Chapter 07
Thinking about how the child had spent more than three months alone in this large, dark room made her chest feel tight.
“Young Master… so you were here.”
Maricel found Fleur curled up behind the headboard of the bed.
Fleur did not move when he saw her. He looked like a mannequin.
His clothes were dirty and smelled. His hair was greasy and tangled, and his unfocused eyes were empty.
Her heart ached. What words could she possibly say to this child?
Maricel quietly sat down a few steps away from him.
A long time passed before she spoke.
“Your Highness, from now on, I will take care of you until the day you say you don’t want me anymore. And every day, I will stay by your side like this. Starting today, I will sleep here too. Ah! But don’t worry. I won’t share your bed. I’ll bring the mattress from my room and place it beside yours.”
She deliberately did not say she would care for him like a mother.
She believed it would be better for Fleur to build a new relationship, without connecting her in any way to the painful memories of his past.
She also did not know what kind of presence his mother held in his heart.
She forced nothing.
So that he would not be afraid.
So that he would not feel uncomfortable.
So that he would not feel lonely.
She adjusted her entire daily routine around Fleur.
One day. Two days. There was no clear change.
Three days. Four days. The days continued to pass.
One week.
Finally, a change came.
“Fleur is eating with his nanny?”
Morgan asked again, as if he could not believe Porle’s report.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Since when?”
“Since this morning.”
“How long has the nanny been here?”
“Today is the eighth day.”
Morgan stopped what he was doing.
He had hired Maricel with doubt in his heart.
When he first received the report that she had entered Fleur’s room on the first day and slept there with him, he had thought she was truly a strange woman.
Every action reported to him was different from the previous nannies.
The child who had feared people was eating with someone else…
Morgan had long wished for such a thing, yet he could hardly believe it.
Especially since Fleur had been terrified of adult men, Morgan had not seen him in a long time.
Even Porle, who was old and carried not a single trace of threat, could not approach him easily.
Only women with small, gentle appearances could get somewhat close.
After learning that, Morgan had deliberately chosen soft-looking nannies.
In the end, it had all been useless.
The reason he hired Maricel was simple.
She was nothing like the nannies he had seen before.
The way she acted toward a commoner child in the marketplace, and the way she feared him yet did not truly fear him—that had left an impression.
And then, that same woman had appeared among the nanny applicants.
He became curious.
With that kind of boldness, perhaps she would truly take responsibility for Fleur.
So he called in a woman with no experience for an interview.
As Morgan’s thoughts reached that point, he remembered the interview.
She was the only person who had ever fallen asleep in the Grand Duke’s reception room.
And she had listed him as the second reason she should become a nanny.
Even now, thinking about it made him let out a dry laugh.
“Because I have no interest in Your Grace. So you will have no trouble from me.”
Ha.
The more he thought about it, the stranger his mood became.
For some reason, those words remained in his mind, scratching at his nerves.
Morgan frowned without realizing it.
“Your Grace, is there a problem with the report…?”
“No. Continue.”
“Young Master, please try this as well.”
Maricel cut the mushroom into small pieces and placed it on Fleur’s plate.
“How is it?”
Fleur chewed the mushroom slowly, then frowned.
“If you can’t eat it, you may spit it out. Here.”
Maricel quickly held out a napkin.
Fleur hesitated, unsure whether to spit it out or not.
Maricel smiled gently and demonstrated first, pretending to spit into the napkin.
Only then did Fleur cautiously spit it out.
“Was it the texture you didn’t like? Or the taste? Number one? Number two?”
When she asked, Fleur pointed to number two.
Maricel had asked the reason to gather information for improving his picky eating later.
For now, his sense of safety was far more important than correcting his eating habits. But collecting information was still necessary.
For an entire week, she slept in the same room as him and constantly talked about ordinary daily things.
A foal had been born.
A hen had laid an egg.
She had dreamed of something strange last night.
A white rabbit had come to the garden.
A black cat had climbed a tree.
Dandelions had bloomed.
When the yellow dandelions turned white, they would go outside and blow them together.
Harmless, simple daily stories.
For someone who is hurt, imagining and rebuilding daily life is extremely important.
So whether Fleur responded or not, Maricel kept pouring gentle daily moments into the air.
Like clear flowing water washing away muddy water.
One day, he met her eyes.
Another day, he allowed her to come closer.
“Young Master, shall we go see the flowers in the garden tomorrow? I saw round, fluffy white dandelions. I would like to blow them together with you. What do you think?”
Maricel continued speaking as she ate her vegetables.
“When you blow—like this, whoo—the petals fly one by one in the wind. It’s so beautiful. You really should see it… Aren’t you curious?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
Fleur had never walked in the garden.
To him, the garden was something to look at from inside the room.
He had never had time to feel the changing seasons. Just keeping up with heir lessons had been exhausting.
If he fell behind even a little, cold treatment from his parents followed.
Fleur wanted to become someone useful—someone his parents would acknowledge.
Heir lessons were the only path to recognition.
So he devoted himself only to studying.
One day, while riding in a carriage, he saw a child his age walking hand in hand with his parents.
The child wore worn-out clothes, yet his face was full of happiness.
Fleur felt envy.
He wanted to be happy too.
He wanted to walk hand in hand with his parents and laugh.
And now, Maricel was asking him to blow flowers.
He did not even know what a dandelion was.
Flowers that fly in the wind? He had never imagined such a thing.
He remembered the child from the carriage.
If he blew dandelions with Maricel, would he feel happy?
What if he blew them badly? Would she dislike him? Would she scold him?
No.
Until now, Maricel had never forced him to do anything he disliked.
Even when he made mistakes, she would say it was fine, that even adults make mistakes—so it was more than fine for a child.
Strange but comforting words.
Fleur wanted to see the dandelions with Maricel.
If it was with her, it might be alright.
So he nodded.
“Wow~ Young Master, you made a great choice! Then our adventure will begin tomorrow afternoon in the spring garden!”
The vast garden of the Grand Duke’s estate was designed with themes for spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
The sections were not sharply divided, but the spring garden was filled with flowers and trees that bloomed in that season.
It was said that the former Duchess had loved designing gardens, and that was how it was created.
On a peaceful afternoon, under warm sunlight, Maricel held Fleur’s hand tightly as they walked.
Fleur wondered how Maricel always seemed to know when he wanted to hold hands.
He even wondered if she had some special ability to read people’s hearts.
Just walking hand in hand with her felt wonderful.
Whenever they passed a flower or plant she knew, Maricel stopped and explained.
“This is this kind of flower. That is that kind of tree.”
She even gently caught a ladybug from between the leaves and placed it on her palm for him to see closely.
Everything felt new and amazing to Fleur.
“Ah! Young Master! Here it is. White dandelions.”
Maricel spotted them and ran over quickly, sitting down on the grass. She waved urgently for Fleur to come.
“Isn’t it pretty?”
When Fleur saw Maricel smiling brightly at him, he found himself smiling too.
It was fascinating.
Just as she said, small white feathers gathered together in a round ball.
“You know, this yellow dandelion is not just one flower—it’s actually about 200 tiny flowers gathered together~ And this one here, that looks like a seed? It’s actually the fruit of the dandelion. Isn’t that amazing?”
Maricel explained excitedly.
Fleur crouched down beside her and listened carefully, observing the dandelion.
Two hundred flowers forming one.
Such a tiny thing being a fruit.
The small plant amazed him.
And somehow—
Maricel, who knew all of this, seemed amazing too.
