The Eldest Daughter Walks Down The Flower Path - Chapter 193
Chapter 193
Translator: Yonnee
—
It felt like plunging into a honey-filled jug overflowing with golden liquor. Radis’s head was spinning, her face kept blushing, her tongue kept getting tangled, and she found herself blurting out words that shouldn’t have been said.
In the end, she went beyond saying things that shouldn’t be said and spilled her innermost thoughts.
“…If you were a noble lady, Lord Olivier, I would have offered my sword.”
Her words made Olivier burst into laughter.
“Ah, Radis!”
He held his belly and even crouched down, chuckling heartily.
“Please, stop being so adorable! I might really die!”
Radis’s face turned redder and redder, now nearing a deep crimson.
“I-I’m being serious!”
Sitting on the floor and laughing, Olivier finally looked up at her.
He looked at her with eyes as familiar as plums, her once-blushed face now fully turning plum-colored.
In the end, he had no choice but to roll on the floor laughing.
Since the prince couldn’t roll on the floor alone, Radis bit her lips and also went down on the ground, down on one knee.
She fanned herself to cool down her reddened face and mumbled.
“I’m serious…”
After a while, after a hearty laugh, Olivier, with tired violet eyes, lay down on the green grass, breathing out a long sigh.
“Haah…”
With moist, violet irises, Olivier looked up at Radis and said,
“I’ve never laughed like this since I was born.”
Radis grumbled.
“I’ve never seen anyone laugh like this either. It’s really too much. And it’s not even a joke. I was being sincere…”
Olivier rolled on the grass once before propping himself up to meet Radis’s eye level.
“Really? Are you making an oath for me like knights do?”
“…Not exactly like that. I’m a knight too, although I might not look like it.”
Olivier blinked.
“You’re a knight?”
“Yes. It may not seem that way, but I was officially knighted not long ago.”
Radis saw amusement disappear from Olivier’s face, and his lips quivered in shock.
She felt bewildered.
‘Is it such a surprise?’
Perhaps Olivier, who was surrounded by great knights at the Imperial Palace, might have reservations about a woman being knighted. In fact, there were some conservative nobles who felt that way.
At that moment, Olivier asked, “Who?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who knighted you?”
As she was caught off guard by his probing tone, Radis’s pupils quivered in confusion.
“Uh, it was the Marquis…”
Upon hearing her words, Olivier let out a low sigh.
“Yves Russell—he made an oath with you in the presence of the sacred flame?”
“Y-Yes…?”
“……”
Olivier raised his hand and gently touched Radis’s hair.
She saw various emotions flicker in his violet eyes, like overlapping stained glass.
She couldn’t decipher each one, but one thing was clear.
His eyes, now filled with mixed emotions, were the most human and beautiful among all the gazes she had ever seen from him.
Olivier spoke, his voice as dark and sweet as chocolate.
“What do you think of him. Of Yves Russell?”
Lost in his enchanting eyes and sweet voice that could melt like honey, Radis snapped back to reality after repeating his question in her mind a couple of times.
“What? T-The Marquis?”
Radis was flustered, and her eyes darted around.
‘He’s generally pompous, both inside and out. He might be trying to show off, but I’m not sure. He’s carrying a lot of weight for his age. But honestly, he’s just a kid at heart.’
But if she said that, Olivier might come to despise Yves. So, Radis forced herself to respond vaguely with a nervous smile.
“He’s… a gracious person.”
Olivier’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Right. I owe him a great favor as well. After all, he introduced me to you.”
He lowered his head and slowly rose to his feet, standing upright in that spot.
Therefore, Radis couldn’t see his blurred face.
He brushed the dirt off his coat and spoke in a somewhat dry tone.
“I intend to reward him sufficiently for that.”
Radis didn’t know what expression to make in response to his words. She was still flustered.
Observing Radis’s perplexed face, Olivier changed his expression.
He smiled reassuringly as if trying to put her at ease and said,
“I will give him what he wants. So, you don’t need to feel any obligation toward him.”
* * *
Yves Russell asked,
“What’s this?”
He pointed to a sack on his desk with his chin.
His aide, Marcel, replied simply.
“They’re letters, sir.”
Yves Russell casually opened the sack.
As Marcel had mentioned, it was filled with letters.
“To be precise, they’re letters of greetings and requests for an invitation to the Marquis’s estate.”
Yves Russell’s lips twitched uncomfortably.
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