I wanted nothing more than to just grab the two of them and drop them into a boat myself.
But everything must follow a proper sequence, and people complain less when their stomachs are full.
Maria pointed ahead at a round wooden table nestled under the shade of a zelkova tree.
“Shall we have our picnic there?”
“Sounds good.”
Normally, when nobles went on a picnic, their maids would carry the baskets, but since this was a more private gathering, Arthur and Tristan each carried one instead.
The baskets were large and heavy, filled with tableware and food.
Concerned, I asked, “It’s heavy, isn’t it?”
Both of them answered at the same time.
“No, it’s fine.”
And then they started walking toward the table... only, their pace seemed to be getting slightly faster with each step.
Are they seriously competing with each other right now?
Whatever. Just don’t shake the food!
Fortunately, nothing too delicate was inside, so the sandwiches and sweet wine made it to the table without any major disasters.
The wine glasses clinked together with a crisp, refreshing sound. Above us, leaves rustled in the wind; in the distance, birds chirped. It was the very definition of an idyllic picnic.
The only problem was that I couldn’t simply sit back and enjoy it.
“Ah, Arthur! You just spilled cookie crumbs—spilled them.”
“Th—thank you.”
I watched Arthur and Maria carefully over the rim of my wine glass.
These two aren’t just stuck because they’re shy.
They had been each other’s first loves, but the real issue was that during that beautiful period of their youth, they had also been friends.
They’re like a couple who realized their romantic feelings too late after being friends for ten years. Now, they’re too used to the ‘friend’ dynamic to move forward.
Do they really need some dramatic “trapped together overnight at the bottom of a cliff” event to make progress?
If they had only been friends, fine—but you two kissed goodbye when you parted at sixteen!
They’re full-grown adults in an officially recognized relationship. What’s so hard about holding hands—?
“...”
That was when I suddenly noticed something.
The tip of Tristan’s finger was touching mine.
Not holding. Not resting. Just barely touching.
Am I taking up too much space? Is this his way of making me move?
I shifted slightly to the side, putting a bit of distance between us.
For a moment, it felt like Tristan was looking at me, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze. We were already going to be stuck in an awkward staring contest later in the boat—no need to start early.
Right now, there was something I wanted to ask Maria.
“Maria. How is everyone at the baron’s estate? I really appreciated their hospitality last time.”
“They’re all doing well. They were so happy to see you.”
“And Rick?”
I tried my best to sound casual.
My priority today was setting up Arthur and Maria, but there was something bothering me about Rick.
The day I had gone to the Sacred Salon to gather information on date locations...
Rick, a regular at the salon, had arrived much later than usual.
At the time, I assumed he had just been busy. He did a lot of grunt work under the title of “bodyguard” at the baron’s estate.
But when I cheerfully waved at him—
“...”
From behind his skull mask, the moment our eyes met, he had snapped his head away.
If it had stopped there, I could have brushed it off as my imagination and gone over to say hello.
But then he had shaken his head at the approaching server and left the salon entirely.
He had deliberately avoided me.
If we had a normal relationship, I would have assumed I had done something wrong. But I couldn’t recall saying anything that might have upset him.
Which left me with only one possibility.
Did he figure out my identity?
But that didn’t make sense.
The salon’s music might have masked voices, but it wouldn’t have hidden speech patterns or mannerisms. Even so...
I was deliberately imitating an obnoxious noblewoman every time I spoke at the salon.
Even if he had noticed something odd about my mannerisms for a moment, it shouldn’t have been enough to connect the dots to me.
Unless, of course, he had been constantly thinking about me in the first place.
Maria hesitated before answering.
“Hmm, well, he’s healthy, but...”
“But?”
“Just a little—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Tristan suddenly spilled his wine.
Directly onto my sandwich plate.
With a completely flat voice, he muttered, “Oh dear. My hand slipped.”
“...”
What an incredibly unconvincing performance.
And his flimsy excuse continued.
“I must be a little tipsy. Wait, there should be another roast beef sandwich—”
“Rick is fine, but he’s developed a strange new habit,” Maria said, cutting him off effortlessly.
As Tristan reached for the basket, she explained without giving me time to react.
“He suddenly can’t stand sweet things. He used to love them, but now he avoids them completely.”
“...Ah. That’s the only difference?”
“Yeah. He says he hates anything sticky.”
I had no idea what could have caused such a change, but honestly, I was relieved.
For a moment, I was afraid she’d say his eyes had turned sharp and dangerous or that he’d started mumbling about wanting to kill someone.
Beside me, Tristan added dryly, “Sounds like he has a cavity. Shall I recommend a good dentist?”
Maria clasped her hands together. “I’d appreciate it, Your Highness. I was wondering if he was too embarrassed to say anything to his friends.”
“Hiding a small embarrassment can often lead to a much greater one. I sincerely hope Lady Meyer’s dear friend recovers soon.”
For some reason, Tristan looked way too amused as he said that.
How awful.
Does this man have no empathy for humanity?
I should send Rick something good for his teeth later.
After we finished eating, we took a leisurely walk around the lake to digest.
And then we arrived at today’s main event—the two-person rowboats.
A friendly-looking older man waved at us.
“Would you like to rent a boat? There’s nothing like spending a quiet moment together on the lake!”
Of course we would.
But Arthur’s face turned slightly pink.
“Just the two of us...? Uh, that boat looks rather small. It might be dangerous. I think I’ll pass.”
“Me too...” Maria said, suddenly flustered.
Are you two seriously getting embarrassed over the phrase ‘spending time alone’?! How are you ever going to make progress?! It’s not like this is some locked room—it’s an open-air boat!
Meanwhile, Tristan echoed Arthur’s words almost exactly.
“I respect the young duke’s concern for Lady Meyer’s safety. A lady should not be put at risk.”
No, no, no. Are you really going to just eat, walk in circles, and then leave?
Do I have to outright say I want to go on the boat? Even then, I doubt that would get them to go.
As I debated my next move, the boat rental man met my eyes.
Then, meaningfully, he nodded.
And he spoke.
“Well, yes, boats can be a bit risky.”
Are you trying to sell us on this or scare us away?
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But he wasn’t done.
“In particular, the oars are quite heavy. It’s common for men who try to impress their ladies by rowing to end up dropping them. Young people these days don’t seem to train their bodies...”
At the mention of training, both Arthur and Tristan visibly flinched.
Before anyone could respond, the old man pressed on.
“There’s even a hidden garden only accessible by boat. But even the men who think they’re strong enough often fail to make it there.”
“...”
“It would be quite the achievement to see every part of the garden. Such a shame...”
At that point, I stepped in.
“There’s a hidden garden? That sounds interesting. But is it safe?”
“Safe? Of course! The boats are brand new and extremely stable. The only question is whether the gentlemen here have the strength and stamina to row all the way...”
“I think we should go,” Tristan said immediately.
Arthur hesitated only a moment longer before straightening.
“If it’s not dangerous, I’ll go. Maria, would you join me?”
Maria still looked uncertain, but I nodded firmly.
“Yes, let’s go.”