CHAPTER 92……………………….
Golden wavy hair, warm light-green eyes, and features sharper and more mature than in her memory.
Even though so much time had passed that she thought she would walk right past him without recognizing him, Cordelia knew him instinctively.
“…Pudding?”
“…Coco?”
Franz’s face went blank as he recalled the girl with short hair like the clear autumn sky and orange eyes.
“How are you here—”
“You! What flower did you give me as a gift at the Founding Festival twenty years ago?”
Remembering the fake “Pudding” she had just seen, Cordelia grabbed Franz’s arm and demanded an answer. She didn’t want to be swept away by the moment again and make the wrong choice.
Momentarily flustered, Franz saw her desperate expression and answered honestly.
“Lilac. It’s my favorite flower.”
“Do you like chocolate cake or not?”
“Mm, I hate sweets.”
“And the promise we made at the end?”
“We agreed to meet in front of the fountain. But… you never came.”
At his flawless answers, Cordelia’s knees gave out.
Franz quickly caught her.
“Are you okay?”
While she was at a loss for words at his gentle question—
“Father, what’s going on?”
Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Claire approached them.
“Ah, Claire. I just happened to run into someone I know…”
“Someone you know? You mean you know the Princess?”
“…The Princess?”
Franz’s eyes widened. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the girl he met at the Founding Festival twenty years ago would turn out to be the princess of Eldor.
Franz, who had only followed his sister back then to help her, looked down at Cordelia in bewilderment.
“Coco… you were a princess?”
“And you were a noble, Pudding.”
Cordelia gave a weak laugh. She couldn’t believe how she’d treated a noble boy like an ordinary commoner, calling him “Pudding” all those days.
Claire, listening to their exchange, perked up.
“Pudding? Isn’t that the name of the princess’s first love…?”
Then why is she calling Franz by that name?
Puzzled, she suddenly realized something and covered her mouth.
So the first love who looked like her… was Franz.
“Oh my god…”
She muttered in shock without meaning to. Meanwhile, conscious of onlookers, Franz addressed Cordelia formally.
“Greetings to Her Highness, Princess of Eldor. I am Franz Ravello, Marquis.”
Then, leaning in slightly, he whispered:
“Would you allow me a private word?”
“…Alright.”
Her cheeks flushed at the closeness of his face, but Cordelia nodded.
The two excused themselves to Claire and walked deeper into the garden. Eventually, they came across a bench.
Franz pulled out a handkerchief, laid it on the bench, and offered it to her.
“Please, sit.”
“…Thank you.”
They sat side by side, facing forward, and an awkward silence stretched between them—until Franz spoke first.
“May I ask how you’ve been? Of course, being a princess, I’m sure you lived well, but…”
He rubbed his lips with a faint smile, and for some reason, Cordelia felt tears welling. She replied:
“Not all that well, actually. And… talk to me like you used to.”
“Ah, alright.”
Franz immediately complied, speaking again in his warm, gentle voice.
“Why not well?”
“Because I missed you.”
At last, confessing her feelings to the real Pudding, Cordelia lowered her eyes.
“I’m sorry for breaking our promise. My mother fell ill, and I had to return home urgently. I couldn’t say goodbye.”
“I see.”
Franz nodded, finally understanding why Coco had vanished so suddenly.
“You don’t seem very surprised?”
“I didn’t know you were a princess, but I did know you were from another country. I figured you’d eventually have to go back.”
Her slightly awkward accent back then had given him a clue. But he hadn’t asked, not wanting to ruin the mood.
Silence fell again, until Cordelia voiced the question that had weighed on her heart:
“Did you ever try to find me?”
Did you miss me too?
“Of course.”
Franz didn’t hesitate.
When she hadn’t shown up at their meeting place, he’d searched the city desperately for her. But when no trace could be found, he realized she must have returned to her homeland.
“I regretted it—wishing I’d asked more about you, cursing my lack of courage.”
“…”
“But to meet you again here… today I only came to help Claire.”
“…Right, Lady Ravello is your daughter.”
Cordelia recalled Claire calling him “Father.”
“Wait. Isn’t she nearly twenty?”
Frowning, Cordelia quickly did the math.
“So you had her when you were fifteen?”
“…”
“You didn’t already meet her mother when you met me, did you?”
It was too coincidental—they’d met when both were fifteen. The sweet memory threatened to collapse.
“Why aren’t you answering? Is it true…?”
“…”
Unable to reveal that Claire’s biological mother was Priscilla Slime, Franz stayed silent. He couldn’t think of a plausible excuse either; his mind went blank.
As the air grew unbearably tense—
“I’ll explain.”
Claire, who had secretly followed out of worry, finally stepped in.
Cordelia and Franz turned to her at once.
“The truth is… I’m not my father’s biological daughter.”
“…?!”
Both were shocked, though for different reasons.
“Wait, Claire—”
Franz tried to stop her, afraid she might expose too much, but Claire firmly continued:
“My real father is my grandfather. Due to circumstances, I was legally registered as my father’s daughter.”
It was a cover story she’d prepared long ago, just in case. Since Victor Ravello wasn’t in the Empire anyway, she could use his name without trouble—and it was true she was his child.
“So, you’re actually the late Marquis Ravello’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened at the complicated family history. Though she couldn’t fully grasp it, she felt relieved in one sense—her first love wasn’t ruined after all.
Turning back to Franz, she sought confirmation.
“Is what she said true?”
Catching Claire’s pleading look, Franz hesitated before answering.
“…Yes. But I consider Claire my daughter. I don’t want it known publicly that she carries my father’s blood.”
Cordelia already knew about the disgrace his father was under. Hearing the sincerity in Franz’s words, she fell silent in thought.
She had often assumed that unlike her, Franz might have built a family of his own by now. But this wasn’t the worst outcome she had feared.
Though there’s still something I need to confirm…
Gathering herself, Cordelia asked directly:
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Seeing anyone?”
“No.”
“Good.”
With a refreshing smile, she turned to Claire.
“Lady Ravello, I’ll be honest. I only refused your proposal because the Duke of Muton promised to help me find Pudding.”
“…I see.”
“And just earlier, I met who I thought was Pudding. But the real one is right here. Which means the one Muton brought was a fake.”
Cordelia gave a cold laugh.
“Though I had my suspicions already—His Highness the Crown Prince warned me this morning.”
“His Highness did?”
Claire’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t heard that from Theodore.
So he was helping me behind the scenes…
Grateful for a brief moment, she refocused.
“The Duke of Muton deceived you, Your Highness.”
“Exactly. To deceive me is a grave crime.”
Cordelia’s voice dropped low, ringing with resolve.
“I will not let this go unpunished.”
Her eyes blazed redder than the sunset.
