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Chapter 18
Amélie seemed more at ease now and returned to Lucian’s side. The child’s soft, downy warmth still lingered in my arms. As soon as she sat back in her chair, Lucian spoke to her.
“Now, you must stay seated until dinner is over. Can you promise me that?”
“Yes. I promise, Lucian.”
Amélie answered obediently. Watching them like this, Lucian Grand Duke looked almost like an ordinary person raising a child. As Lucian laid a napkin across Amélie’s lap, Eleanor leaned toward me and whispered:
“He’s adorable, isn’t he, Sister?”
“Yes.”
That much, at least, was undeniable.
We were still absorbed in watching Amélie when Frederick entered the dining room. He looked the same as always—like a figure carved straight out of a saint’s portrait. And as always, the sight of him ignited that violent surge of anger inside me.
Perhaps the reason I feel more betrayed by Frederick than even by Eleanor or the Medici king is because I once truly trusted and loved him. The moment our eyes met, my blood turned cold.
Frederick smiled pleasantly. He addressed me.
“My apologies for being late, everyone. Preparations took longer than expected. Princess Belisa, I noticed you returned the flowers.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
A curt reply. Frederick fluttered those sugar-sculpted eyelashes of his.
“Next time, I’ll try to send a gift that pleases Your Highness.”
There is no such gift. I looked away from him. Frederick’s gaze shifted to Eleanor. She spoke with a playful smile:
“My sister rejected your flowers, Your Highness. I would’ve accepted them gladly, but she doesn’t really like flowers. Isn’t that right, Sister?”
Eleanor beamed.
It sounded like she was supporting me, but in truth, she was merely making herself appear easygoing and unaffected. I almost laughed. How cunning she is.
“That’s correct, Your Highness. If you must send flowers, please give them to Eleanor, not me.”
I backed her words. Eleanor widened her eyes and shook her head quickly.
“No! That’s not what I meant. I don’t need gifts.”
“…Enough. Eat.”
Lucian’s cold interruption cut through the air. I preferred his arrogance to this tedious conversation. Amélie grumbled in agreement.
“I’m hungry.”
“Ah. We can’t starve the child. Kyle.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
Servants rushed to serve the food. Lucian was the first to pick up his utensils. A suffocating meal began. No one looked remotely happy.
If Lucian hadn’t been busy helping Amélie eat, the silence would’ve been unbearable. What on earth was Frederick thinking when he arranged this dinner?
As the meal drew to an end, Frederick finally revealed his motive.
“Uncle, I haven’t thanked you properly yet—for bringing the princess here for me.”
Lucian lifted his eyes, staring at the crown prince. His reply was laced with disdain.
“You’re old enough to handle your own affairs. Act like it.”
Frederick’s relaxed smile cracked. Seeing them face to face like this, I finally understood. Frederick hates Lucian because he cannot surpass him. Lucian doesn’t even acknowledge Frederick, yet Frederick burns with the desire to crush him.
And now it was clear who held the upper hand.
Lucian.
I stifled laughter as I put food in my mouth.
“Huh? That man can’t take care of his own things? Even I can put on my socks by myself,” Amélie muttered.
“Exactly. Amélie can do it, but that fool can’t. Open your mouth. Eat this too.”
“Ew! I hate bell peppers! Lucian, you eat them!”
Even a child who dislikes vegetables dismissed him. Frederick’s face went pale. I glanced at him and chewed slowly.
So that’s what this meal was for—a show of gratitude for bringing me here.
I wondered why he’d been acting out of character. Now it made sense.
Because of my presence, Lucian’s residence wasn’t closed down. The ripple effect was noticeable—and beneficial.
✦ ✦ ✦
After the guests left, Frederick kicked the dining table.
Lucian had not yielded to him even once. Frederick fell into every verbal trap Lucian set, while Lucian barely acknowledged his existence. All his attention had been drawn away by that wretched little girl.
“Ha…”
Frederick ran a hand roughly through his hair.
But one thing was certain—
that little brat was Lucian’s weakness. Lucian acted like he could protect his vulnerabilities, but—
Carelessness always leads to disaster.
And children are easy targets.
Frederick’s lips curled into a frigid smile. He called his attendant.
“Kyle! Did you throw away those flowers?”
“N-no, Your Highness. Not yet.”
“Good.”
Frederick’s eyes glittered.
“Sort out the ones that are still intact and bring them to my chambers. Then bring Eleanor. At once.”
Kyle bowed. Refusing would only earn him a broken shin. Compliance was safer.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Eleanor quickly hid the strange expression on her face. She knew where the bouquet in her arms had come from. Belisa had thrown them away—just as always. Whatever Belisa discarded became Eleanor’s.
Eleanor buried her face in the flowers to hide her reaction.
“They’re beautiful, Your Highness!”
Someday, Eleanor hoped to possess something that was hers alone. She tested the waters.
“I’m glad there’s something you like.”
Frederick twined a lock of Eleanor’s hair around his finger, then lifted her easily and sat her—and the bouquet—on the table. He smirked.
“Eleanor, among all the accessories that come with Princess Belisa, you’re my favorite.”
The words were indifferent and cruel. But Eleanor had no choice but to smile through it. She had nothing of her own—not yet. Until her value rose, she needed to endure.
“Thank you for liking Eleanor. You do like me… don’t you?”
She glanced at him timidly, like a puppy wagging its tail. Eleanor playfully hooked her finger around his.
Frederick stroked her chin.
Lately, she was the only source of comfort he had.
“Of course. I like things that are easy. Complicated things give me a headache.”
His eyes glinted like a serpent’s.
“Complicated things?”
He chuckled, lowering his head. He brushed a slanted kiss against her lips, whispering:
“Yes. When something is difficult, I want to break it.”
His smile was slow and chilling. Belisa, to him, was the embodiment of challenge—a perfect opposite.
He narrowed his eyes, lips brushing Eleanor’s each time he spoke.
“Eleanor, will you help me?”
She blinked.
“Yes, Your Highness. Eleanor will do whatever you tell me to. Then… please give me a gift in return.”
“A gift?”
She nodded, greed flickering faintly in her round eyes.
“Something that belongs only to Eleanor. Even a single flower… even a single jewel. Just something that’s mine.”
Frederick kissed her again. Such an easy request. Eleanor was still simple.
“I’ll give you a necklace.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Eleanor bloomed into a smile. Frederick bent down, whispering into her ear. Her lashes fluttered slowly.
“Can you do it?”
“Yes. Eleanor has many places she can reach. And many things she knows how to do.”
“Then I’m honored to have met you, Eleanor.”
Frederick rubbed his lips against hers and pushed up her dress. Eleanor let out a tinkling, dewdrop-like laugh.
