As Sandrine’s sharp words hit, Anais could feel cold sweat starting to form, her head spinning from Max’s precarious verbal tightrope walk.
Sandrine, the former Duchess, was a figure of great influence in the social circles, second only to the Dowager Queen. Known for her close relationship with Queen Dowager Élise, she was one of the few people who could openly criticize Max.
Anais cast a longing glance at the other tables, where the atmosphere seemed far more relaxed, and then nervously glanced back at Sandrine and Max Barbier at her own table. After their brief exchange, the two had fallen silent.
‘Ugh, my throat is so dry!’
Just as Anais was gulping down water, a late guest arrived at the banquet hall.
“Grandmother—!”
All eyes turned towards the sound of tiny feet echoing on the marble floor. A child, appearing to be about five years old, sprinted toward Sandrine and leapt into her arms. The previously stern Duchess’s face lit up with joy. Following the child into the hall were the Duke and Duchess of Armand.
“Oh, my dear one.”
Sandrine, holding her grandchild on her lap, turned to the Duke.
“You’re later than expected.”
“Yes, some matters in the territory took longer than expected, and… gasp!”
The Duke of Armand, only just noticing Max sitting at the same table, caught his breath in surprise.
“Your Highness, what brings you here…?”
Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, the Duke seemed genuinely shocked. Although clearly taken aback by Max’s presence, the Duke and Duchess managed to maintain their composure and extended a polite greeting.
Anais, grateful for the Duke’s interruption that eased the suffocating tension, quickly greeted them as well.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Duke and Duchess of Armand. I am Anais Brienne.”
“Ah, the young lady of House Brienne,”
Sandrine added a brief introduction about Anais after a slight, polite cough.
“The Dowager Queen has chosen her as the new aide. This young lady is so accomplished that she’s even running a prominent salon in the capital,” Sandrine remarked.
“Indeed. I can sense the noble bearing of the late Count Brienne in you, my lady,” the Duke of Armand added.
“You flatter me,” Anais replied, smiling modestly at the continued praise. As she smiled, her eyes met those of the child in Sandrine’s lap. The boy quickly buried his face in Sandrine’s embrace, then peeked out again, sneaking glances at Anais.
“Hello there, young lord,” Anais greeted him with a gentle smile. Sandrine adjusted Pierre’s posture and spoke.
“Pierre, greet them properly. This is His Highness, the Third Prince, and this lady is Lady Brienne.”
“Pleased to meet you, young lord Pierre. I’m Anais Bri—”
“What’s this? A pig?”
Huh…? A pig…?
“Young lord?” Anais stammered, taken aback.
“Don’t smile. You’re ugly.”
“…”
The warm atmosphere suddenly froze. Anais blinked slowly, trying to process what she had just heard.
A flustered Sandrine quickly spoke up, her tone stern. “Pierre! What kind of manners are those? Apologize to Lady Brienne at once, and greet His Highness properly.”
“No, Grandmother. Make them go away. Why are they sitting in my spot?”
“Pierre!” Sandrine’s whispered reprimand barely concealed her shock, while Max let out a small laugh.
“So this is what the Duke’s household considers ‘polite.’ If the young lord is so quick to learn, the future of this country must be very bright.”
“…”
The Duchess struggled to hide her embarrassment as she took a sip of water, while Pierre continued to stare up at them with wide, unblinking eyes.
“You’re a prince? No, you’re not. I’m the prince. My mom and dad always call me Prince.”
“Ahem!”
“Pierre, enough…!”
The Duke and Duchess, their faces flushed with embarrassment, were at a loss for what to do.
Sandrine was even more shocked. She was utterly speechless, unable to comprehend her grandson’s unfamiliar rudeness after so long apart.
“It seems I’ll learn quite a bit about ‘politeness’ from Young Lord Armand today, Madam,” Max continued with his biting sarcasm, causing Sandrine’s eye to twitch in frustration.
“Ahem! Pierre, come along. Edouard Paul de Armand! The Duke, too,” Sandrine commanded, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she detached Pierre from her side. Pierre, frightened by Sandrine’s stern expression, lowered his eyebrows in submission.
But even as he was dragged away, Pierre stuck his tongue out at Max, pulling down his eyelids with his chubby little fingers in a final act of defiance.
“Meh!” It was a taunt.
And then Anais saw it. Max quietly gripping his knife.
In an instant, Anais grabbed his hand. “Your Highness! You must control yourself. He’s just a child!”
“What?”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘It takes a village to raise a child’?”
“What are you…?”
“First of all, please put the knife down…”
Max furrowed his brow, staring intently at Anais.
“Lady Brienne, were you not taught that meat should be cut before eating?”
“Meat? Oh, meat.”
“Yes, meat,” Max replied, tapping his plate with his other hand. Anais’s gaze flickered between the chunk of meat and the knife in his hand.
“Ah, meat.”
“Exactly.”
“What…?”
“How long are you going to keep holding on?” Max asked as Anais quickly released his hand.
“Hmm.”
His half-lidded blue eyes focused directly on Anais, the same intense gaze from earlier that made her swallow nervously.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Don’t tell me you did that just to satisfy your own desires?”
“W-What?!”
“Touching me, I mean.”
Anais shuddered.
“Me? Touch you? Are you crazy?” She couldn’t say the last part out loud, but her eyes widened in disbelief, which made Max chuckle dryly.
“Wow. That expression is kind of annoying.”
“How could you misunderstand like that…!”
“Forget it. Anyway, I’ve done enough. Lady Roxanne isn’t here, so I think I’ll head back.”
“What? No! You can’t! I heard that Lady Bastien will be arriving soon. Please, just wait a little longer, okay?”
Their back-and-forth continued a few more times, with Anais pleading for him to stay, and Max insisting on leaving. The argument was abruptly cut short by the thunderous sound of Anais’s stomach growling.
“…”
“Alright, alright. I get it,” Max said, rinsing his mouth with some water before standing up suddenly.
“Just eat comfortably. I need to get some fresh air.”
Before Anais could say anything, Max headed straight for the terrace, leaving her staring blankly after him. Her stomach, having been ignored during their spat, continued to grumble loudly.
Wait a minute… Did he just… Was he being considerate of me?
‘No way,’ she thought, shaking her head as she recalled his mischievous behavior from earlier in the day.
There’s no way.
Anais shook her head, dismissing the idea that Max could have been considerate of her. There was no way he was perceptive enough to notice her nervous nibbling, and even if he had, he wasn’t the type to care.
“Let’s eat! The only thing that stays with you is what you eat,” she told herself, finally beginning to enjoy the ensemble of the orchestra as she savored her food. Although, she did occasionally freeze up at the memory of the young lord’s “pig” comment.
For now, she decided to set aside her worries about Max, who was out of sight.
However, as she finished her plate, anxiety began to creep back in.
‘Where on earth did he go just to get some fresh air?’
***
An outburst echoed through the halls.
“What on earth happened to the young lord while I was staying at the villa?” Sandrine’s furious expression made the Duke and Duchess, along with Pierre, flinch.
“What a disgrace! And in front of no one else but the third prince. That Max of all people…!”
“Is this what the Duke’s household calls ‘courtesy’? The young lord seems to be learning quickly. The future of this country looks bright.”
Oh, her head throbbed. She massaged her temples, and as she swayed, the Duke quickly supported her.
“Edouard, Sophia, how on earth have you been educating the young lord in matters of etiquette?”
“Mother, please calm down. Pierre didn’t know any better.”
“What did you say?”
“He’s bound to make mistakes. Isn’t that just part of growing up? He’ll naturally outgrow these things, so there’s no need to be so hard on him now.”
Sandrine blinked slowly, her expression unreadable.
“Have you… lost your mind?”
“Mother, you know how special Pierre is.”
