Chapter 33
“Do we really have to start right now? Couldn’t we just do it when there are other people around?”
“Hans and Murray are the closest people to me. If something’s even slightly off, they’ll notice right away. And if you can’t do it when we’re alone, there’s no guarantee you’ll do better in front of others. You need to practice ahead of time so you can do well in the real thing.”
“……”
“Go on.”
But calling him by name wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined. Addressing the prince only by his name felt awkward—twice over—and the words just wouldn’t come out.
As Franz was watching her hesitate, he let out a small sigh and turned his head away.
“Franz.”
He turned at the sound of his name. And, just as Iella had naturally spoken his name, he spoke hers.
“Iella.”
“Franz.”
Iella’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she called his name again.
“It’s only hard the first time. Once you do it, it’s easy after that. Haha.”
Iella couldn’t hide her bewildered expression as she gave a small, bashful laugh. Franz simply looked at her.
Franz.
A voice soft but steady. It struck him that this had been a much better choice than he had expected.
“Mm. You’re good at it.”
“I pick things up pretty quickly.”
“That’s good. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Don’t expect too much. I might fall far short of your standards, but I’ll try.”
“Alright.”
Franz nodded easily.
“So… it’s hard to tell just from words. What exactly am I supposed to do from now on?”
“First, we’ll have to watch for the right moment to make our move.”
Iella was relieved. She’d thought she might have to start doing something right away, but apparently not.
“Shall we go? Follow me.”
When Franz left his office, she hurried after him. His strides were so long and fast she was a little out of breath. What had seemed like a confident, refreshing pace from a distance was exhausting to keep up with.
As they walked down a sunlit corridor, Franz suddenly stopped and turned to her.
“What are you doing back there? Aren’t you coming?”
“I am coming. Your Highness just walks too fast.”
She grumbled a little as she half-jogged to catch up. When the distance between them closed, Franz began walking again. He still wasn’t quite matching her pace, but he wasn’t striding off as before.
Noticing she was falling behind again, he finally slowed until they were walking side by side.
It’s fine if I walk behind him…
Still, it felt awkward to have the prince adjusting his pace for her. This whole situation still felt strange. And yet, she found herself thinking he might be a better person than she’d assumed.
“By the way, where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
She was curious why he wouldn’t just answer, but her question was soon resolved.
Moments later, Franz stopped in front of a door. When he led her inside, she was surprised to find the space set up as an art studio. From the wide windows, she had a sweeping view of the gardens.
“Ah…”
A small gasp escaped her as her eyes widened. He gestured for her to go in and look around.
“Wow.”
It was the limited-edition easel and canvas she’d seen in Mazello. And next to them, on a table, lay the finest paints, brushes, and palettes—all the expensive tools she’d never been able to afford neatly arranged in rows.
Drawn in as if under a spell, she ran her hand over a finely finished stick of charcoal.
Franz, watching her slow, reverent touch, let his gaze drift to her face. The smile at his lips wouldn’t leave.
“Do you like it?”
Like it? That’s an understatement!
“What on earth… what is all this?”
Under her softly curved lashes, her large eyes shone with pure excitement, glittering like those of a child. Her unfiltered reaction was more than Franz had anticipated.
“What do you think it is?”
Iella rolled her eyes upward, thinking for a moment.
“Are you… giving it to me?”
She was momentarily overwhelmed, unsure how to take in the sight before her. But her bright, expectant eyes betrayed her excitement. Her fingers trembled slightly as if handling something precious.
“It’s incredibly expensive…”
Of course it was—everything here was top quality. But to Franz, the cost was nothing; he’d paid for it without hesitation. If he wanted, he could get more any time.
“When you have money, you have an obligation to spend it. And I decided this was worth investing in. Whether it’s a person or a project—if it has value, I never hold back my support.”
With such a genuine reaction from her, the value had already been proven.
“Thank you. I love it.”
Iella’s gaze was filled with sincerity.
“You can come here and work any time you want.”
“What? Really?”
“Mm. Make yourself comfortable.”
Franz handed her a key. Instinctively, she reached out to take it—and realized it was for the studio.
“The other key’s with the butler. Tell him if you need anything.”
“Yes. Oh—would it be alright if I painted landscapes as well as portraits? The garden’s so beautiful.”
“Do as you like.”
Her careful question was met with an easy answer. It wasn’t a difficult request.
“Thank you. Then when should we start? I’d like to have about an hour every day with you.”
“Every day?”
“Yes. At least until I’ve done some sketches and drawn the outlines on canvas. After that, I’ll only call you when I need you. Shall we start today?”
Her voice brimmed with enthusiasm.
“No, I have a meeting today. We’ll start tomorrow.”
Franz checked his pocket watch.
“Ah, yes, of course.”
She answered brightly. Just then, there was a knock, and Hans appeared.
“Your Highness.”
Franz turned at Hans’s cautious tone.
“Alright.”
He replied before Hans could explain further, making the butler visibly relax.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Ah—yes!”
Franz left the room at once. Alone now, Iella stood for a moment, then looked around. Aside from the art supplies, the space was empty, but with the bright sunlight, it didn’t feel bare.
“Wow… I can’t believe this is my studio. Sure, it’s only for a while, but still. This is great.”
She found herself humming without realizing it.
Thinking back over the moments leading up to now, she felt strange. She’d once hated Prince Franz so much she could hardly stand him, and now here she was.
And to be painting a royal portrait, no less. Could anything be more of an honor? She thought not.
It was just a shame she couldn’t go around bragging about it.
“He’s… better than I thought.”
The more she got to know him, the less he seemed like the insufferable man she’d believed. She decided to try and forget the fact that he’d once threatened her.
“Due to the rapid growth of the steel industry, raw material prices have been driven sharply upward. Compared to last year, they’ve doubled or even tripled.”
“As you instructed, sir, we secured our supply in advance, which has helped solidify our financial base. Hahaha.”
One of the executives laughed, giving Franz a thumbs-up. The other executives in the meeting nodded in agreement, sending admiring looks toward him.
“From here on, our competitiveness will depend on securing raw materials from various angles. In addition to the mines we’ve already invested in, focus on developing new ones. Increasing the scale of our investment and production will take time, but with the solid system we’ve built, we can sustain continued growth.”
“Yes, sir.”
It had been a marathon meeting, but at Franz’s words, the executives answered eagerly, eyes bright. Their blind trust in him was unmistakable.
To them, Prince Franz Princeton was a businessman of exceptional talent—a genius investor who could sense the shifts of the times and read the flow of money better than anyone.
“That’s all for today.”
At his words, the executives sighed in relief. There had been a break in the middle, and the meeting had ended before sunset, so they were satisfied enough.
As always, Franz left the room looking fresh, with no sign of fatigue. Hans followed him out. When Franz’s blue gaze slid toward him, Hans realized he’d been staring.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I am.”
He said it, but there was no trace of it on his face.
“You don’t look it at all.”
“What would change if I did?”
Only then did Hans realize his mistake. As someone responsible for the prince’s well-being, he knew Franz—whether as a royal, a company head, or the lord of Grenville—had no choice but to carry that weight.
“No, sir. Shall I prepare your bath?”
“Mm.”
“I’ll arrange for a massage as well, to help you relax. What would you like to drink?”
“Sherry.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
“Tell Murray to come to my office.”
Leaving those words behind, Franz walked on. Hans couldn’t help but admire his master’s stamina once again.
Sherry was the wine the prince drank when he truly wanted to relax. If he’d admitted to being tired, he must have meant it—but his steady, unwavering gait showed no sign of weakness.
