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Chapter 08
“Alright, then, shall we begin the main event? Here we go~!”
Marisel plucked a fluffy, white dandelion and held it out to Fleur.
He blinked in surprise, eyes widening.
“It’s alright. It won’t die just because we pick it. By next spring, it will grow again.”
Marisel plucked one for herself as well, inhaled deeply, and blew hard on it.
The white seeds floated upward, drifting gently on the spring breeze under the warm sunlight.
Fleur watched, mesmerized.
A flower flying with wings on the wind…
His heart thumped.
He stared endlessly at the flower carried by the breeze.
In his eyes, once empty, there was no more void.
Only the clear sky remained.
Marisel felt a lump in her throat, nearly brought to tears.
“Prince, you try it too.”
Fleur gazed quietly at the dandelion in his hand, then blew with all his strength.
His flower, like Marisel’s, floated up and danced in the air.
He inhaled deeply and murmured unconsciously.
“P…pretty.”
‘Huh?’
Marisel froze, stunned that it had come from his lips.
A rush of emotion surged up in her chest.
She resisted the urge to react overly, wanting to keep calm so as not to startle him.
She decided to speak naturally, in case he spoke again.
“Isn’t it? I think it’s beautiful every time I see it. The dandelion that floats away on the wind will plant itself somewhere and bloom again. That’s how dandelions live…”
“……”
Fleur’s voice fell silent again.
‘Such a cute voice…’
A pang of disappointment, but it was fine. The prelude of hope had only just begun.
Marisel stood, shook her skirt, and offered her hand.
“Now, shall we explore the garden in our own way?”
“Emma, I think it’s time to change some clothes. Prepare about eight sets each in pink and blue tones.”
Marisel had been maintaining a routine of clothing to help Fleur feel stable.
When he felt unsettled, she kept changes minimal and repeated the same daily habits.
As part of this, she had several green dresses—soothing for the mind and body—rotating them each day.
But Fleur had grown much more stable, and the weather was getting warmer, so lighter clothing was needed.
While preparing new clothes, she wanted to introduce some color variety, so she asked Emma for help.
Emma had been assigned to the room next door, with access to both the Grand Duke’s and the Viscount’s wings.
She served as a link between the Viscount couple and Marisel.
Morgan had arranged this, considering Marisel’s temporary renouncement of holidays and the couple’s concern.
Marisel suggested a tea time with a small twist to the ordinary routine.
She hoped, like during their garden walk, Fleur might naturally find an opportunity to speak.
In a corner of the spring-blooming garden, refreshments were set up in a rotunda.
A lovely child, black hair like the silk of a night sky, eyes like a clear blue sky, seated before delicately arranged treats.
How could someone be so beautiful, charming, and endearing all at once?
He matched perfectly with the peaceful scenery—the willow trees swaying, roses dancing in the breeze.
She could have admired him all day and never grown tired.
“Wow—these cookies look so pretty and delicious. How do you make something like this?”
Marisel was astonished by the sight of the perfectly crafted cookies.
In a past life, she had tried baking cookies once… and failed utterly. Other crafts were manageable, but baking had been a disaster. She had concluded cookies were to be bought, not made, and never tried again.
‘Wait. Making cookies with Fleur could be fun. Maybe I have some skill this time… at least a delicate touch. Plus, he might talk naturally while we bake.’
“Prince, have you ever made cookies?”
Fleur shook his head without hesitation.
“Then would you like to make cookies with me?”
Marisel’s eyes sparkled as she spoke, and Fleur’s eyes lit up.
But his mouth drooped slightly, a worried frown forming.
“Don’t worry. I’ll… I’ll make sure to get the Grand Duke’s permission. I promise! Cross my heart!”
She extended her right pinky finger.
Fleur glanced between her hand and her face, confused.
Marisel smiled reassuringly.
“When we link your pinky with mine, it means we promise.”
Fleur hesitated at the unfamiliar ritual, worried something bad might happen if he broke it.
Marisel smiled again, calming him.
“It’s just a promise of my confidence in you, Prince. Nobody will be punished, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Finally, Fleur linked his pinky with hers.
Marisel pressed their thumbs together like a seal, swinging their joined hands in the air. Fleur’s face mirrored the movement, and a smile appeared on it, tracing a gentle arc along his lips.
Late at night, outside Morgan’s study.
‘Should I knock? No, wait a little longer…?’
Marisel paced back and forth, hesitating, then returning to the door repeatedly.
‘He doesn’t like interruptions during work… I can’t risk disturbing him.’
But if she waited all night, what about Fleur?
She couldn’t decide.
“Your Excellency Morgan!”
“Why are you using formal speech again? So annoying.”
Morgan didn’t look up from his papers, replying irritably.
“Let’s wrap it up. I want to go home early today. My mother might forget my face otherwise.”
“Since when have you been the son? Stop whining.”
“I told the nanny I wanted to leave early today. It just so happens Your Excellency are free now.”
“What?”
“Earlier, I went to see Porre, and Marisel was discussing something with him. She needed your advice about Fleur. She asked when she could come, so I told her now. She’s hesitating outside—pathetic, isn’t it?”
“We still have work left.”
“Your Excellency, meet with the nanny first, then take care of it. Don’t keep a lady waiting.”
Rino nudged him, teasing.
Morgan frowned at Rino’s antics but didn’t feel displeasure. Even though Rino had disrupted his work, he couldn’t help feeling… curious.
‘I wonder what story awaits tonight?’
A small smile tugged at his lips, unnoticed by him.
Morgan warned Rino half-heartedly.
“Tell her to come in. And remember this.”
“What’s there to remember? Fine. I’ll go, and we’ll take it easy today.”
Rino left, hands raised, and just as the door opened, he caught Marisel about to knock.
Their eyes met.
Rino’s smile was gentle, playful, with a hint of curiosity.
Marisel returned a soft, polite smile.
“Hello, Sir Rino. Working late tonight, I see.”
“Thanks to my workaholic master, I hardly know the difference between coming in and leaving. But today, thanks to the nanny, I get to go home properly.”
Marisel stifled a laugh at his mischievous grin and replied.
“Your Excellency keeps him close because you are competent, I suppose.”
Rino leaned close, whispering into her ear.
