The original plot has gone awry.
I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.
Right, transmigration stories always end up like this. In some sense, things are still on track.
At least the male lead and female lead still like each other, thank goodness.
Did Rick give up on Maria?
I didn't sense such a vibe from him…
As I was mulling over this, the sound of music drifted from afar, signaling the start of the banquet. Stained glass lanterns hung from poles, adding to the festive atmosphere, and occasional bursts of laughter suggested some sort of clown performance.
Is my sister dancing over there?
…Or grilling meat?
I forced myself to ignore the greasy imagery and headed toward the royal tent. Luckily, most people were at the banquet, so no one witnessed my mud-covered state.
According to the original story, the First Prince leads the banquet, the Second Prince drinks himself silly, and the Third Prince, dissatisfied with his daytime hunting haul, sneaks off with his servants for a night hunt while others enjoy the festivities.
…At least, that was how it should have gone.
"Your Highness?"
I blinked, doubting my eyes.
Tristan did have his servants with him, but instead of sneaking out, he appeared to be returning to the tent. Not only that, but he wasn't even carrying any hunting tools.
Tristan looked equally surprised to see me.
"Dory Redfield, what on earth happened to you?"
"Huh? Oh…"
I thought the darkness might conceal my muddy state, but Tristan, with ghostly precision, spotted every clump of dirt clinging to my clothes and pointed them out.
I half-honestly replied, "I slipped."
Would he believe me?
Tristan answered, "How many times?"
"…."
"Can you even walk properly?"
"What do you take me for?"
"A woman so frail that a few accidental steps on her feet by a young duke sent her bedridden for days."
"Ugh, that was…"
"Never mind."
Tristan cut me off, silencing me, and gestured to his servants.
"Good work. Deliver the next task to the field team, then have your meal."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The servants scattered.
Tristan, are you seriously not going hunting? Do you even know how to praise your staff? And…are you actually handling work?
I stared at him, dumbfounded, as his servants dispersed.
Then, suddenly, Tristan draped one arm over my shoulder. His voice sounded less like speaking and more like holding back frustration.
"Which path did you fall on?"
"Why…do you ask?"
"Because your fall suggests someone neglected to maintain the roads properly."
"…."
Today must have been a day for everyone to slip and fall—male lead, female lead included—so they'd end up spending the night alone together.
The closest that happened to me was when my father stepped in dung and fell, and I slipped trying to carry someone on my back, but still.
"It rained. Slipping was inevitable."
"It was not inevitable. Roads meant for people must be properly maintained. …Whoever thought they could brush off a warning as needless fuss is sorely mistaken."
"…Excuse me?"
Wait, was I the one who warned him?
Had Tristan been supervising road maintenance because of what I said?
"Did you pay attention because I told you to be careful of the muddy roads?"
That was just an offhand comment!
Tristan frowned.
"Was that an empty remark?"
Um.
"No."
"Judging by your state, you don't seem to grasp the weight of your own words. Forget about dancing with your fiancé at the banquet. Return to the Redfield camp—"
"I wasn't planning to attend the banquet anyway! Besides, I came to tell you something!"
"Hm?"
"I noticed that the smaller tents tucked into corners appear vulnerable to security breaches. For future events, I'd like to request that no tents be placed in blind spots."
I was referring to Maria's small tent, shoved into a leftover space simply because it was small.
Well, in the original plot, it was unavoidable. The female lead had to be in danger for the secondary male lead to heroically rescue her.
But the plot had derailed, and the secondary male lead hadn't shown up. Now, the cracks created solely for narrative convenience needed to be fixed.
Tristan tilted his head.
"Did something happen?"
"No. It's just that my friend, who's attending the hunt with a small party, seems uneasy about the possibility of something happening. I'm voicing her concerns on her behalf."
"What kind of possibility?"
"Like…a wild beast wandering into camp."
I stopped myself from mentioning the possibility of something worse than beasts—beastly people.
It would be troublesome if I were interrogated.
'I managed to wrap this up without Alex finding out about me.'
I don't want to make Maria anxious, either.
Nothing happened tonight.
Just like in the original story, Alex will be remembered as an idiot who chased a rabbit and fell off a cliff by himself.
Tristan responded, "Understood. Since we can't create new space in the camp immediately, I'll tighten the patrol intervals."
"Thank you, Your Highness!"
"But you'll need to answer one more thing."
"Pardon?"
He suddenly said something cryptic and then—
Tristan abruptly grabbed my sleeve and pushed it up.
"Your Highness!"
"Are you absolutely certain nothing happened?"
In the flickering firelight, his eyes glinted like a predator's. His gaze landed on… The arm Alex had grabbed desperately just before he fell.
Was there an injury? I hadn't even noticed in all the chaos!
"I-I'm fine. It must've gotten scratched when I fell—"
"I see."
"Or maybe just a— Kyaa!"
Tristan suddenly scooped me up into his arms.
What is he doing?!
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"I've realized something."
"Realized what?!"
"That you're clearly not in your right mind."
"I am perfectly in my right mind!"
"Then save such claims for after you've taken care of your wounds."
"I can take care of them myself if you'll just put me down!"
I struggled with all my might, but Tristan refused to let me go.
Before long, we arrived at a pristine white tent belonging to the royal camp. The air inside smelled faintly of dried herbs.
A middle-aged man dressed in white jumped to his feet.
"Your Highness Tristan?"
"She's injured. Look after her immediately."
"This isn't an injury serious enough for all this fuss!"
My protests were, of course, ignored.
The man, who appeared to be a physician, was soon joined by assistant maids. They dusted off the mud and began cleaning the exposed areas, revealing Alex's handiwork in sharp detail.
Wow… He practically dug a trench in my arm.
Tristan, with a sardonic edge to his voice, remarked, "My fiancée seems to need a vocabulary lesson. This isn't a 'scratch'—'gouged' would be a better word."
However, his twitching lips betrayed no hint of humor. His expression grew colder as he turned to the physician and asked,
"How dangerous is it? Can it be treated quickly? Will it heal completely?"
"Don't worry too much, Your Highness. The wound is large but straightforward. The bleeding has stopped, and once it's disinfected, it will heal fine."
"…Understood."
Tristan stepped back, though his expression remained clouded with concern.
As the physician and maids continued cleaning and disinfecting my arm, I noticed Tristan watching the wound intently every time I glanced his way.
Occasionally, the physician would say, "This may sting a little," but I was so distracted by Tristan's intense gaze that I barely felt any pain.
"All done. Don't overexert yourself for a few days, and if you develop a fever, call the court physician immediately."
"Thank you."
"You were lucky to come here so quickly. It's not a serious injury, so don't worry too much."
The maids left the tent, and the physician returned to his desk. I leapt up from the bed where I'd been treated—
"Hup!"
—Or at least I tried. Tristan pressed me back down with his forefinger against my forehead.
Plop.
Back on the bed, I looked up at him as he said, "And where do you think you're going?"
"Well, the treatment's done, so…"
"Didn't you hear what the physician just said?"
Oh, I heard perfectly.
"He said it's not serious, so there's no need to worry—"
"He also said the wound is large and you shouldn't overexert yourself."
…
Are we just selectively hearing the parts we want?
I wanted to sit up again, but Tristan was leaning over me, effectively pinning me down. I had no choice but to stay put; if I moved, our faces would be uncomfortably close.
Why is he doing this?
Resigned, I relaxed back into the bed. Honestly, lying down wasn't so bad.
Tristan, seemingly satisfied, stepped back. Yet it was clear he had no intention of leaving me alone.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I tripped. My arm must've gotten scratched by a thick branch or something."
"If it were truly nothing, most people would've dusted themselves off and carried on. But this lady chose to ignore her injury and came to report camp safety issues instead."
"…."
"Do you really want me to believe that nothing happened?"
"Yes."
I answered firmly.
I wanted this to end quietly and safely.
Alex would settle down after this, and I'd be the only one who had to go through any trouble.
Tristan's lips twitched.
His response was…
"For now, I'll take your word for it."
For now?
That phrasing doesn't sound promising.
But I couldn't argue. I nodded, though unease lingered.
And then, suddenly, I remembered the real reason I had left my tent early in the first place.
"Oh, right, Your Highness!"
"Yes?"
"I meant to… though it's a bit late, give you a gift."