Dear, Come With Me - Chapter 33

“Y-Your Highness.”

“I hate those who waste my time. Do I need to have you dragged out in order for you to leave, Emilla Hustler?”

Everyone who worked in Ravello, from those in high stations down to those who did the smallest of chores, were known to the crown prince, and he would address them by name on occasion. The servants were always delighted when the crown prince recognized them, but Emilla couldn’t possibly be happy at this moment.

“I-I’ll take my leave,” Emilla stammered through clenched teeth. She backed away while trembling in fear, but not before she unrepentantly shot a murderous glare at Irene. Naturally, her glare was ignored by Irene as if it was nothing. It would later e to light that Emilla was never seen again on palace grounds after leaving her post that day. Rumors stated that she’d been spotted wandering the streets while blinded in one eye, but that would all e to pass much later.

Peace returned with Emilla’s departure, and the meal continued after the brief motion had concluded. The room was filled with the harmonious sounds of amicable conversation and the gently clanking of dishes, and even the occasional periods of silence felt pleasant. In the blink of an eye, the meal, which was satisfying in many ways for the two of them, was almost over.

“As Your Highness said, the chef’s dishes are excellent,” Irene mended. It’d been a long time since she’d eaten a proper meal, and her plexion looked much healthier. If Marie had been present, she would’ve broken into a happy dance.

“The chef will be proud of you eating well too,” Kael replied, using the chef as an excuse to eloquently express his feelings and encouragement. As the prepared desserts marking the final course of the meal were served, he added, “Today’s dessert consists of tropical fruit that has been frozen during import.”

“It’s my first time seeing it.”

“Is that so?”

Irene’s eyes followed Kael as she watched him get up from his seat, circle the table, and pull a chair over to sit at her side. ‘What is he going to do?’ Irene silently questioned.

It was unclear whether Kael knew of Irene’s thoughts, but he picked up the knife placed in front of her. “You only need to cut the flesh like this and eat it with a spoon,” he explained, as he began to expertly slice the fruit.

‘Why is the Crown Prince himself doing such a troublesome job?’ Dumbfounded by his actions, Irene struggled to understand Kael and stared blankly at him. However, realizing that it was rude to look one’s superior in the eye, she quickly lowered her gaze.

“Do I have to feed you?” Kael abruptly asked with a mischievous grin.

“Pardon?” Irene exclaimed. Doubting her ears, her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Kael found Irene’s subdued reaction adorable, and it only served to encourage his playfulness. The impish and childish self that he rarely displayed was slowly being drawn out in front of her. If Jean had been present, she would’ve chided, ‘You look just like when you were young, Your Highness.’

“Come on. Open your mouth,” Kael teased, as he scooped up a bite and held it out towards Irene.

“N-No…” Irene stammered. As she watched the spoon slowly approach her, she intentionally clenched her jaw and pursed her lips. The dignified look she’d diligently maintained instantly collapsed. Finding herself at a loss for the first time, the only thing she could do was blink.

“You don’t like it? But I scooped it for you, and my arm hurts now,” Kael joked. He could tell by the way Irene’s eyes faintly trembled that she was confused, but he was enjoying this moment with her. Affection shined warmly in his eyes as he carefully studied her. ‘It’s unbelievable that they called her a withered tree…’ he thought. It was clear to him that Irene was a person with many expressions, all of which looked pretty in his eyes. He enjoyed discovering all these little details about her, and made him scorn the Theorin people for giving her such a nonsensical nickname. “Oh, my arm is so tired,” he teased.