Max descended the stairs briskly, with Anais following closely behind, almost trotting to keep up.
“That can’t be true, right? Your Highness, it can’t be true, can it?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“…”
“You’re joking, right? There’s no way I was snoring.”
“I never said it was Lady Brienne,” Max replied casually.
“But that’s what you meant!” Anais protested, her voice rising in pitch.
Who else could he have been referring to? The only person who had been near him all night was her, in the adjacent room. Anais quickly reviewed her twenty-two years of life in her mind. Never had she been told that she had such a habit.
There was no way she had been snoring, but if that were true, did it mean that the soundproofing of the Armand manor was that poor?
As her expression grew more serious, Max glanced at her and let out a chuckle.
“It happens when you’re tired. Why take it so seriously?”
“Well, yes, I suppose that’s true,” Anais mumbled.
“It was like a train whistle, though. For a moment, I thought lightning had struck in the middle of the night.”
“…”
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She lowered her gaze, staring intently at the ground as she walked, but something kept catching her eye.
Was his shoulder… twitching?
“…?”
Anais noticed that Max’s shoulders occasionally twitched, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. When she sneaked a sideways glance at him, she saw the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
For someone who claimed to be too tired to sleep, why did he seem so amused?
Finally realizing what was happening, Anais’s voice rose in mock indignation.
“You’re teasing me!”
“You’re quick to catch on,” Max replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face before quickly disappearing. If she had looked away for just a moment, she might have missed it entirely.
“I can’t believe he’s playing such a silly prank,” Anais thought to herself, her lips pressed together in a bemused pout as she trudged after him. She mentally noted to remind him not to pull such lighthearted jokes in front of Lady Bastian, repeating it over and over in her mind as they continued on their way.
In the dining room, the Grand Duchess and the Duchess were already seated. The subtle fragrance of roses from the centerpiece, combined with the sweet scent of brioche, made Anais’s mouth water. Having barely touched her dinner the night before and feeling utterly exhausted after her ordeal in the water, her stomach was now growling with hunger. She resisted the urge to grab a fork and asked about the young master’s whereabouts instead.
“By the way, where is Young Master Pierre?”
“Ah, well…”
Just as the Duchess began to answer, Pierre entered the room. Unlike his usual rambunctious self, he hesitated awkwardly at the entrance. His hair, slicked back into an exaggerated side part, gleamed as if drenched in wax.
Everyone held their breath as the little gentleman slowly made his way to the table and took a seat. The sight of his rosy, blushing cheeks struck everyone as unusual.
Pierre, seated between the Grand Duchess and the Duchess, neatly unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap with a surprising level of decorum. Then, with a determined voice, he spoke.
“Good morning, Lady Brienne.”
Anais was astonished that he hadn’t addressed her with one of his usual insults like “fool,” “pig,” or “idiot.”
“I’m glad to see you’re well, young master,” she replied with a smile.
But as soon as Anais greeted him warmly, Pierre abruptly buried his face in his mother’s lap.
“…?”
Everyone stared at Pierre in confusion. His small ears turned bright red as he clung to the Duchess.
“My, what’s gotten into you? Pierre?” The Duchess, clearly embarrassed, tried to pull him away, but to no avail. In the end, she decided to carry him out of the dining room.
Max set down his coffee cup with a smirk. “It seems the young master doesn’t see me here.”
“Ahem,” Sandrine cleared her throat at his comment. She was in the same position, having also been overlooked by her grandson during his morning greetings.
With Pierre and the Duchess absent, breakfast continued with a brief word of thanks from the Grand Duchess for the help given the day before. Conversations were brief, touching on topics like the atmosphere of the recent tea party, the Empress Dowager’s health, and the beauty of the newly bred roses.
The Duke of Armand, Edward, had left for his estate early in the morning. At the mention of her grown son, Sandrine’s face darkened momentarily.
“I understand Edward, truly. While he dotes on Pierre, his tendency to control him so tightly is concerning. I want Pierre to grow up with the experiences that children his age should have,” Sandrine said, clasping her chocolate cup.
She continued, “So, Pierre and Sophia will be staying at the villa with me for the time being.”
“Ah! The young master will surely enjoy that.”
“Do visit often, Miss Anais. Next time, I’ll show you the roses in the greenhouse,” Sandrine said with a warm smile. This smile was different from the ones Anais had seen during the tea party—less formal and more genuine. It made Sandrine, who had initially seemed as stern as the Empress Dowager, appear much more approachable.
Encouraged by this warmth, the conversation about roses continued for a bit until Max stood up.
“My apologies for interrupting, but I must take my leave.”
This time, Anais was certain—there was no room for negotiation in his words. Though it was sudden, she decided to get up as well. Thinking about the nanny and the butler who were probably worried and waiting for her after her unexpected overnight stay, she also felt a bit rushed.
“I should be going too. I’ve just remembered that I promised to visit the Empress Dowager today,” Anais said, hastily covering her reason for leaving.
“That’s unfortunate. Please convey my regards to the Empress Dowager, Miss Anais,” Sandrine replied.
With that, Sandrine saw Anais and Max off, watching as they each boarded their carriages and drove away. As she stood there, her eyes narrowed slightly.
*****
The Empress Dowager, Elise, held her arms out as the tailor busied himself, measuring and adjusting. She stood perfectly still, moving only her eyes to glance at Anais, who had just returned from the Armand tea party and was finishing her report.
“Sandrine said she plans to visit me?”
“Yes. She mentioned it’s been a long time and that she would come to see you soon.”
“How curious. I would have thought she’d be upset about Max,” Elise mused, though she smiled in satisfaction.
Knowing how much Sandrine cherished the Armand tea party, Elise had felt uneasy about sending Max there. Although she and Sandrine had a long-standing relationship, easing any hurt feelings would likely require considerable effort. And yet, Sandrine intended to visit?
Sandrine’s personality was such that she distanced herself when her feelings were hurt, so this was unlikely to be mere politeness.
“Brienne, you must have done well.”
This was proof that the tea party hadn’t gone poorly.
“So, how was Max?”
Anais explained that although Max had caused a minor disturbance, he had shown himself to be a gentleman, helping others and demonstrating a spirit of selflessness.
“Helping others? Selflessness?”
Elise found herself perplexed. Words like “gentleman,” “selflessness,” and “helping others” didn’t seem to fit with her grandson at all.
As the tailor left the room, having meticulously recorded the Empress Dowager’s measurements, leaving the two alone, Elise pressed Anais for more details. However, she noticed that Anais’s expression had suddenly turned somber.
“Unfortunately, Lady Bastian didn’t attend this tea party.”
“Hmm? Oh…”
“At first, I thought she was simply running late, so I tried to dissuade the prince from leaving early. But I was wrong—she never showed up.”
“Ah.”
“In the end, I think the prince was deeply disappointed not to have seen Lady Bastian.”
“Disappointed?” The Empress Dowager repeated, almost in disbelief, before catching herself with a cough. The idea that Max would be disappointed by not seeing Roxanne seemed utterly implausible.
But her new aide was more serious than ever.
“When I took on this task, I had no idea it would be this significant, but I could sense how sincere the prince’s feelings are towards Lady Bastian.”
