MFTR 92

Chapter 92

 What on Earth Have I Done…

Her body hadn’t been free to move, and she had been too startled by the things Cardin had gathered to look at them closely.

But while painting a picture to send to the Empress Dowager, she had already confirmed that Cardin’s skill was no less than that of a professional artist.

Recognizing the same style now, she became certain that the portraits hanging in that room had also been painted by Cardin himself.

Perhaps because she realized how much affection was poured into them, Annette felt terribly embarrassed.

More than anything—

‘I think he over-idealized me…’

The red eyes and hair were unmistakably hers, but the woman in the painting looked like a goddess out of myth, breathtakingly beautiful, and at the same time like a legendary hero, magnificently splendid.

Most of the portraits seemed to be of her subjugating monsters. At those times, she hadn’t been finely dressed like now—rather, her body would be splattered with blood, wielding her sword in a grim, savage battle.

Yet he had painted her as if she were beautiful and dazzling even in such scenes.

When Cardin used to say, “Princess, you’re so beautiful,” she would always get flustered. But recalling that he himself had painted her so, the feeling surpassed simple embarrassment—it made her chest ache with emotion.

‘So… is that really how I look in his eyes?’

No matter how she looked at her reflection, her face wasn’t anything special.

Maybe his eyesight was poor.

‘If not, then he must just be blinded by love…’

“Do you not like it, my lady?”

Noticing her frowning in the mirror, Larisa asked anxiously.

Annette quickly shook her head.

“It just feels a little strange, that’s all.”

“Ah! Well, that makes sense…”

“But I really do like it. Thank you, Larisa.”

“Please, don’t mention it. My lady, you can always count on me!”

Just a single word of praise, and Larisa smiled so brightly—as if she had gained the whole world.

“Is there anything else that feels uncomfortable?”

Rising from her seat, Annette moved around as if making a final check.

As with the first dress she had tried on, the length and size were perfect, and the shoes fit as if tailored for her.

“Yes, everything feels fine.”

When she nodded, Larisa, looking like a determined little rabbit full of energy, declared that she would now escort her lady to the drawing room, where Cardin was waiting.

But as she gripped the doorknob to open it, a sudden dizziness struck her.

In truth, Larisa hadn’t slept a wink the previous night, worrying over Annette. When Cardin’s summons came, she had been so certain that some terrible incident had happened that she nearly blacked out.

But seeing that Annette had returned to her original body, all her tension had finally unraveled. Her legs gave way, and she felt herself about to collapse.

Even as she feared, “What if my lady thinks I’m just a clumsy maid?”

“Are you all right, Larisa?”

But instead of collapsing disgracefully, she heard Annette’s gentle voice above her.

“My lady…?”

Blinking, Larisa looked up at Annette, who had caught her with surprisingly light and swift movements—despite her long dress and high heels.

In just a single day, her lady’s features had matured, exuding delicate beauty and strength.

For a moment, Larisa swore she saw light and flower petals shimmering around Annette.

“You… you look amazing…”

The words slipped from her lips as she clutched at her racing heart.

This lady, who used to be only about waist-high, she now had to look up to.

Though Annette often seemed cute and lovable with her youthful face, seeing her now—tall, with long limbs and a perfectly balanced figure—Larisa realized anew.

‘That’s right… my lady was once a knight…’

Because she had seen so much of her innocent, sweet side, Larisa had forgotten.

But now, confronted with a lady taller than herself, with such a commanding presence, she remembered.

Perhaps because Annette was the very first female knight she had ever met, Larisa’s heart brimmed with reverence as she gazed at her.

And then, something long-buried stirred faintly within her.

“…Larisa?”

At Annette’s careful voice, Larisa suddenly understood the emotion that had risen within her.

‘Yes! This is what I’ve always dreamed of—to meet a kind, gallant knight like her!’

Though she had seen the famed knights of House Harzent nearly every day—the empire’s finest—they had always seemed so cold and curt. Larisa had come to believe that the “kind but strong knight” she longed for existed only in novels.

But her lady—her very own mistress—was that very dream incarnate.

Overwhelmed, admiration and longing burned hotly in Larisa’s chest.

Meanwhile, Annette’s expression had darkened with concern.

“Are you really feeling all right? Do you hurt somewhere?”

“Eh? N-no, not at all! I’m perfectly fine!”

Startled, Larisa scrambled up.

But Annette narrowed her eyes.

“Perfectly fine? You look pale. You really didn’t sleep last night, worrying about me, did you?”

“T-that’s…”

“Don’t do that again. Just take the day off and rest.”

For Larisa, who valued diligence and devotion as much as her vow to serve the ducal house for life, those words fell like a thunderbolt.

And in truth, though she should have been glad that her lady had returned to her adult form, she felt a prickle of unease.

What if they decided to hire a new maid in her place?

‘The last tournament had contests like paper-folding and drawing—things meant for young masters and ladies. That’s probably why I placed so well…’

Of course, she believed she could excel in other skills too. But with her lady’s popularity now sky-high in the ducal house, the competition was bound to grow fierce.

‘If I make even the slightest mistake… No! I cannot lose my position as her exclusive maid!’

Shaking off the ominous thought, Larisa pleaded earnestly:

“My lady, I truly am fine! Please don’t take away my duties.”

Her eyes blazed as she described just how diligently she trained her stamina and strength every day.

Annette flinched slightly at the intensity in those eyes—the same unsettling, almost fanatical gleam she had glimpsed when Larisa first arrived at the ducal estate.

“Ah… well, all right then.”

“Thank you, my lady! Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

“Mm, no, nothing…”

Annette unconsciously stepped back, shaking her head—then suddenly stopped.

Her eyes lit up, and she whispered:

“Then, Larisa, please go to my room and…”

Meanwhile, at that very moment—

In the drawing room, Cardin sat slumped on the sofa, massaging his aching forehead, sighing again and again.

Across from him, Martin, who had been dragged in from the annex to the main building, was trembling with cold sweat.

Watching with pity, Samuel tried cautiously to break the oppressive silence.

“So, in any case… the princess has returned to her original form, correct?”

“…”

“Then surely, that means all is well in the end, doesn’t it? We can simply inform the palace and proceed with the marriage arrangement—”

“Ha.”

Just as his loyal aide tried to cheer him, a sharp, mirthless laugh escaped Cardin.

Both Martin and Samuel flinched. Cardin’s face hardened into ice.

“All is well in the end? And if the result hadn’t been good—what then?”

His cutting gaze pinned Martin.

“You should have reported this to me immediately. No—such a thing should never have happened in the first place, without my permission. Am I wrong?”

“I… I am sorry, Your Grace.”

Martin bowed his head, unable to excuse himself.

Samuel, realizing how truly angry his lord was, immediately bit his tongue.

But inwardly, his curiosity gnawed at him.

How exactly had the princess returned to her true body? And moreover…

‘What in the world happened last night?!’

From Martin’s explanation, Samuel had learned that the adorable little kitten from yesterday had actually been Annette. That alone was shocking enough. But what happened after he left work was far more curious.

He had been ordered, first thing that morning, to fetch Martin immediately—so he hadn’t had time to investigate. All he knew was that the princess had gone to the duchess’s chambers only after being summoned there by Larisa… which meant she must have spent the night in Cardin’s adjoining chambers.

‘Then… could it be, they… they shared a bed?!’

For Samuel, whose only experience with romance had been one awkward and far-from-ordinary relationship, the idea was earth-shattering.

Had he known, he would have volunteered to work late last night, instead of scurrying home to avoid his lord’s foul mood.

Resolving himself, Samuel vowed:

‘Next time His Grace is in a good mood, I’ll get the truth out of him!’

But Cardin’s mood showed no sign of improvement.

Of course not.

At that moment, his insides were burning away with agony.

〈I’d be over the moon if my princess ever got jealous of me.〉

〈If only she’d doubt me, nag me, scold me…〉

The memories of his drunken ramblings from last night—right in front of Annette, no less—assaulted him all at once.

And that wasn’t the worst of it.

He had even revealed his secret fifth-floor room to her—knowing full well she might despise him for it. That hidden trove of odd, obsessive mementos.

‘She must have seen everything I’ve been hoarding all these years…’

And now, recalling how violently she had reacted when he briefly put her in his pocket, he finally understood.

That room must have been so shocking it nearly made her faint.

‘What on earth have I done…’