Chapter 63
“Ugh… huh? There’s more here! This time it’s a teddy bear, right? Wow, this one’s a puppy! …Hii, seeing a puppy makes me miss Hayang.”
Plita excitedly pulled out several cloth dolls from her bag, but then pouted, saying she missed Hayang. The puppy they had brought from Middlepion right after learning that Plita was sick had also been kept separate, out of concern that the illness might be transmitted through the puppy.
“When you’re fully recovered, we’ll bring Hayang back then.”
“What if Hayang forgets me by then?”
Plita asked Rose with a sulky expression, and Rose quietly smiled, soothing the child.
“She won’t forget. Would Your Highness forget Hayang?”
“No! I would never forget! Hayang is my friend!”
“Hayang feels the same. Your Highness is her friend, after all.”
“Ugh…”
Plita thought deeply about Rose’s words, then tightly hugged the puppy doll in her hands.
“Until then, this one’s my friend. No, they’re all my friends.”
“Your Highness, those are just old cloth dolls. Besides, they’re not even finished.”
“It’s okay. I’ll make them all my friends.”
Plita shook her head vigorously and hugged all the cloth dolls to her chest. Rose, unsure how to respond, comforted her again.
“All the dolls you used to play with have already been placed in the annex. So you can just give me these.”
“No! I like these ones better! Weren’t they made for me?”
“…!”
Plita’s tight embrace of the dolls, as if refusing to give them up, made Rose widen her eyes. Tears welled up in her own eyes, but she forced a smile and nodded slowly.
“…That’s right, Your Highness. They were made for you.”
“Hehe, see? I knew it all along.”
Plita gathered the cloth dolls and stood up. Her eyes curved into crescents, clearly pleased to hear that they were made for her.
“Now, it’s time to go to bed and rest, right? You promised.”
“Mm, then what about you, Rose?”
“I’ll finish organizing my bag.”
“Here?”
“Of course, here.”
Plita nodded, reassured, and headed to the bed. She snuggled under the covers, fiddling with the dolls, smiling.
“I like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being here, just you and me. Without a nanny. Like when I went traveling with Dad.”
“….”
“Rose is right. It feels like a picnic… cough. A picnic.”
Plita coughed mid-sentence but still smiled brightly. Rose gave a soft, smiling glance, wrapped the child carefully in the blanket, and then turned around under the pretense of organizing her bag.
Tears fell in a sudden rush, landing in droplets on the clothes she had taken out of her bag.
It wasn’t a lie that the dolls had been made for the child—they were indeed made with the child in mind, before coming to the capital, before receiving the terminal prognosis.
However, since they couldn’t actually be given, and the child would have better things than these patchwork dolls, Rose had left them incomplete and stored somewhere.
She had brought them along, as if clinging to a lingering attachment, tucked among clothes under the label “useless junk.”
‘…If I had known I’d actually give them, I should have finished them properly.’
Wiping her tears, Rose finished organizing her bag and stood up.
The dolls, made from cheap cloth scraps, were still enough to keep the child entertained. Seeing that, Rose smiled, then turned to survey the room.
Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any cleaning to do immediately. Since this was where the princess would stay, the staff had already cleaned meticulously, leaving not a speck of dust.
‘So, what should I do first?’
It was still too early to prepare dinner. On the first day in the annex, there was no laundry to do…
She chuckled. Even amidst this, she felt oddly relaxed, which was unfamiliar and slightly awkward.
“Cough!”
At that moment, Plita, playing with the dolls, coughed. Rose hurried over to her.
“Does your throat hurt, Your Highness?”
“Mm, a little… cough!”
Each time the child coughed, her handkerchief trembled. Rose watched her with concern before speaking again.
“Shall I make you some warm cocoa?”
“Cocoa? …Mm.”
Plita perked up at the word “cocoa” and nodded eagerly toward Rose.
“Just a moment, Your Highness. I’ll prepare it with dessert.”
Indeed, it was time to give the child a snack. Rose hurriedly got up to prepare dessert.
“Ah… thank goodness.”
Rose opened the oven with a tense expression, then smiled brightly. The strudel, filled with the scent of apples, was baked perfectly golden brown.
“I was worried I might fail since it’s my first time.”
Supporting the pan with her bandaged arm, she carefully took it out with the other hand. Normally, it should be lifted with both hands, but she balanced it carefully. Thankfully, she didn’t drop it.
She placed the pan on the table with a sigh of relief. The thinly sliced apple filling layered inside looked delicious.
“Mm, now to brush syrup on top…”
Plop.
“Ah.”
Something fell behind her. The child, startled, let out a small exclamation.
Rose turned quickly and saw Plita, picking up a cloth doll near the kitchen entrance, smile sheepishly upon meeting her gaze.
“Hey, Rose.”
“Your Highness! How did you get here…”
“Ugh, I was bored being alone.”
Plita giggled again, then cautiously asked,
“Can I stay in here?”
“Um… yes, Your Highness.”
Rose looked around for anything dangerous in the kitchen, then smiled and confirmed it was safe. She wanted to give the child, always constrained by public eyes, the freedom to move around.
“Wow… hmm? What’s that smell?”
The sweet apple scent was irresistible, even through her handkerchief. Freshly baked strudel made the aroma fill the kitchen.
“Huh? What? Did Rose make this?”
The child stretched on tiptoe to see the strudel on the table but couldn’t see properly due to her height. Rose chuckled, then fetched a chair from the side of the kitchen.
“Can you sit here, Your Highness?”
Because of her injured arm, Rose couldn’t lift Plita onto the chair, so she asked apologetically. Plita quickly nodded and climbed onto the chair with effort. Her stuffed rabbit doll followed her onto the table.
“I can manage myself, Rose. Don’t worry.”
Plita confidently reassured her. Seeing the strudel on the table, her eyes widened.
“Wow, this… did you bake it, Rose?”
“Yes. It’s my first time baking properly, so I don’t know how it will taste.”
When she lived in a small border town, she hadn’t even known about such luxurious desserts. It was only after coming to the duke’s residence that she had the chance to observe and learn about them.
“It looks really delicious! I want to eat…”
“Ah, not yet, Your Highness. We have to brush the syrup and sprinkle sugar powder on top first.”
Rose stopped the child and explained. Plita’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar terms.
“Syrup? Sugar powder?”
“Yes. With this brush, first evenly coat the syrup. Then sprinkle the sugar powder on top, like snow… Your Highness?”
“Um, can I try it?”
Rose was about to continue explaining but saw Plita’s eyes shining at her. The child raised her hand eagerly, asking earnestly.
Surprised by the sudden request, Rose blinked in disbelief.
“You want to try it yourself? This… brush the syrup…”
“Yes! I want to brush the syrup and sprinkle the sugar powder too!”
Plita nodded enthusiastically. Rose hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. Seeing her childlike anticipation, she realized there was no reason not to let her.
“There’s nothing to stop us while we’re alone here. After all, we’re on a picnic.”
“R-right? Yup! Picnic! We’re on a picnic!”
Plita, noticing Rose’s response, brightened and echoed happily. Rose quietly observed the child; she seemed brighter than when staying in the duke’s main residence, despite her still-weak condition.
Somehow, this moment felt closer to a normal five-year-old child—peeking around while her mother cooks in the kitchen, just like any ordinary household.
“All right. Then I’ll leave it to you, Your Highness.”
Rose handed the syrup bowl and brush to Plita. The child set down her stuffed doll on the table, held the tools with both hands, eyes sparkling.
“Apply it nicely, Your Highness. Meanwhile, I’ll clean up.”
“Okay! Don’t worry. I’ll do it well.”
Plita patted her chest confidently, then perched on the chair, kneeling carefully, and dipped the brush into the syrup.
The sweet apple scent filled the kitchen even more warmly. It was a cooking moment with a young daughter that Rose had never experienced before.
