption withdrawn, and returned to being a commoner. She had left her father's company as well.
But the words she had spoken to Estella during their meeting, "I couldn't tell what my true feelings were anymore," showed that she was trying to reclaim her own emotions. From the day she refused to follow her father's orders, she realised that she was not a tool.
Where that would lead, Estella didn't know. Nor did she need to.
Estella moved her embroidery needle.
Outside the window, the evening light was dyeing the academy courtyard. The bell tower rang, announcing the evening hour. Its low, lingering echo faintly trembled against the windowpane before fading away.
Back then, when Mille's tears had made her body tense, when she had to guard herself against Alvin's words, when every toll of the bell had set her on edge, Estella had thought only of standing on the same stage as Mille. Cry. Before the other person, more skillfully than them. That had been her only weapon.
Not anymore.
She had stepped off that stage and chosen where to stand on her own two feet.
It started with crocodile tears. Trust was born from admitting the lie. Feelings budded within that trust. She feared those feelings, ran from them, and yet in the end chose words without lies.
They were incomplete words. A feeling without shape.
But they were real.
Estella set down her needle and looked out the window.
The evening sky was shifting from pale orange to indigo.
"That is enough."
Remembering that voice, Estella smiled.
It was not an act.