CHAPTER 113………………………………
Gabriel approached me and suddenly grabbed my hand.
“Welcome back. You must have endured a lot all the way there.”
Saying that, Gabriel looked genuinely happy, as if she had no memory of ever plotting against me in the past.
Back then, it was relatively easy to read her, but at some point, she became difficult to understand.
I quickly pulled my hand away from Gabriel and said directly to her brazen face:
“If I had known Her Highness would welcome me like this, I would have returned sooner. Sorry for being late.”
I had heard that the rumor about me being unjustly confined after Archibald’s confession had quickly spread through high society.
Gabriel must have realized that she couldn’t stop that rumor and chose to accept it.
“Don’t say that. This whole thing was truly shocking. I never would have imagined Archibald could do such a thing…”
“Archibald seemed to worry a lot about you until the end, Gabriel.”
“He dreamed of something far beyond his station. I knew his gaze was disrespectful, but I never thought it was of this kind…”
Gabriel’s eyes were red with shame, and tears glistened, yet her lips carried a smile.
I didn’t know how she managed to bypass the surveillance to make contact, but it was clear that she had ordered Archibald to confess falsely and commit suicide.
Yet, the method she used was beyond my comprehension.
At times like this, I regretted that bastard’s death and muttered to myself without realizing it:
“The dead have no words…”
“Of course. The dead have no words.”
Gabriel picked up on my muttering and echoed it.
My expression reflected a chill I hadn’t intended, but Gabriel kept smiling as if nothing had changed.
It almost felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of us.
“Ughhh…”
Mars, who had been collapsed, suddenly started gagging.
Ah, so he was still here.
No wonder I felt something underfoot.
“My, we completely forgot about Mars,” Gabriel said, noticing him belatedly. She laughed playfully and summoned someone to carry Mars back to the prince’s palace.
It was completely different from the original story.
In the original, Mars loved drinking until the end of the story, but he never became addicted.
Why had things gone so wrong this time?
Watching his insignificant figure being carried away, I casually asked Gabriel:
“My brother seems to have gotten quite unwell while I was away.”
“Even worrying about Mars, Your Highness is truly kind.”
“He may look like that, but he is still my brother.”
“And he is my husband,” Gabriel added firmly, as if warning me not to meddle in Mars’ affairs.
Her smile had vanished, replaced by a strict expression.
It was the complete opposite of her earlier gentle demeanor.
“I will take care of Mars with all my heart. Your Highness, please stop worrying.”
For some reason, I felt irritated. She suddenly turned and retraced her steps without a sound.
Even though she was wearing heels, it was strange how she made no noise at all.
News of Princess Minerva’s return spread widely.
It all started with the invitations announcing Minerva’s reinstatement.
Perhaps for that reason, Eupheteria invited Minerva to tonight’s dinner, along with the children, including Lloyd.
‘Honestly, I’m not worried about Aila. And the Duke… well, he’s an adult.’
The problem was Aslan.
“Your Majesty, are you well?”
“Well! I said I’m well!”
“Well or fine, it’s all the same.”
Aslan kept arbitrarily changing difficult words.
Perhaps it wasn’t because he found them difficult.
Instinctively, he refused to speak the words a subordinate would say to a superior.
How often had this cat experienced proper manners in his life?
When he did nothing, humans fed him, played with him, and adored him.
When he got angry, humans immediately submitted and cheered him up.
As a cat, Aslan was a god.
Even after becoming human, his status as Minerva’s daughter allowed him to remain unrivaled.
But now, being forced to speak respectfully to someone higher than him wounded his pride. Previously, he had subtly elevated himself in front of Eupheteria.
Even if Eupheteria had ignored it then, doing the same at dinner would be hard to recover from.
‘Ugh, I can’t just stay silent in front of His Majesty!’
Minerva pressed her forehead and collapsed onto the sofa. Lloyd quickly handed her cold water.
She sighed deeply while being attended to by him.
“What should I do, Duke…?”
“There must be some way, Your Highness. Giving up is out of the question.”
Perhaps if she had tried to bribe Aslan, as she did when teaching him table manners, it might have worked.
But Minerva decided not to use that method anymore.
‘There must be a better way…’
As Minerva pondered, the etiquette prodigy Aila whispered to Aslan:
“Aslan, why don’t you want to use polite language?”
“I can’t acknowledge humans higher than me.”
Aslan’s difficulty with etiquette was partly because he hadn’t fully discarded his feline mindset.
Even the highest humans were nothing compared to a cat’s charm.
Like any cat, Aslan took the good and spat out the bad.
Aila saw Aslan sulking on the floor and also went into deep thought.
“Aha!”
Having thought of a clever idea, Aila whispered it to Minerva.
Minerva’s eyes widened, and she gave a thumbs-up.
Aila nodded resolutely and approached Aslan again to coax him gently.
“But Aslan, using polite language has its benefits.”
“Like what?”
“It makes a person look very smart.”
“Really?”
Aslan’s ears perked up.
Seizing the moment, Minerva added encouragement:
“Then let’s all play a polite language game today, our whole family! How about it?”
“Do we have to use polite language with each other? We’re all close.”
“Even among friends, many still use polite language. It’s the easiest way to show respect and consideration. Right, Duke?”
“Yes, indeed.”
With Lloyd joining, Aslan hesitated.
He often caused trouble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t respect Minerva, Aila, or Lloyd.
They were precious to him, and he wanted to help, but sometimes he misstepped.
Minerva often got upset, but now, even using polite language could express that he meant no harm and still cared.
‘It’s different from with Mom.’
Aslan wasn’t unfamiliar with respectful language; it was just different from human standards.
And when humans used polite language toward him, he was pleased enough to purr loudly.
Aila beckoned him quietly with a secretive gesture.
“Also, if you use polite language well with His Majesty…”
Aslan had his way of life, and Aila had hers.
Aila’s method easily won over adults she’d just met.
Her whisper was enough to motivate Aslan.
“Mom, teach me more polite language!”
He quickly corrected his speech to polite form, and it counted.
Minerva and Lloyd, surprised at Aslan’s sudden change, looked at Aila.
“Aila, what did you say?”
“It’s a secret,” Aila said mischievously.
Regardless, it was good that Aslan was motivated.
“If we’re going to do this, let’s make it a bet! Whoever uses polite language best gets their wish granted!”
“Hmm, fine. Let’s do that.”
Though it involved action, everyone except Aslan had more experience with polite language, so they accepted his challenge without much thought—only to regret it by the evening
