Previously
Cornelia challenges Irenia to 'tame' Caesar and present him as a functioning human at the summer ball in exchange for the Blue Flame Dream jewel and official recognition.
The state of cleanliness in the palace was utterly deplorable. My bedroom was marginally better, but only because it had received a hasty, superficial tidy-up. And how did I discover this?
“It looks like they only cleaned where it shows.”
The revelation came courtesy of the prince himself, who was caked in dust as though he had gathered all the dirt in the world just by sitting down on the floor beneath my bed.
I set about brushing the dust off his clothes, hastily fishing a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe away the grime clinging to him. Yet the white cloth quickly turned pitch-black, until I realized a single handkerchief would never suffice.
“Here.”
Caesar held out the pillow he had tossed aside earlier, gently pressing it against me. The moment I caught it, a soft, helpless laugh slipped past my lips.
“Ah-ha.”
It was nothing to laugh at, yet I burst out laughing and could not stop. I clutched my stomach and laughed until Caesar peered at me in bewilderment, cocking his head back and forth.
“Ah, I’m sorry… It’s just so funny…”
Covered in dust from head to toe, he looked so utterly wretched that it was equally comical. I could not rein in my laughter until tears welled in my eyes.
Amid the heavy clouds cloaking my heart, this dust-caked prince had barged into my world, disheveled and filthy, lacking every shred of royal dignity. Oddly enough, I felt no repulsion. Quite the opposite—a warm feeling I could hardly explain bloomed within me.
Ever since arriving at the Imperial Palace, I had not known a single moment of peace. Constricting gowns, stiff shoes, looks piercing through me as though I were some freakish curiosity, eyes trailing my every step… Had I kept dwelling on those gazes, I would have withered away day by day.
It felt as though the very splendor of this place whispered to me: no matter how much silk you wear or how many jewels you drape on yourself, this luxury will never suit you. This place is not for someone like you—a crippled, lowborn wretch, a forgotten bastard. The contempt directed at you is well-deserved, and you should be grateful simply to be alive.
A tightness crept into my chest as if the air had been cut off, shrinking my lungs. The sheer stress made me sick to my stomach. I had resorted to pressing my mouth against wherever drafts trickled through, fighting for breath.
At times, a fierce impulse to scream welled from deep inside me; at others, that surge turned into a terror that froze my limbs solid.
It was like walking a tightrope between two cliffs, where a single misstep would plunge me into the abyss.
Yet just then, the small thing Caesar handed me broke my fall—a simple pillow, but it halted my heart’s dizzying plunge.
He bore the dirt and dust of the earth, unbound by any law or decorum… and yet, it felt wonderful beyond words. The dark clouds inside me began to part, and a faint chuckle started to dissolve the gloom over my soul.
“Still, we cannot leave you like this.”
Much as I understood how it happened, the state he was in was far too filthy to tolerate.
‘I must make him look presentable.’
Cleanliness was the foremost measure of a first impression, so I pushed his shaggy hair back a little. His handsome forehead emerged, framed by straight, broad brows, and his enchanting red eyes followed the motion of my hand. The high bridge of his nose cast an elegant shadow across his perfectly balanced features, and warmth crept into my cheeks. I hurried to pull the bell rope to summon a maid.
“Is His Highness here?”
Mercedes had entered the room, looking as though she had searched for him at length before letting out a sigh of relief upon spotting him.
“I believe it is time for his bath.”
“A bath?!”
“Yes.”
“But…”
Mercedes went pale.
“Can you not see how dirty he is?”
“Still…”
I paid no heed to her hesitation, and before long she returned with several servants, her expression set with resolve.
“See you soon, Caesar.”
I bade him farewell with a bright wave. Every few moments he glanced back, his eyes practically pleading with me, but I assumed it was nothing more than a simple bath. What trouble could there be?
“…Right?”
I muttered absently, unsure whether I was speaking to myself or to him.
It did not take long to discover that my bad feeling had been entirely justified.
A deafening roar broke out, followed by the sound of something shattering. Then came the groans of servants and the tremor of the floor, as though a massive beast—a wild boar or a bear—were charging straight toward us.
Heavy thuds echoed down the hall, drawing closer and closer, until suddenly they slammed into the closed door and split it right down the middle.
“Huh?”
And who should it be but Caesar, bursting into the room stark naked, without a stitch of clothing to cover him!
“Ah?! Eek!”
He lunged at me like a kingfisher swooping upon its prey, heading straight for the bed where I was sitting.
He looked fresh from the bath, his body warm and dripping wet, radiating a faint scent.
I froze in place, unable to move, as his arms wrapped around me. Only moments later, rushed footsteps approached.
“Your Highness!”
It was Mercedes, but she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing his arms tightened around my waist and his hands trembling.
“Ah… well…”
The situation was utterly mortifying. I tried covering him with a linen sheet from the bed, but the damp fabric offered little help.
I averted my gaze as best I could, yet my eyes were pulled toward him against my will, as though a force drew me to him. It was the first time I had ever seen a young man my age completely naked like this.
When we were children, it had not been unusual among the servants or household children, but once we grew up, I had never laid eyes on such a thing again.
His frame, twice the size of mine, had left boyhood behind and taken on the firm build of a man.
His tight muscles flexed and relaxed with every breath, making me fight a fierce urge to reach out and touch him.
His skin had a smooth, creamy ivory tone, and the droplets clinging to it gleamed like gemstones…
Good heavens, what in the world was I thinking? I began muttering verses of scripture under my breath, desperate to reclaim my composure.
“Merciful Lord, deliver us from sin, and lead us not into the devil’s temptation…”
“It seems bathing takes a great toll on His Highness,”
Mercedes said, draping a linen sheet over his body.
“Let us end it here.”
She then began drying him off, preparing to dress him again.
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes?”
“He hasn’t been properly washed yet.”
“Still…”
Her eyes wavered. I watched her in silence.
“If he resists like this…”
“Even so…”
She looked at me for a moment, a certain hardness settling into her gaze before she spoke.
“What if Your Highness were to assist him?”
“What?”
Was she asking me to help Caesar bathe?
“Since Your Highness wishes for him to bathe, it would be best if you took the lead. We cannot leave him wet like this; he will catch a cold.”
Leaving him like this was out of the question, but still…
“I have never done anything of the sort before.”
I had washed clothes before, but I had never helped another person bathe, nor did I have the faintest idea how it was done. My presence would not help; it would only cause trouble.
Yet Mercedes gave a resolute shake of her head.
“Caring for one’s husband is a wife’s duty. Your presence at his side will be a great comfort.”
“…Very well.”
I had no choice. Resigning myself, I changed into simpler attire and accompanied him to the bathhouse.
Old though the palace was, it remained an imperial residence. I was astonished by the sight of the grand, remarkably appointed bath. What amazed me most was the hot water flowing straight from metal pipes.
When the servants poured priming water and worked the pump, a rattling gurgle echoed from behind the pipe, and hot water poured into a wide copper tub.
It was said that when the palace was first designed, several innovative magical fixtures were incorporated into it. Among those magical devices was this very pipe that dispensed hot water.
The inventor was supposedly Cosimo Flores, the Great Wizard and founder of House Flores, an ancestor on my father’s side.
I knew all too well how much effort was required to obtain hot water. Firewood had to be burned all day just to boil it, and hauling it up to the chambers demanded a great deal of coin and labor.
Using hot water freely was therefore a lavish luxury even among high-ranking noble families—a true display of immense wealth.
I lingered, pacing about to marvel at the wondrous magical apparatus and touching it with curious fingers, my mouth hanging open in sheer admiration, until the preparations for the bath appeared complete.
Caesar was already dressed in a bathrobe. And oh, how grateful I was that he was no longer naked!
FADE OUT