ISTL CHAPTER 20

Anais was taken aback by Max’s reaction, which was strikingly similar to that of Empress Elize. Elize had even questioned whether it was a good idea to give Anais the commission, leaving her quite distressed. Anais had to endure over two hours of explaining why this plan was bound to succeed.

“Her Majesty the Dowager Empress understood my plan.”

To some extent, at least.

Anais glossed over the rest of the details. In reality, the Dowager Empress had seemed almost fed up with the whole thing and had cut the audience short, but that was beside the point. What mattered was that she had accepted the plan.

“I can’t believe Grandmother ‘understood’ such a flimsy plan.”

Anais chuckled nervously.

“It’s because she saw its potential.”

“Seeing its potential is one thing…”

Max suppressed his irritation and asked, “Why did we have to meet here of all places?”

They were in a shabby coffeehouse, or rather, a run-down building that used to be a coffeehouse. To Max, it looked like a place that might not even be in business anymore, with no customers or staff around.

“Today, we’re going to do a rehearsal.”

“A rehearsal?”

Max’s scowl seemed to question why on earth they needed such a thing, and Anais patiently explained.

“It might seem simple, but when you actually do it, it might not be so straightforward. You might suddenly forget everything.”

“Do I look like someone who can’t memorize a few lines?”

“Not exactly, but since you’ll need to act out of character, it might feel awkward.”

“Why not just practice in the palace?”

“Your Highness, practicing in conditions that are as close to the real thing as possible is more beneficial, don’t you think?”

Max irritably brushed away a cobweb from under the table and responded.

Roxane looked up from her book, glancing at the tray of treats placed before her.

“These aren’t desserts from Maison Plenay.”

The maid, who had been moving quietly, paused and looked slightly embarrassed.

“Yes, my lady. I apologize. There was a mix-up, and these are from another establishment.”

Roxane’s eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“I see. Which establishment?”

“It’s from a small, rather discreet place,” the maid replied hesitantly. “It was recommended by someone who claimed they were of high quality.”

Roxane’s interest was piqued. Despite her usual disinterest in new or unknown places, something about this situation caught her attention. She reached for a small pastry and examined it.

“Very well. Let’s see if it lives up to its reputation.”

As she took a tentative bite, she could feel the subtle hints of flavor and texture, which, though different from what she was accustomed to, were surprisingly pleasant. Her eyes softened in approval as she continued to sample the assortment.

“Well, it seems these are not too bad after all.”

The maid, relieved by her lady’s positive response, nodded gratefully and stepped back to attend to other duties. Roxane returned to her reading, now with a slightly more contented expression, reflecting on the small, unexpected pleasure this change had brought.

Roxanne completely set down the book she was holding and stared intently at the maid.

“I’m sorry, miss. It seems that there are mice in the kitchen.”

“There are mice in the Marquis’s kitchen?”

“Not only the Maison Planiere desserts but also other ingredients in the pantry have become unusable.”

“What? None of them are left?”

“What should we do? The desserts you bought yourself the other day…”

“Mm.”

The maid drooped her eyebrows, unsure of what to do. After a moment of gauging her reaction, Roxanne spoke.

“Have Marco prepare for a trip tomorrow.”

“Yes? Are you sending Marco? You’re not going yourself?”

Oops, the maid covered her mouth, realizing her words had come off as questioning. Bowing her head deeply, she hastily explained.

“Oh, no, I mean… You’ve always chosen the desserts yourself before. You also liked tasting the freshly baked Mille-Feuille right there.”

Roxanne gave her usual sunny smile, reassuring the maid.

“Of course, Tasha. This time, I plan to buy more, so I intend to send more porters.”

The maid’s face noticeably brightened, as if she had been waiting for this news. She quickly ran off to inform Marco of the schedule for tomorrow.

Afterward, although she was supposed to return to her original job at the laundry room, the maid headed to a secluded area behind the Bastian Marquis’s estate. There, beneath an old olive tree, someone was hiding in the shade.

After secretly meeting with someone wearing a hood, the maid eagerly whispered something, and the mysterious figure handed her a gleaming item.

The maid took a small bite of it and hopped with joy.

*****

“I’m sorry, Lady Bastian. The prepared crêpes have all been used up.”

“Oh my…”

At that moment, a harsh voice was heard from the side.

“Are you really telling me to leave like this, knowing that Roxanne is a regular here?”

“I’m very sorry. A large purchase was just made by another customer… We didn’t expect it to run out so quickly.”

“This is outrageous. Who is the person who bought everything without leaving a single piece for our lady?”

Max looked at Anaïs, who was playing the roles of both a Maison Planiere employee and Roxanne’s maid, with a look of fascination, as if she were a strange creature.

Her imitation of the employee and the maid was so accurate that Max felt like he was meeting real employees from Maison Planiere and a real maid from the Bastian family for the first time.

“Prince, what are you doing?”

“…?”

“You need to say the next line.”

Caught yawning, Max reluctantly picked up the script as Anaïs prodded him.

“(Embarrassed) Well, it’s that gentleman sitting over there.”

“That’s my line. You should read the line below that. And why are you reading the stage directions?”

Max muttered in a world-weary tone.

“What’s the problem, beautiful lady?”

Anaïs, now fully immersed in her role as the employee, began to explain the confused situation the beloved regular was facing.

“Ah. I suppose I should give way. I wouldn’t want the lady to miss out on her sweet sugar pastries because of me.”

Anaïs stepped in again.

“Really, Your Highness. Why do you keep making up lines?”

“But that’s what it says.”

“How is that the same?”

“What’s different?”

“Your Highness, what you just said would be considered sarcasm by ordinary people.”

“…”

“What did you say earlier?”

Anaïs, with a sharp look, raised her eyebrows by lifting the corners of her eyes with her fingers.

“You said, ‘I’ve lost the desire to buy, so do whatever you want with it!’ Didn’t you?”

“When did I ever say something so catty?”

“Why do you keep ignoring the lines I wrote for you?”

Max, who was skimming the script with an irritated look, let out a deep sigh.

“Lady Brienne. Do you really think lines like these fit reality? They belong in a novel.”

“If you’re embarrassed…”

“I’m not.”

“Just close your eyes and do it. That way…”

“Come on, you need to feel it.”

Anaïs, determined to continue, spoke firmly.

“…Won’t this practice end soon?”

This was their first real confrontation. Anaïs needed to show a different side of Max than what was commonly known.

To achieve this, the goal of the operation was to leave an impression that was more overly polite and smooth, even if it felt a bit exaggerated and uncomfortable.

However, due to Max’s skillful deviations throughout the practice, progress was slow.

With the nuance that they shouldn’t expect the practice to end soon if things continued this way, Max finally seemed to become a bit more alert.

Suddenly, closing the script, he looked straight at Anaïs.

“It seems like the lady is having trouble. Is something wrong?”

Oh, is he finally willing to give it a proper try?