Chapter 58
“W-why are you taking off your clothes…?”
My wide eyes were filled with the sight of Prince Claude.
The chandelier light shone over his broad shoulders under his half-open shirt, revealing glimpses of his firm muscles beneath messy black hair.
Thump, thump—my heart pounded wildly.
Claude gently brushed my frozen cheek.
“This way, I can share some of your burden.”
“…?”
“I mean, don’t mind what I’m wearing. Just eat comfortably.”
His low, calm voice flowed over me like velvet. He tucked my loose silver hair behind my ear and smiled faintly.
“Shall we go? The food is getting cold.”
In a daze, as if bewitched, I followed him out the door.
Was he always this considerate?
The once-cold Claude seemed different tonight.
Honestly, when he was arrogant, it was easier to keep my distance. But now… why was he so dazzling?
Handsome, thoughtful, and yet my contract husband?
This was too dangerous for my heart.
Just as I struggled to calm my racing pulse, Claude suddenly slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side.
“You’re my wife now. We should walk together, side by side—not with you trailing behind me.”
His quiet words brushed against my ear.
I nodded, pretending to be calm, and matched my steps with his.
Servants we passed flushed red, quickly averting their eyes. I could only imagine what they thought—probably that we were newlyweds heading toward a passionate first night.
The thought made my head spin, and my eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment.
After tonight’s dinner, there would be nowhere left to hide. Whether I liked it or not, I’d have to share a bed with Prince Claude.
At least there was one comfort: his unusual “preferences.”
If he were just a normal man, spending nights with him would be unbearable.
But if, against all odds, he ever did try to seduce me… that would be pure torture.
A servant pulled out my chair with a soft scrape, breaking my thoughts.
I sat down in the plush velvet seat and looked at the feast spread before me. Golden plates, silver cutlery, and countless dishes filled the long table.
The roasted turkey in particular looked irresistible—and then my stomach growled loudly.
Flustered, I covered my belly, but Claude chuckled softly.
He could laugh like that?
His slightly curved eyes, relaxed lips, and even, white teeth… He looked so different from the scowling man I knew.
Maybe he was only smiling because his health had improved. Anyone would feel better after suffering illness for years.
I tried to eat with proper manners, taking dainty bites, but the food was too delicious. Before long, my cheeks puffed like a squirrel’s as I chewed eagerly.
Again, Claude smiled.
What’s with him tonight?
Was something wrong?
Could this be part of his mana poisoning?
But no—I’d studied the illness carefully. There was no symptom that made people grin like lovesick fools.
So why was he smiling at me like that?
I sneaked a look at him while happily devouring a turkey leg. He barely touched the meat, nibbling only on salad and drinking glass after glass of wine.
Curious, I once asked Alvin why Claude avoided meat.
[“The late Princess Flora loved eating meat. Since her death, His Highness can’t bear to touch it.”]
Ah. So just as he gave up music after the Empress’s death, he gave up meat because it reminded him of his sister.
Then why insist on serving me meat-laden banquets?
Maybe he wanted me to enjoy what he could no longer have.
The thought made me feel both touched and guilty.
Still… it would be a waste not to eat such perfectly cooked steak.
I popped a bite into my mouth, and when I looked up, Claude was smiling again—like a proud parent feeding a chick.
It struck me. He always made that expression when I enjoyed eating meat.
[“Now that I think about it, the Princess is very similar to Princess Flora—same age, same bright spirit.”] Alvin had once said.
So maybe Claude’s kindness, his care, even rescuing me… was because I reminded him of his late sister.
The thought left me strangely hollow.
I stuffed myself with more turkey until my stomach was full, patting it with satisfaction.
Just then, the head chef brought over a golden tray of desserts, all beautifully decorated.
Jellies, puddings, tarts—every single one was heart-shaped, even the forks and spoons.
“Princess, if you don’t like them, I’ll prepare something else…”
The chef’s shoulders slumped sadly.
“No, they’re perfect. Thank you.”
I scooped up a heart-shaped cake and popped it into my mouth.
Sweetness burst across my tongue. My eyes lit up.
“This… is the best dessert I’ve ever had!”
The chef’s face brightened instantly.
“Thank you, Your Highness! Hearing that gives me strength!”
He laughed so loudly the whole hall rang.
I glanced nervously at Claude—surely he’d scold the chef for being so carefree.
But instead Claude said calmly, “The plate is empty. Bring more desserts. This time, make them star-shaped.”
“Yes, Your Highness! At once!” the chef said cheerfully before hurrying away.
I blinked. “…Do you like stars?”
“No.”
“Then why star shapes?”
“Because you like them.”
…He remembered? I’d once admired the stars while fixing an old woman’s roof.
My chest tightened.
Trying to change the subject, I asked, “Has that chef been working here long? He seems different from Alvin. More relaxed with you.”
Claude set down his wine glass and lifted an eyebrow, giving me a sideways look.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he finally answered—
