Chapter 9

At dawn, the Crown Prince and his party stormed into the palace like a bolt of lightning. Attil, who roughly opened the door to the Black Dragon Room, froze in place.

“...What is this?”

A boy of similar age with light beige hair, who was standing behind him, said.

“Wow, could this be Your Highness’s taste? It’s so cute.”

“Pai, shut up.”

Attil roughly pushed him away, opened the waiting room door, and stopped. The living room was not dark.

Thanks to Lirika’s insistence that the lights must always be on, candles were lit everywhere, and the fireplace was burning brightly, driving away the early morning chill.

The decorations on the walls sparkled, reflecting the fireplace light.

‘Welcome back.’

Attil stared at the words cut out of colored paper.

“The smell is good too. They’ve brought so many flowers. I didn’t even realize spring had come while coming down from the north.”

The beige-haired boy—Pai—followed in and kept exclaiming in amazement.

“Who did this?”

“Wow, this is really cute.”

Pai picked up a teddy bear dressed as a butler from the living room table and waved it in front of his face.

“Welcome back, Your Highness. From the handwriting, it seems to be the cousin of the new rumor.”

“Give it here.”

Attil snatched the invitation from his hand. After reading it, he laughed coldly.

“I’ll go.”

Pai looked up in surprise. Bran, who followed in, looked around.

“I’ve never been welcomed like this before. Should I tell them to prepare a meal? Or do you want to bathe?”

“Both are fine.”

Attil waved his hand.

“You’re accepting the invitation?”

Pai asked again.

“Yeah.”

Attil threw the invitation to Pai.

“I’m going. You can play with your dolls to your heart’s content. You’ll come to your senses after standing in the blazing sun for a few hours.”

“Wow, you’re a villain.”

Pai frowned. It’s not a good sign for a close aide to make an enemy without knowing who they are.

Before Pai could say anything, Attil waved his hand.

“I’m going to sleep now. Don’t disturb me until I wake up.”

As he went inside, Pai sighed and looked at the invitation.

Bran tilted his head.

“You must be hungry.”

“Yeah. I’m starving too. But, Bran.”

“Yeah.”

Pai grinned and turned to Bran. Pai, a direct descendant of the Sander family, was Attil’s companion and close aide.

He pointed to the decorations and the words welcoming them.

“Did Bran know about this?”

“I told them we might arrive around here. And that you like sweet things. But that’s all.”

“Hmm.”

Pai picked up a cookie from the table. The crunch was excellent.

The fatigue from riding for so long melted away with the sweets.

‘They’re not stale and are well-made.’

Bran didn’t know the exact arrival date either. That was up to Attil.

Yet, the flowers were fresh, and the cookies were crisp. The teapot he touched was still warm.

They must have been constantly refreshed. It showed a lot of attention to detail.

‘I wonder what the princess is thinking. No, this isn’t the princess but the influence of the Empress. I need to gather some information. I’ve been away from the palace for too long.’

That’s why he missed the unprecedented event of the Emperor’s wedding.

Pai tasted all the cookies on the plate. None were poisoned, and none tasted strange.

He looked at the teddy bear and put the invitation back on its legs.

‘I’m sleepy too.’

He had driven the horses all night until dawn. He knew about Attil’s paranoid anxiety but hoped he wouldn’t overwork his aides.

‘I’m not as tough as a wolf.’

Pai grumbled and headed to his room.

* * *

Lirika woke up at dawn. She got up from bed, disheveled.

‘Hmm. Has His Highness arrived? Has the tea gone cold? Should I refresh the cookies?’

Lately, her first thought when she wakes up is about the Crown Prince.

Lirika got out of bed and put on a robe.

‘I’ll just go check if the cookies or tea have gone cold.’

She had asked the maids, but she needed to check herself from time to time.

If the master doesn’t care, the servants won’t either.

Lirika put on slippers, paused, and opened the secret door. She didn’t want to wake Brin.

She went out through the servants’ corridor and entered the Black Dragon Room through the same corridor.

“!!”

Lirika froze as she opened the door and entered the living room.

Someone was sitting at the living room table, eating cookies and drinking tea.

Their eyes met.

Lirika instantly recognized who it was. She had asked Brin several times what the Crown Prince looked like.

Meeting the Crown Prince in such a state.

‘No!’

She mentally screamed and bowed deeply. She needed to come up with an excuse. Lirika said softly.

“I came to see if you needed more tea or cookies.”

I’m a maid. I’m a maid.

Please.

I hope he didn’t recognize me.

Despite her desperate hope, Attil also instantly recognized her.

If it wasn’t the princess, he would have vomited the cookies he had just eaten.

Looking at the bowed brown head, Attil suppressed a curse.

‘Why is she here?’

Showing him the hastily prepared cookies. He was hungry from riding all night and was drawn to the living room by the thought of food.

The first cookie was excellent, and the tea was lukewarm but not bad. After one, the next was easy to eat.

Feeling like he was caught eating an enemy’s prepared meal, Attil’s mood worsened.

‘Is she here to look for something interesting?’

He picked up the cookie plate and stood up, approaching Lirika. He wanted to pour cookies on her head and say something.

Stopping in front of her, he lifted the plate but paused. He noticed she was trembling and her ears were bright red.

She was much smaller and more delicate than him.

He bit his lip.

“Really.”

A sigh or a laugh, he couldn’t tell, escaped and disappeared.

Seeing her flinch at the small reaction, his urge to torment her disappeared. He wanted to see her face.

If her ears are that red, how red is her face?

He wondered why she had come out in a nightgown with a robe, through the servants’ corridor.

He offered her the plate.

“Eat.”

“No, I’m fine.”

Her voice was barely audible.

“Eat.”

He saw her hesitantly pick up a cookie and put it in her mouth. But she still didn’t show her face.

Only her cheeks were visible.

“Wow, the Crown Prince is tormenting a poor girl.”

Lirika turned her head in surprise to see a boy with soft beige hair standing there.

“I’m not tormenting her.”

Attil said sharply. Pai approached with a soft laugh and handed him a piece of paper.

“Here, the reply to the invitation from the princess. The Crown Prince said he will attend.”

“!!”

Lirika jumped and took the reply. She looked up at him, then quickly bowed again.

Pai chuckled and looked at Attil. Seeing the joyful, sparkling face Attil had seen for a moment, his anger disappeared. He sighed and said.

“Go now.”

“Yes, yes!”

Lirika quickly went back through the secret corridor and closed the door.

Pai suppressed a laugh, and Attil, feeling exasperated, said.

“Why did she go that way?”

“Maybe it’s part of her character as a cute maid?”

“I hope she doesn’t think she fooled us.”

“Hmm. But she’s quite bold. Coming in through the servants’ corridor alone, without any attendants.”

“If that’s infiltration, I’ve been living without knowing what a threat to life is.”

Attil looked at Pai with a nonchalant response.

“Reply?”

“Aren’t I the diligent aide? I’ve already written a reply. Ah, I hope the princess isn’t an enemy because she’s so cute.”

The Empress.

Attil handed Pai the cookie plate.

“She’s not cute at all.”

* * *

‘I, I was really surprised.’

Lirika pressed her thumping heart. What if she was caught?

‘What should I do? If he thinks I’m a pitiful girl. No, maybe he didn’t notice.’

She had only lifted her head for a moment, so she might not have been caught.

At that moment, someone touched her shoulder, and Lirika jumped. She barely suppressed a scream because His Highness was inside.

Turning around, she saw a tall man standing there. Even in the dark, Lirika could see he was wearing a sparkling brooch.

“B—”

The man put a finger to his lips, smiled, and pointed to the exit. Lirika covered her mouth with both hands and nodded.

Walking out of the corridor, she sighed deeply. The man followed and asked.

“What’s the matter, Princess Lirika?”

Feeling the weight lift from her shoulders upon realizing he had recognized her, but quickly regaining her composure.

If he was Brin’s older brother, he must have heard about her.

“I didn’t know His Highness had arrived. I just came to check if the cookies and tea had gone stale or cold...”

“What about Brin?”

“I didn’t want to wake him, so I just came to check...”

Lirika sighed again, seeing his expression.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t have. Brin will worry.”

“Did the Crown Prince recognize me? I hope he thought I was just a strange maid...”

“Hmm—”

Bran had a thoughtful look on his face, which reminded Lirika of Brin, making her feel closer to him.

“He might not have recognized you. I’ll talk to him.”

“Really? Thank you!”

Lirika smiled and waved the reply.

“Then I’ll go back now. Brin will worry.”

“Yes.”

Bran smiled and saw her off. As Brin had said, she was a rare type of princess in the palace.

‘If the Empress really doesn’t plan to use the princess, as Brin said.’

In the palace, even children can’t let their guard down. Every noble child has a family backing them.

The lack of malice in a child makes them even more useful.

Parents can simply tell their young children, ‘Let’s play hide and seek here’ or ‘Deliver this cookie to His Highness’ or ‘There’s a place worth exploring in the forest. Why don’t you go on an adventure with His Highness?’

Being caught in such a trap once is enough.

Before entering her room, Lirika waved at the princess, who was looking back from the end of the corridor.

* * *

Lirika was scolded by Brin.

“You should bring a maid even for a secret meeting.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a secret meeting, would it?”

Lirika, familiar with difficult words from her dictionary, countered. Brin shook his head.

“Noble ladies bring maids even for secret meetings. It shows how important close maids are.”

“I see.”

Lirika nodded, realizing being a princess was harder than she thought.

Actually, she had something she wanted to boast about to Brin. She showed him the reply.

“The Crown Prince said he will come to the tea party.”

“Oh, that’s good, Princess.”

“Yes. And he was eating the cookies enthusiastically? Mother said she only eats cookies brought by her close aides. It seems he really liked them.”

Bran thought about how a teenage boy would react if caught eating cookies he said he wouldn’t eat and asked.

“Was it okay? Did you get scolded?”

“No, he seemed to think I was a maid. Well, I guess.”

She added the last part uncertainly.

“But Bran said he would talk to him.”

“Did you meet Bran?”

“Yes, he looked like Brin.”

“Hmm, I see.”

“Of course, Brin is more beautiful.”

“Yes, he is.”

Bran smiled. Being compared to his brother was a fact, but not a compliment.

“Then we need to prepare for the tea party.”

Lirika savored the words in her mind.

Tea party.

Tea party.

It was a word with a sweet and enchanting quality.

It was her first time hosting one. Despite her nervousness, Brin encouraged her.

After practicing so many times, it would go well. She had practiced sitting the rabbit and bear dolls, greeting them elegantly, and offering them tea.

It was the most enjoyable game of make-believe in the world.

His Majesty said there would be ice in the underground ice storage, so she got a large block of ice.

Lirika was amazed that there was ice in such weather but tried to maintain a composed, princess-like expression. A noble princess wouldn’t be surprised by ice.

Late May.

The garden was a riot of light green shoots and deep green leaves. Early blooming roses added color to the scene.

The decorative tassels on the large parasol sparkled in the sunlight, casting shadows under the branches tied with ribbons.

A gentle breeze blew, and the spring air was mild.

Sunlight filtered through the branches, scattering like gold on the porcelain.

It was a perfect day, like something from an illustration.

After finishing all the preparations, Lirka waited for the Crown Prince. Time passed slowly.

At every rustle, Lirika perked up her ears and turned her gaze.

Attil did not appear for a long time. The expressions of the waiting attendants began to stiffen.