IGMU 37

Chapter 37

“Thank goodness.”

“Of course. I can’t stand money being wasted.”

Eiela walked gracefully over and stopped at Franz’s side. He arched one brow and looked up at her.

“What are you doing?”

“How are the shoes?”

Franz glanced briefly down at the shoes, then looked back up at her.

“They’re pretty. They suit you.”

“I picked these out myself.”

Franz stroked his chin, surprised. But then he gave her a smile that seemed to say she’d done well.

“Really? Nicely done.”

“Franz.”

When Eiela suddenly called his name, his gaze shifted strangely. Meeting his faint smile head-on, she said quietly,

“I’ll gratefully accept just this one.”

“……”

“I’m not saying I won’t wear the others. But it feels overwhelming to accept so many dresses all at once. I don’t even have anywhere to put them.”

It was only after a long pause that Franz spoke again.

“I find it hard to believe that Madam Linton’s house doesn’t have room for such a paltry number of dresses.”

It was true, but there are some truths one simply doesn’t want to hear.

“Well… as long as I wear them only in front of Your Highness, right? To please your aesthetic sense.”

She used what he had said earlier in the drawing room as an excuse.

“So what you’re saying is I should build you a dressing room here in my palace?”

Franz let out a laugh, as if dumbfounded.

“What? No, no, that’s not what I meant! I only meant—”

Eiela flailed her hands in panic, fearing she might have angered him. She scrambled to pile on explanations, but he wasn’t listening.

After silently observing her for a while, Franz lowered his head and opened a book.

“Sit.”

“…Pardon?”

“How long do you mean to make me keep looking up at you?”

“Ah—yes!”

Startled by the sharp remark, Eiela immediately sat down beside him, at the seat diagonal to his.

“Um… Franz…”

“Do as you please. Wherever you sit, it doesn’t change who owns the place. I already gave you a studio—what’s a dressing room compared to that? But…”

Still reading, he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

“…Why only a pair of shoes?”

He was genuinely curious. Out of all the expensive items, why choose just footwear?

“Well, you see… they say good shoes take you to good places. You might scoff, Your Highness, since your whole life has been a bed of roses. But for me, it feels like a good pair of shoes might really carry me somewhere better. The moment I saw these, I just had that feeling.”

“Ah.”

So that’s why she always wore modest, even shabby dresses, yet her shoes were always impeccable, Franz thought.

Not knowing his thoughts, Eiela simply believed he understood her.

“But… why are you so good to me? Honestly, I feel like I’ve done little right by you, and mostly wrong.”

Her own approach to him had its reasons, but his kindness confused her. He surely knew her intentions by now—so why tolerate it? Was it really just because of the proposal he had made her?

“Wrong is wrong. But we’re already comrades in the same boat. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven everything—so make it up to me by doing well from now on.”

And besides, I’m curious how far you’ll transform.

He swallowed that last thought, smiling at her with an innocent expression. The look and tone carried a weight of responsibility that Eiela couldn’t ignore.

“Yes! I won’t let Your Highness’s precious money go to waste, either.”

It was a little off the mark, but not entirely wrong. Franz accepted it with a slight nod.

Eiela spread her sketching tools on the table. Franz looked over at her again.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just do some light sketches today. You can keep reading comfortably, Your Highness.”

“When will you start the actual work?”

“Tomorrow. The sooner the better, since you’re busy. Does that work?”

“Fine. That’s good.”

He nodded lightly. Eiela settled into position to draw.

“Then let’s each do our own work now.”

“Agreed.”

Franz began reading with flawless poise. Watching him, Eiela swiftly set her pencil to paper.

Her expression grew serious as she looked at him. Her eyes sharpened, deep with focus.

The silence was filled only with the sound of pages turning and the scratch of pencil on paper. Gradually, the blank canvas filled with Franz’s image.

At one point, Eiela found herself genuinely awestruck. Even such an ordinary posture—reading a book—can look so graceful. Even the simple act of turning a page carries dignity. She couldn’t deny it.

Not that it’s my place to be “acknowledging” him, she thought, faintly embarrassed.

Yet through her encounters with him, she’d already come to recognize Franz not just as a royal wastrel but as a true prince of Lapland. He was far from negligent in his duties, and his innate nobility was nothing like the rumors painted.

From now on, she resolved, she would never judge anyone by rumor or appearances alone. The realization made her feel oddly grown-up, even proud of herself.

Sketch after sketch flowed out.

Eiela lost track of time as she drew, while Franz, having turned the final page of his book, glanced at her with curiosity. She had been absorbed, eyes at times sharp, at times dreamy, utterly unaware of his gaze.

I don’t think I’ve ever looked at someone this intently before, he realized, frowning faintly at the thought—but a smile tugged at his lips regardless. It was strange, having two such feelings coexist. Perhaps that’s why he kept leaving her so much leeway.

Suddenly he wondered what her sketches looked like. What kind of “Franz” did she see?

But not wanting to interrupt her passion, he simply reached for a cigar instead. After clipping the head and lighting it, he leaned back, exhaling smoke with satisfaction.

He stretched his long legs onto the ottoman and watched the smoke drift lazily—until a breeze sent it wafting toward Eiela.

“Ah!”

Hit in the face by smoke, she burst into a fit of coughing.

“Cough, cough—!” She scowled at him through teary eyes.

Her little frown was more adorable than cross, which made Franz chuckle. He shrugged as if regretful, though the gesture somehow made it worse.

Oh, honestly…

And then the breeze betrayed her again, sending another wave of smoke her way. She coughed harder, wincing.

She finally stood and moved to the opposite side, glaring at him. Franz said nothing, simply watching.

“Phew.”

He exhaled calmly, wearing an odd expression.

Eiela’s concentration was broken. Her hand stilled on the page, all attention fixed on the drifting smoke.

Then, inexplicably, the wind shifted again—and blew the smoke straight back at her.