Fletta replied, tilting her head.
âWhy did the Grand Duke mistake me for a princess?â
Hearing Flettaâs words, Cezanne also thought it was strange.
âI know. Did he get confused because Fletta is so pretty?â
At that, Fletta laughed and shook her head.
But it was true that Fletta was a princess. Cezanne wanted to make Fletta recognized as a princess again one day.
To do that, there was one gateway through.
Fletta asked, looking into Cezanneâs eyes and tilting her head in curiosity.
âPrincess? What are you thinking?â
âHmm? Itâs nothing. Letâs play today without thinking about anything. Shall we go boating now?â
Fletta nodded continuously at Cezanneâs words.
A white boat floated over the blue lake. It was a small, cozy white gondola decorated with flowers.
Cezanne took the boatmanâs hand first and climbed onto the boat before grabbing Fletta into the boat, lifting her up.
Fletta, who boarded the boat for the first time in her life, was so hunched that she couldnât balance herself and tilted.
Cezanne grabbed Flettaâs small body, which almost fell.
When Cezanne asked affectionately, Fletta nodded. Cezanne reached out her hand.
âItâs dangerous, so letâs hold hands.â
Fletta felt relieved by the soft, warm touch that touched her.
Soon the mighty boatman rowed, and the boat began to move forward. As soon as they watched the waves spread, Fletta and Cezanne seemed to feel at ease.
That night, Cezanne quietly asked Pletta.
âHave you ever met the EmperorâŚ?â
Flettaâs tiny head shook.
âHis Majestyâs face ⌠Do you know?â
âYes, Mrs. Milla showed me a picture book. I also saw the face of Princess Cezanne there.â
âYouâre much prettier in person than in a picture book.â
As Fletta said so with sparkling eyes, Cezanne stroked the childâs side hair.
âHis Majesty should know that. I have to go paint another portrait tomorrow. Itâs an annual event.â
âOh⌠Will I be alone tomorrow?â
Fletta asked in a slightly depressed voice.
âYes, it wonât take long. But even without me, Fletta can do well, right?â
âYes, thatâs right. I can do well even if the princess isnât present. But you have to come quickly.â
Fletta laughed, sticking out her tongue. Cezanne also seemed to be getting attached to Flettaâs cuteness, which grew day by day.
Cezanne bent her eyes beautifully and then spoke again cautiously.
ââŚWhat if I met His Majesty?â
Fletta didnât say anything for a long time as if she had never thought about it. He tilted her head to and fro, and was in agony.
âBecause His Majesty has never found me before.â
Cezanne felt her heart sink.
âSo I never thought Iâd see His Majesty, but âŚâ
âIâm a little curious. I wondered how much he resembled the Princess. Like the rumors, if I cry because I;m scared, I think it would be better not to meet them. I really donât know.â
Fletta said as she rubbed her hands onto her pajamas constantly to see if her hands were sweaty.
âI see. Youâve had a hard time answering difficult questions.â
âNo, it just took time because it never happened.â
âWell, itâs late. Good night, Fletta.â
âGood night, Princess Cezanne.â
Fletta closed her eyes as soon as she pulled the quilt.
Cezanne smiled at her and walked out of her room in her nightgown.
She fell asleep to Mel walking by and climbing the stairs. Yawning, Cezanne went back to her room and went to sleep.
âKing of Westin? Prince of Fioren? Itâs not going to work.â
Charles sat down at his office desk with a ferocious look on his face, throwing the letters to the floor one by one.
The prime minister, Marquis Montes, went around to pick them up one by one.
The chores were naturally the Marquisâ responsibility, as they even sent out the servants during their morning meeting.
âDo you think this makes sense?â
ââŚI, Itâs not that absurd, Your Majesty.â
The prime minister, Marquis Montes, gave a detailed account of the national benefits of marriage.
However, he only faced the burning eyes of the emperor. Charles banged the table.
âIf we lose Cezanne, we donât need any of that. Besides, she doesnât even care about marriage. Her sister, Vivian, doesnât have a fiance yet, so the order doesnât match.â
âT, Thatâs right, Your Majesty. If not, I think Iâll have to coax them into marrying the First Princess.â
Seeing Charles smiling wickedly, the Prime Minister, Marquis Montes, somehow felt uneasy.
He was an emperor who dealt with everything coldly, except when it came to matters related to Princess Cezanne.
Then, outside, the butler, Bael, spoke.
âYour Majesty, it is said that the 2nd Princess is coming to the main palace as a portrait model.â
âWhat a slow painter! You still havenât completed the portrait of Cezanne?
âYes. Should I rush them?â
âOh, and after the portrait painting session, the 2nd Princess asked for a separate audience.â
âReally? Then, I should go now before I wait until itâs over. Iâll have to see how they draw my daughter!â
âYes, Iâll tell her that.â
At the conclusion of the butlerâs words, Charles spoke up.
âSir Montes, if you have nothing more to say, go away.â
When Karl noticed, the Marquisâ hands quickened to tidy up the paperwork before bowing and leaving.
At that time, Cezanne had been forced to smile, clad in a heavy golden fur and jewels for the portrait to hang in the Hall of Fame.
It was torture to have to sit down for two hours in such thick clothes.Sweat seemed to flow all over her body, so she kept fanning her hands.
âDonât move yet, Princess!â
âDoes it make sense that people donât move? I hope Sir Pierre will take care of it and draw it well.â
Cezanne shot back indifferently, and then approached Charles who had just entered with a pleased face.
Charlesâ eyes, as he looked at Cezanne, shone brighter than any gold or jewelry.
âOur Cezanne is getting prettier and prettier. Thatâs a big deal. Should I draw more portraits? I need to record my daughterâs beauty every month.â
Cezanne sighed for a moment at the sight of Charles shaking his head at his own words.
Painting once a year almost killed her, but painting a portrait twelve times a year⌠She wanted to avoid that at all costs.
âUgh. Father, there are already a lot of portraits. Anyway, the painting isâŚâ
âWell, painting is such a clichĂŠd way of expression that it cannot capture all of my daughterâs artistic beauty! If thatâs the case, Iâll have to capture your image vividly in the magic sphere that records the video. Why didnât I think of that sooner!â
Charles tapped my forehead and ordered the servant immediately.
âHey, call the mages right now and tell them to bring some recording magic sphere!â
It seemed like it would be another struggle.
âNow, hold on a second, Father. Shouldnât we do that on anniversaries like my birthday banquet? Thereâs something else Iâd like to say. Can you give me a minuteâŚplease? Actually, I have a favor to ask of you, Father.â
Cezanne asked for a conversation as she looked at her father with bright green eyes like a deer. Following the friendly eye attack, using the lethal move to her father meant that Cezanne wanted something firmly.
Above all, it was very rare to directly bring up the word âpleaseâ.
âCome to think of it, you asked for an audience separately, didnât you? Letâs hear what it is about.â
One look from Charlesâ eyes moved the butler Bael, giving the painter a hint to leave.
As the disturbances disappeared, Charles approached Cezanne and spoke with a more friendly look.
âGo ahead and tell me, Cezanne. Whatâs your request?â
He was a warm father in front of her, but she knew well that he had a fiery disposition. Cezanne tried to bring up Flettaâs story very carefully.
âFirst of all, donât be angry and listen to me until the end.â
Cezanne licked her lips and spoke cautiously, staring at the same green eyes as hers.
ââŚIâve been taking care of a child for a while.â
Charles green eyes rolled for a moment at Cezanneâs words.
Cezanne nodded slowly and spoke again cautiously.
âYes⌠the child was dying in a room that looked like a storage room in the maidâs palace, which was not even a proper room. I couldnât possibly leave her behind⌠so I brought her in.â
When Cezanne spoke up to that point, Charlesâ expression gradually hardened as if he had expected it.
âCezanne, it was unnecessary to take care of her.â
âFather⌠Did you already know?â
âThereâs no way I donât know whatâs going on in the Imperial Palace. Moreover, itâs things related to youâŚâ
My father wasnât as angry as I thought. No, there was no agitation. Should I say, I couldnât believe he, with his usual fiery temper, responded with such a casual reaction.
âYouâve never met her properly, have you?â
âWhy should I meet her?â
The icy response was not unexpected, but Cezanne calmed down and spoke.
âYou should meet her. She was not a cursed child of darkness, as rumored.â
âI beg you, father. Fletta is a child who inherited fatherâs blood. Sheâs a sweet, kind and lovely child.â
Even though Cezanne said so, the cold eyes of the emperor remained the same. However, his lips moved.
âIâll meet her just once. Because youâre asking for it.â