Chapter 10
Knock, knock, knock.
“Grand Duke, I’m coming in.”
After knocking, I opened the door.
Carlos sat at his desk, glasses perched low on his nose. He glanced up at me dryly.
“What is it?”
“I heard you skipped lunch.”
I stepped forward and set the tray down in front of him.
His gaze flickered briefly toward the food.
“So you’ve decided to resign as a princess and apply as a servant here instead?”
His tone suggested he was observing something mildly absurd.
Fair enough.
This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to deliver it myself.
“Calming your mana with purification stones isn’t enough. If you want to live normally, you need proper meals and sleep as well.”
Carlos let out a humorless breath.
“And now you wish to play physician?”
“I’m simply concerned about the health of the guardian I’ll depend on for the next four years. If something happens to you, it becomes inconvenient for me.”
“And you made this yourself?”
“…I borrowed Mia’s help. A little. Well… quite a lot.”
My eyes drifted away.
It was far too skillfully prepared to claim entirely as my own.
Instead of picking up his utensils, Carlos asked flatly:
“And why should I trust this?”
His crimson eyes fixed on me.
“Ah… well.”
It seemed I had grown careless after Mia’s easy acceptance.
This reaction—this suspicion—was what I had originally expected.
And yet—
Something tightened painfully in my chest.
If Carlos chose to distrust me, nothing would change.
After a long hesitation, I forced myself to speak.
“Do you really think I’d attempt something so obvious?”
I tried to sound calm, but my voice betrayed me.
He remained silent.
Unable to endure the quiet, I rushed on.
“It’s because of the eggplant and blue primrose!”
“…What?”
“When cooked together, they help detoxify miasma accumulated in the body. So this isn’t just food, it’s—”
The more I explained, the more flustered I became.
Calm down.
I took a steady breath.
“A body exposed to miasma cannot recover through purification stones alone. The toxins must be expelled. Eggplant and blue primrose assist with that. The imperial kitchen always included that combination in His Majesty’s meals.”
That sounded clearer.
Still, his expression did not soften.
“Proof?”
“…Proof?”
“You claim this is imperial research. Why should I believe you?”
I faltered.
There was no written proof.
No documents.
Only what I had witnessed.
“I just… thought it might help.”
My voice faded.
He wouldn’t eat it anyway.
Embarrassed, I reached for the tray.
“If you don’t want it, that’s fine. I won’t force you.”
At least Mia now knew the key ingredients.
Then—
“…Leave it.”
“…What?”
I looked up.
Carlos hadn’t moved.
“You look foolish.”
“I thought I misheard.”
“I said leave it.”
He jerked his chin toward the tray.
“You may not know this, but thanks to your father, I’ve built resistance to most poisons.”
The Emperor had tried more than once.
“I didn’t poison it.”
“So it seems.”
He studied me briefly.
“Well?”
“Huh?”
“Are you going to keep staring? Or are you waiting to see whether I finish it?”
“No. I’m just surprised you’re actually eating it.”
“You’re the one who brought it.”
A faint, crooked smile touched his lips.
“Unless you’ve imported some exotic toxin from beyond the continent, it won’t harm me. And if you had, I’d have ample justification to dispose of you.”
He cut a piece and took a bite.
I stared.
Something warm bloomed faintly in my chest.
“…How is it?”
“Not bad.”
“…Really?”
Before I could stop myself, I smiled brightly.
“That’s a relief!”
He paused.
His eyes lifted to mine.
For a split second, something flickered there—then vanished behind cold composure.
I snapped my mouth shut.
Did I smile too openly?
“Enjoy your meal.”
I bowed quickly and left.
Click.
The door closed behind me.
My heart pounded wildly.
He said it wasn’t bad.
I wasn’t sure why that made me so happy.
My steps felt lighter than usual.
What should I make next?
There were still many combinations I knew—herbs that helped purge miasma, teas that promoted restful sleep.
By the time I reached my room, my mood hadn’t faded.
The moment Rhea left, Carlos’s hand stilled.
Clink.
He set down his fork.
Silently, he picked up a napkin—and spat the food into it.
His expression turned cold.
He had never intended to eat it.
He had only been curious.
Curious about what the princess was thinking.
He stared at the plate.
That smile kept surfacing in his mind.
The way her face had brightened at a single compliment.
It had been the expression of a thirteen-year-old child.
He exhaled sharply.
She’s still a princess.
Raised by the Emperor.
The empire’s infamous villainess.
There was no reason to be affected.
None at all.
He tipped the plate into the waste bin.
The rollatini fell with a dull thud.
Returning to his desk, he picked up his documents—
But the words refused to settle.
That unguarded, brilliant smile lingered.
“…Annoying.”
He pressed a hand to his forehead.
There was no reason to care.
There shouldn’t be.
