The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 64
One day, Lysian, who had finished her work early, handed Aslan a package through Dandelion.
“Put this on, Aslan.”
“What is this?”
Aslan asked as he examined the package wrapped in silk. Lysian answered lightly.
“Aren’t you starting to feel cooped up? Let’s go get some fresh air.”
Not understanding why fresh air would require a change of clothes, Aslan hesitated before opening the package. Inside was clothing so plain it bordered on shabby.
“For going to the garden, this outfit is… Isn’t this casual wear?”
“When did I say we were going to the garden to get fresh air?”
Lysian smiled brightly, mischief brimming in her expression.
At first glance, the clothes seemed so old they felt like rags, but upon a closer look, they weren’t so bad. Back when Aslan was a general in Heiban, he had worn plenty of outfits like this.
It seemed his eyes had grown accustomed to extravagance after wearing luxurious clothes for so long. Moreover, the silk wrapping the clothes was so ornate that it made the plainness of the outfit stand out even more in comparison.
Aslan alternated his gaze between the clothes and Lysian. There was only one explanation for this situation. Surely, the Queen—Lysian herself—wasn’t planning to sneak out of the castle with him alone? Aslan, flustered, asked,
“Wait. Surely, you’re not serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. What else would I be?”
“Steward, is this really acceptable?”
Taken aback by Lysian’s nonchalant and shameless response, Aslan turned to Dandelion for support. Dandelion let out a long sigh, one filled with anguish and exhaustion—a sigh that conveyed his complete resignation. He muttered as if giving up,
“Well… Her Majesty is quite resolute. And since Sir Yilmaz will be accompanying her, I suppose it’ll be fine. The capital of Florea is safe.”
Even Dandelion, whom he had trusted, sided with Lysian.
Was this really fine? In the past, Aslan had always been the one to “cause trouble.” It had always been those around him asking if things were truly okay, and Aslan had confidently assured them that they were. But ever since meeting Lysian, the roles had reversed. Her single-minded, unwavering actions left Aslan no choice but to second-guess everything.
In an uneasy voice, Aslan added, “I’m not even the Crown Prince yet. What if I kidnap you and take you out of Florea?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Lysian scoffed, brushing off his words without even entertaining them. Aslan covered his face with his palm. Of course, he had no intention of doing such a thing.
What Aslan truly wanted to convey was just how dangerous it would be for her to leave the castle like this.
Lysian patted Aslan’s shoulder and said, “Everyone who knows you already understands that you wouldn’t do such a thing.”
Beside her, Dandelion nodded in agreement.
Still clutching the plain clothes, Aslan stared at Lysian in a daze.
“So don’t say things like that, Aslan. You are already an excellent Crown Prince.”
Her unwavering trust struck a chord deep within him, making his chest tighten with emotion. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.
Just as Dandelion had said, with him by her side, what was there to worry about? He was, after all, the Black Lion of the battlefield.
Lysian’s soft, cherry blossom-colored light pink hair was anything but common. Her appearance was so unmistakably regal that she gathered her hair into a bun and concealed it beneath a hood.
The woman who usually draped herself in flowing silks and adorned herself with jewels now wore simple, colorful cotton garments, making her finally appear her actual age.
Aslan wore a shirt and cotton trousers, along with sturdy leather boots. A sword was firmly strapped to his waist, and for additional precaution, he carried a dagger tucked over his shirt. When Lysian pouted and asked if he was preparing for a war, Aslan firmly insisted that this was the only way he felt at ease.
Leaving the royal palace was surprisingly simple.
Before they knew it, they had exited the palace and started walking lightly along the road. Even as the evening sun set, the capital remained lively and bustling. The cheerful sound of music echoed even to the outskirts, filling the air with a festive atmosphere. A smile spread across Aslan’s face.
“A festival, it seems.”
“Indeed. Florea has frequent festivals. Today is the Apple Festival. There will be plenty of apple pies, apple juice… and lots of snacks to enjoy.”
As she spoke, Lysian skipped forward in a large stride, her excitement evident in her quickened steps. The embroidery on the hem of her skirt, which came up to her calves, swayed joyfully with her movements.
Aslan spoke with concern, “Don’t run too much. If you fall, it’ll be trouble.”
“Haha, there’s no way I’d fall just from this—!”
No sooner had she spoken than she slipped on a loose pebble. Lysian wobbled, and Aslan urgently reached out to steady her. His arm securely caught her, keeping her from falling.
“G-goodness, that startled me.”
“The roads here aren’t like the immaculately maintained palace grounds. You must be cautious while walking. Otherwise, we might’ve had to return to the palace right after leaving due to an injury.”
