Chapter 34
When he stepped into the office, now bathed in the colors of sunset, the first thing Murray did was switch on the lights.
Franz sat with perfect posture, not a hint of disorder in his appearance, his eyes closed. Slowly, he opened them and looked at Murray standing before him.
“Where’s Miss Clarence?”
“The young lady stayed in the studio for about an hour before returning home. I made sure she was safely escorted by carriage.”
“I see. Call Madame Dupont tomorrow.”
Madame Dupont—of Madame de Dupont, one of the most prestigious dress salons in the fashionable district of Vanessa—was a designer so renowned that noble ladies competed to get an appointment with her.
“Yes, sir. What kind of dress should I ask her to prepare?”
“Hmm…”
Franz tried to imagine what kind of dress would suit Iella, but nothing specific came to mind.
“Something that would suit Iella Clarence. Her taste is usually poor, so with a professional’s help it should be at least tolerable.”
Murray answered promptly. To him, the young lady’s appearance seemed refreshingly honest and unpretentious, but it wasn’t his place to comment.
“Understood. And tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Taylor will visit Grenville for the fitting of the outfit you’ll wear to the Rose Festival ball.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll prepare your bath so you can have dinner afterward.”
Without asking anything more, Murray left the office.
Having served Prince Franz since childhood, Murray couldn’t deny that he was curious about this sudden order—it was the first of its kind—but he decided it was best to pretend he knew nothing. His duty was to serve his master in comfort and to manage the affairs of the palace efficiently.
Lately, the prince’s behavior had been a bit out of the ordinary, and Murray found it… entertaining. Not that His Highness would admit there was anything unusual.
A small smile crossed Murray’s face, and his steps grew lighter.
As with the day before, Iella emerged into the lobby after her classes, but today the place seemed especially crowded.
“Is it because this is the main building? Why are there so many people?”
Lauren tilted her head, puzzled.
“Who knows.”
“I hate history class, but I do love the main building. You probably like both, right?”
Iella smiled in agreement at her friend’s question.
“But seriously, why is it so busy? Oh! Look over there!”
Iella followed the direction of Lauren’s pointing finger.
Ah!
A familiar carriage stood in front of the main building. In front of it were none other than Prince Franz and one of the so-called “F4,” Andrew Morris.
Only then did the bustle in the lobby—and the situation—make sense.
“What are those two doing at the academy?”
“Beats me.”
What’s going on now?
Her curiosity was short-lived, because as she stepped out of the lobby, her eyes met Franz’s.
It seemed they were destined to keep running into each other. And then—just as she saw him start to acknowledge her—she was startled out of her wits. Her mind went completely blank.
What are you doing right now?! No, you can’t!
She shook her head desperately.
Please! Not here.
With a pitiful expression and her hands clasped, she prayed silently. His refined brows knit together at the sight, but the dreaded disaster never happened.
Relieved, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then hurried past him.
Please. Don’t acknowledge me.
She didn’t even forget to chant that plea in her head.
Franz’s gaze followed her retreating back. Instead of being offended, he found himself amused—and even a little incredulous—at her reaction. He’d only been planning a little mischief, but seeing her bolt like that was almost comical.
That woman… she’s something else.
Yesterday she’d looked at him with eyes full of admiration, and today she was fleeing like she couldn’t shake him off fast enough. She was the complete opposite of people who fawned over him to flaunt their connection.
It was an utterly unexpected—and unprecedented—experience.
When he shifted his gaze, Andrew tilted his head.
“Were you waiting for someone?”
“Yeah. But she didn’t even say hello, just walked off.”
“Really? There’s someone like that? Guess she knows how to play coy.”
“Coy?”
Franz gave a short, amused laugh.
Coy, his foot.
This was a woman who could say, straight to his face, that she liked money. There was no word less fitting for Iella Clarence than “coy.”
“Who is she?”
“Someone.”
“Is she pretty?”
“No.”
“Aw.”
Andrew’s interest evaporated at once.
“Then why are you interested?”
“She’s amusing.”
Seeing that unusually genuine look on his friend’s face, Andrew smiled with curiosity.
“Oh? That’s unexpected.”
“I’m going ahead.”
Leaving Andrew behind, Franz turned away.
“Oh, are you going to the Count of Vermont’s place today?”
“Probably.”
“They throw parties so often… I guess you should go once more since you’ve ignored the last few invitations. Alright, see you there.”
Grumbling in irritation, Andrew was patted on the shoulder before Franz climbed into the carriage.
As the carriage passed through a quieter area, the coachman spotted Iella peeking out from an alley and brought the horses to a halt.
“Good day, Mr. Wagon.”
She gave the coachman a warm smile, and Tom Wagon lifted his hat in greeting.
“Good day, miss.”
After a quick glance around, Iella hopped into the carriage before Tom could even open the door for her.
“Hello, Your Highness.”
Bowing stiffly with the air of someone guilty of a crime, she received no reply.
“…”
When she cautiously raised her head, she met his direct gaze, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She’d thought he might be angry, but it didn’t seem that way—relieving her enough to let out a small, secret sigh.
“You ran off so fast earlier.”
“I was just… startled.”
Franz looked at her steadily, as if waiting for her to continue.
“There were a lot of people, and… I wasn’t prepared for something like that so suddenly.”
As she stammered her excuses, he nodded.
“You didn’t forget our promise from yesterday, did you?”
“O-of course not! I just haven’t prepared yet—”
“Then that’s fine.”
“By the way, is something wrong?”
She had noticed the subtle change in his expression—it didn’t seem like anger, but it wasn’t quite pleasant either. Her unexpected question made him look at her as if wondering what she meant.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything… but she decided to be honest about what she felt.
“It’s like… the sky is covered with clouds, keeping it from shining its brilliant light. Not that Your Highness has no light in your face, of course.”
Hearing such smooth flattery from her lips, Franz smirked.
Comparing his face to the sky… he’d heard endless compliments and flattery before, but this wasn’t unpleasant.
“Your flattery skills are improving.”
“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth.”
Iella herself hadn’t expected she’d be so good at it. If she’d been born a man, she thought proudly, she’d have climbed the ladder of success in no time.
“Honestly, this isn’t even flattery. If you call this flattery, that’s just excessive modesty. You know you’re handsome, right?”
Even when she used to look at him like cattle in a pen, she’d acknowledged his good looks.
“I look in the mirror every day. If I claimed not to know, that would be modesty.”
“I never understood why everyone made such a fuss over you, but lately… I kind of get it.”
“Kind of?”
He gave her a look full of self-assured disbelief. She smiled playfully.
“For now.”
Franz let it go, turning to look out the window. Since she was making an effort to smooth things over, there was no reason not to accept it.
Outside, the sky was a clear, transparent blue, the clouds having passed.
When they arrived at Grenville, Murray himself came out to greet them.
“Welcome back, Your Highness.”
He smiled warmly at Iella and offered his arm.
“Welcome, miss.”
“Hello, Mr. Murray.”
Accepting his escort as she stepped down from the carriage, Iella greeted him brightly, and also thanked coachman Tom Wagon politely.
Murray’s expression was one of quiet satisfaction. The young lady treated the staff with genuine courtesy—clearly, her nature was rooted in good manners and character.
After years in the palace, he prided himself on his ability to judge people, and though he’d only known her a short time, he was confident his opinion of her was correct.
As they walked side by side into the entrance, Franz asked her,
“When did you get so friendly with Tom?”
“What? Oh, we’re not exactly close. We’ve just seen each other a few times. He has a nice face.”
“Does he?”
“Yes. He has a warm expression. Everyone here at Grenville does—they all seem kind and friendly.”
Thinking of the plump Tom Wagon, Franz nodded. For a moment, he wondered what Murray—with his exacting, almost cold demeanor—would think of that comment.
“Oh? Then what about Murray?”
Franz nodded toward Murray walking ahead. Iella covered her mouth and whispered quietly to him,
“He’s like a dashing old gentleman.”
“You hear that?”
Straightening from his slight lean toward her, Franz smiled. Ahead of them, Murray turned and gave a slight bow to Iella.
“Thank you, miss.”
“Oh my.”
While Iella flushed with embarrassment at realizing he’d heard her, Franz’s smile deepened. When their eyes met, she shot him a little glare.
“You really do have an eye for the ones in power.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“If you look for it, it’s probably there somewhere.”
