Chapter 26
Damian Carter was, quite literally, dumbfounded.
“…Who would’ve thought the inn would make meals at night if requested?”
Princess Lorea wiped her embarrassed cheek as she stared down at the steaming stew.
This was the inn’s first-floor dining area.
When Damian handed some gold coins to the dozing innkeeper at the counter and requested a simple meal, within twenty minutes, a table full of warm bread, creamy stew, several pieces of meat, and salad appeared.
Lorea just blinked her large eyes, marveling at all of it.
Having lived in comfort at the palace, it was no wonder she found everything strange—yet still amusing.
‘She wandered outside just because she was hungry?’
Honestly, Damian didn’t completely believe her explanation, but she truly seemed too distracted to be doing anything suspicious.
‘She really is just a child.’
Come to think of it, she was thirteen. If his younger sister were alive, she would be the same age.
Damian felt a strange mix of emotions.
“Your Highness, this may seem modest for you, but in this area, it’s a rare delicacy.”
“I know.”
When Damian seemed about to start lecturing, Lorea widened her already-large eyes and interrupted him.
Though he had spent only a day with her, his perception of her had shifted dramatically.
Before, he had considered her a half-baked princess, clueless about the world outside the palace, spoiled and foolish.
Now, he wasn’t sure whether to call her cunning or just plain… erratic.
‘…A little sparrow?’
She chirped and protested constantly, arguing just to win, yet her pride was so strong it couldn’t be shaken.
She wasn’t malicious, but if Damian raised his voice, she would quickly shrink and look away.
“Please, start eating.”
The meal before them was admittedly meager for nobility. Damian was prepared to scold or even punish her if she complained.
But Lorea, without hesitation, took a bite of the stew and her eyes sparkled.
“Wow!”
Then she tore some bread, dipped it in the stew, and exclaimed again.
“This is really delicious.”
“…It suits your taste?”
“It’s a new flavor for me. I never knew food could taste like this!”
Her round, white cheeks chewed enthusiastically.
Damian stared, stunned, at Lorea’s rosy, plump face.
‘Wait… am I actually thinking she’s cute?’
He shook his head, embarrassed at his own thoughts, and bent over his plate.
Then, without warning, Lorea began moving pieces of meat from her plate to his.
“What’s this?”
“I wanted you to eat more. I hope you grow quickly.”
“…Excuse me?”
Damian nearly forgot himself, wanting to ask how the princess could lecture him, who was mostly bone, on such things.
But Lorea, shamelessly calm, continued:
“I want you to become a Swordmaster soon. It’s cool, isn’t it?”
She finished moving the last piece of meat and smiled mischievously, her cheeks pink like a summer peach.
“Fine… eat as much as you want, Your Highness. You said you were hungry; I’ve never heard royal stomach growls before.”
Lorea sighed, unimpressed by Damian’s teasing, and said:
“I eat little. I was just starting to feel full.”
Damian glanced at her plate. She had only eaten a small piece of bread and a few spoonfuls of stew.
“Is she human? How can she survive eating so little?”
“Her delicate and fragile appearance was what the Emperor… I mean, Abamama liked.”
Lorea brushed it off as a matter of nurturing instincts.
Damian, however, scowled fiercely.
“Whatever the case. Eat more, Archduke. Consider my effort and grow quickly. Stronger is better.”
“…I must ask, Your Highness, have you forgotten the relationship between the Archduke and the royal family?”
“I haven’t forgotten, which is why I’m saying this.”
“Your reasoning doesn’t quite add up.”
Unlike Carlos, who ignored everything unrelated to interests, Damian was persistent. If something didn’t make sense, he had to confront it.
“What exactly are you thinking?”
“Do I need to consider the thought behind giving you meat?”
“You were once a thorn in the side of the Archduke’s family, Your Highness. Why now encourage him?”
At first, Damian wondered if Lorea’s position at the court had been weakened.
But judging from the First Prince’s attitude in the forest earlier, no secret incidents seemed to have occurred.
He also didn’t know why the princess had left the palace and sought refuge at the Archduke’s residence.
Lorea blinked her large eyes, apparently surprised at being questioned directly.
Her red pupils rolled slightly—not to avoid eye contact but lost in thought.
“…Because I realized it was wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“I realized everything I believed was false. I saw my own foolishness. So now I correct it, even if the Archduke finds me disagreeable.”
“Good to know. I do find it disagreeable.”
“I know I irritate you too.”
“That is also true.”
Even with Damian’s relentless, piercing words, Lorea remained calm.
She popped the last piece of bread into her mouth and shrugged.
Her expression softened quickly as she chewed.
‘What… the hell?’
Damian realized for the first time that the supposedly vicious royal princess could show such gentle, almost silly expressions.
“…Anyway. It feels strange to speak directly to the person involved. Let’s eat. I’m already full, and the Archduke barely touched his meal.”
Lorea redirected the conversation, offering him the salad plate.
“Don’t just eat the meat; have some vegetables too.”
“Who’s telling whom now?”
“Enjoy it. Not that I’m paying.”
Damian’s reluctant response was cut short as Lorea neatly placed her utensils.
His gaze, which had lingered at her in astonishment, reluctantly returned to his own plate.
