IGMDSML 07

Chapter 07

The thought of the child spending over three months alone in this large, dark room made her chest tighten.

“Prince… there you are.”

Marisel found Fleur curled up behind the headboard.

He didn’t move at all, staring blankly like a mannequin.

His clothes were filthy and smelled faintly. His hair was matted, and his vacant eyes seemed completely empty.

Her heart ached. What could she even say to this child?

Marisel sat down a few steps away, in silence.

Time passed. Finally, she spoke.

“Prince, from now on, I’ll take care of you until you tell me to stop. I’ll be right here with you every day. And starting today, you’ll sleep here too. Oh! Don’t worry—you won’t be sharing your bed. I’ll bring my mattress from my room and place it next to yours.”

She deliberately avoided saying she would care for him like a mother.

Marisel judged that shielding Fleur from any connection to his painful past and slowly building a new relationship was better for him.

It also helped that Fleur did not know what a mother’s presence meant.

She imposed nothing, ensuring he never felt fear, discomfort, or loneliness, and centered the daily routine entirely around him.

At first, nothing changed. Day by day, the routine continued. Three days… four days… then a week passed. Finally, change began.

“Fleur is eating meals with the nanny?”

Morgan repeated the report skeptically.

“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Since when?”
“Since this morning.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Today is her eighth day.”

Morgan paused his work.

He had hired Marisel half in doubt.

When he first heard that she had entered Fleur’s room and slept there on the very first day, he had thought her unusual.

From the start, her actions were unlike any other nanny’s.

A child who feared people was now eating with someone else… Morgan could hardly believe it, even though he had longed for it.

Fleur had avoided adult men for so long that even the old and harmless Porre could not approach him easily.

Only a diminutive woman could get close.

After that, he had tried hiring gentle or soft-featured nannies. All in vain.

The reason he hired Marisel was simple: she was entirely different.

He had been impressed by how she acted toward common children in the marketplace—fearful yet fearless in a careful, attentive way. And she happened to appear on the nanny application that day.

Curiosity drew him in, and he felt confident she could take responsibility for Fleur.

So he called the inexperienced woman for an interview.

Thinking back, she had been the only one to fall asleep in the Grand Duke’s reception room.

And she had cited herself as the second reason she should become the nanny. Looking back, it was cheeky. He smirked.

“Oh, so she thinks because I’m not interested, she won’t be a nuisance?”

The thought lingered oddly, gnawing at his mind. Morgan frowned without realizing it.

“Your Excellency, is there a problem with the report…?”
“Ah, no. Continue with the next one.”

“Prince, try some of this too.”

Marisel placed small pieces of mushroom on Fleur’s plate.

“How is it?”

Fleur chewed tentatively, grimacing.

“If you don’t like it, it’s okay to spit it out. Here.”

She quickly offered a napkin, demonstrating with a smile how to use it.

Only then did Fleur feel safe enough to spit the mushroom onto the napkin.

“Was it the texture? Or the taste? One or two?”

Fleur pointed to two, indicating the taste.

Marisel’s question was meant to gather information for future picky-eating guidance.

For now, safety and a sense of security were far more important than food preferences. But collecting the data would be useful later.

For a full week, Marisel slept in the same room as Fleur and shared endless stories of daily life.

Foals were born, hens laid eggs, dreams from last night, a white rabbit visited the garden, a black cat climbed a tree, dandelions bloomed… when yellow dandelions turned white, they could go out and blow them together. She told him these harmless, ordinary stories.

For a patient recovering, sharing daily life is crucial.

So Marisel continued, whether he reacted or not, like clear water slowly purifying murky waters.

Eventually, Fleur met her gaze and allowed her to approach.

“Prince, tomorrow shall we go see the flowers in the garden? There’s a white, fluffy dandelion. I want to blow it with you. What do you think?”

Marisel continued, mixing vegetables with meat as she spoke.

“If you blow on it, each tiny seed floats in the air, so pretty. You must see it yourself… Aren’t you curious?”

Fleur had never walked in the garden. He only looked at it from inside.

He had never felt the changing seasons. Following his succession lessons was already overwhelming. Falling behind meant his parents’ cold disdain.

He wanted to succeed, to be recognized as useful. The lessons were his only path to acknowledgment.

He focused solely on his studies. Yet one day, riding in a carriage with his parents, he saw a child his age holding hands with theirs, laughing.

Even in shabby clothes, that child looked happy. Fleur felt envy. He wanted happiness too.

He wanted to hold hands with his parents and walk smiling.

And now Marisel was inviting him to see flowers. He didn’t even know what a dandelion was. Fluffy seeds floating in the air? He had never imagined it.

He thought of the child in the carriage.

Would he feel happy blowing dandelions with Marisel? What if he did it wrong? Would she scold him?

No. Marisel had never forced him to do anything he disliked. She had reassured him even when he made mistakes, saying adults make mistakes too, so it was fine for a child.

He wanted to see the dandelions with her. Marisel seemed safe.

He nodded.

“Wonderful! Well thought, Prince! Then our adventure will be in the spring garden after lunch tomorrow!”

The Grand Duke’s vast garden was divided into spring, summer, fall, and winter themes.

The sections weren’t sharply separated.

The spring garden was filled with flowers and trees that bloomed in spring, a tradition started by the late Grand Duchess who loved gardening.

On a peaceful afternoon, bathed in warm sunlight, Marisel held Fleur’s hand tightly as they walked.

Fleur marveled at how she seemed to know exactly when to hold his hand.

Could Marisel actually see people’s hearts? he wondered.

He felt joy simply walking hand-in-hand with her.

Marisel paused whenever she recognized a flower or plant, explaining what it was.

She even caught a ladybug from the leaves and showed it on her palm.

It was a continuous stream of surprises for Fleur.

“Ah! Prince! Look at this. A white dandelion!”

Marisel ran forward, sat on the grass, and waved him over.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Seeing her smile, Fleur smiled too.

It was amazing. Tiny white tufts gathered into small, round clusters, just as she said.

“The yellow dandelion isn’t one flower—it’s made up of around two hundred tiny ones! And these little seed-like things here are the fruit of the dandelion. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Marisel’s excitement was contagious. Fleur squatted, listening carefully and observing the dandelions.

Two hundred flowers forming one? Tiny seeds? The little plant amazed him.

And Marisel, who knew all this, seemed incredible.