The Squire on a White Horse

The Prince Will Not Come

I was past the age of dreaming of a prince on a white horse. Now that I had grown up, I had to live in reality. 

After all, this body had endured difficult operations that no child could have endured.

I finally recovered the health of a regular person.

I didn’t need to spend more than half a year in bed, or fall asleep for a week after a short walk in the garden.

The days of just suffering are over.

I was supposed to have a great reward for enduring God’s ordeal.

And yet, a little past my nineteenth birthday…

Mother was crying. Father drooped over while holding his forehead.

“Florence, listen to me carefully. You are… incapable of bearing children…”

A few days after the examination, which I was never told the reason for, my parents called me in and told me that I had a fatal physical defect as the daughter of a nobleman.

All the offers I had received from the capital were, of course, canceled.

The healthy and normal life that awaited me disappeared in an instant.

Ever since that day, I have had no energy to do anything.

All day long I lay on the bench in the warm room, looking at the cloudy sky as if it were a reflection of my heart.

“This is what it’s like to have dark clouds hanging over you…”

I muttered and heard a troubled laugh from just behind me.

I turned and looked up at the owner of the voice and said it was no laughing matter.

Standing with his hands behind his back, Stanley’s eyes showed more concern than I had expected, and I felt sorry for him and looked forward again.

He had taken a rare day off and had been by my side all morning.

“My Lady, please be careful with the needle.”

A hand reached out from behind me and put the threaded needle, which was lying on my lap, back into the needle basket. I put the needle in my hand next to it and then leaned back against the bench again.

“‘Oh, I don’t feel like doing this. I don’t feel motivated. I’ve worked so hard on this and no one will wear it.”

The white fabric above my knees was a dress shirt I was making for a man who had almost become my fiancé. I didn’t need it anymore, but my tutor told me to finish it for practice.

I lifted the fabric, the arms still attached.

“Father is too large but I can’t make any more alterations, and if I make one for you, I’m sure you’ll ask me to make one for all of you.”

The fabric was a little too loose for a butler. I didn’t want to start a rumor by giving it to some random young footman.

A young man with a status from a house would not have a problem if I gave him a small gift.

Thinking and thinking, I turned around. Oh my God, it’s already dark here.

“What about you? I can give this to you.”

I stood up and held the shirt in my hands in front of Stanley’s body.

The size didn’t seem to differ much from what I could see.

It’s just that the shape of the collar was pretentious, as if it was made popular by the current king, who was famous for being a fashionista. It would not be Stanley’s favorite.

“I’ll simplify the shape of the collar. Take it.”

He pressed the shirt against his upper body. The carefully bleached fabric would make Stanley’s face look a little brighter, as he always had light circles under his eyes.

He looked a little confused at the suggestion, but quickly shook his head.

“Well, thank you very much.”

I looked at him in surprise.

He had such an uptight personality. I thought he would try to refuse the gift of clothes from his master’s daughter. I was going to use my authority to force him to accept it no matter how he refused, but it seemed he would.

“Good. Then I’ll finish it up before the next formal engagement is made.”

I quickly unraveled the freshly sewn collar with a pair of thread scissors.

Stanley was silent, then asked in a slightly subdued voice, “What do you think?

“…The formal marriage proposal?”

“‘You’ve had a few offers from people older than your father, haven’t you?”

“…Who told you about them?”

“The whole house is talking about it.”