Chapter 52
How Can Someone Get Prettier Every Day?
“Milady! Did you just cough?”“Huh? Oh….”
Anette blinked in confusion, staring up at the midday sun high in the sky.
She had overslept—completely.
“Did you sleep well last night? The bed wasn’t uncomfortable, was it?”
With Larisa’s cheerful voice and the chirping of birds outside the window, her mind gradually cleared.
She had woken later than usual even back at the palace, but that was only because worry kept her from sleeping well. Even then, “late” meant just a little past her normal time.
But yesterday, after Carden left, she had briefly looked around the Grand Duke’s castle before dozing off almost immediately. And now—it was noon.
I don’t think I’ve ever slept so soundly before….
It was oddly peaceful, refreshing enough to make her want to laugh.
Despite Carden’s parting words—May you dream good dreams—she hadn’t dreamed a single thing.
It truly felt like her first time recognizing a place as “my home.” But she hadn’t expected to sleep this well.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Anette answered honestly.
“Yes, I slept incredibly well. Not the slightest bit uncomfortable.”
Larisa’s face lit up.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Hmm… maybe a little.”
She had eaten so much the day before that she should’ve still felt full, yet somehow she was hungrier than usual.
Having grown used to eating little—or not at all—Anette rubbed her stomach, bemused by the unfamiliar feeling.
“Then after washing up, I’ll bring your breakfast—no, lunch—right away!”
Energetically rolling up her sleeves, Larisa guided Anette toward the bath.
Since she’d woken late, Anette also hurried her movements.
After washing her face, she changed into a deep navy dress with a large collared design. The material was thicker than what she had worn in the capital—likely made with the Grand Duchy’s colder climate in mind.
And yet, perhaps because it had passed through the Empress Dowager’s hands, it was astonishingly light and comfortable.
“Wow, milady! It looks wonderful on you! May I tie your hair into pigtails to match the dress?”
“Pigtails…?”
“Yes!”
Anette couldn’t quite understand how pigtails would match the dress, and the thought of wearing them—something she hadn’t even tried as a child—flustered her.
But Larisa was so excited, hands already itching to work on her hair, that Anette couldn’t bring herself to refuse.
In the end, she gave in with a resigned smile. Larisa, though brimming with excitement, handled her red hair gently and carefully.
And of course—there was not the slightest sign of discomfort or prejudice over her hair color.
Though she had grown used to this over the past few days, Anette still felt quietly relieved, letting out a subtle sigh as she closed her eyes.
The slow, attentive motions of Larisa’s combing were soothing.
By the time she had enjoyed enough of the pampering, the table was already set for the meal.
Fresh salad, omelet with bacon and mushrooms, soft bread, and a glass of fresh orange juice.
It felt like too much for breakfast—but she quickly emptied every plate, glad she hadn’t voiced the thought.
How can every single thing taste this good?
Not only had her vague fear of food vanished, but it felt as though she had discovered a whole new world.
With meals like this, she thought idly, perhaps she wouldn’t even crave daily cake anymore.
“By the way, milady. His Grace asked if you could join him in the drawing room after your meal.”
“The Grand Duke?”
“Yes. Since he specially requested the chef make chocolate cake, I think he’s planning to have tea time.”
Though Anette hadn’t asked, Larisa shared her thoughts, quickly piecing the situation together.
Anette already appreciated Larisa’s attentive care, but this ability to anticipate her mistress’s needs made her seem even more impressive.
Despite her young age, she was perceptive and capable—enough to make Anette smile softly in pride.
Truthfully, she had been wondering about Carden from the moment she woke.
Did he finish everything last night?
She had hoped maybe he also overslept—but clearly, that had just been her wishful thinking.
If he was already waiting with tea prepared, he must have been up long before her.
Come to think of it…
〈There’s something I wanted to tell you.〉
〈No, I’ll tell you tomorrow instead.〉
He had mentioned wanting to say something the previous night. She had forgotten until now.
The thought that it might be important made her heartbeat quicken.
And knowing he was waiting—Anette could no longer sit idly.
“Let’s go to the drawing room right away.”
She stood up at once, resolving that even though she had overslept today, she would definitely share dinner with him tonight.
At that moment.
Carden was pacing the drawing room, uncharacteristically restless.
His hands were cold with nerves, clenching and unclenching over and over.
“Are you truly that nervous, Your Grace?”
Samuel, watching him with bewilderment, finally asked.
“Of course I am. What if she gets angry?”
“Hmm….”
Anyone who looked at His Grace’s face would forgive him instantly, no matter how angry they were.
Samuel wanted to say it, but he held back. If he did, Carden would surely bristle: Do you think Her Highness is a shallow person who only cares about appearances like you?
And so Samuel swallowed his words.
Still, he felt unfairly maligned. After all, wasn’t it human nature to admire beauty, whether one wanted to or not?
In fact, if it weren’t for the daily blessing of seeing that stunning face, Samuel doubted he—or any of the staff—would have endured Carden’s foul temper this long.
In truth, the Grand Duke’s greatest “employee benefit” was his otherworldly looks.
And today, he was dressed to kill, clearly determined to avoid angering the princess.
Even if she was the princess he revered, once she saw him like this, Samuel was certain she wouldn’t be able to think straight.
“Wow….”
Just then, the princess herself entered the room, earlier than expected.
Carden gaped at her, dumbfounded.
For a moment he stared blankly—then suddenly covered his face with a hand, breathing in and out several times before finally managing to speak.
“Good heavens, Your Highness. You look so beautiful today.”
“……”
Shameless flatterer.
Samuel gave him a look that said exactly that.
But Carden paid no attention.
“How can someone look prettier every single day? And your hair today—it suits you so perfectly….”
Had her hair always looked this lovely in pigtails?
Even the few loose strands that slipped free were so cute it made him cover his mouth in shock.
Samuel, watching him gush and ramble after having worried moments ago about “serious conversation,” could only grimace.
Then suddenly, Carden’s smile faded. His eyes shifted past Anette, landing on the maid standing behind her.
“Your name was… Lala, wasn’t it?”
“Eh? Oh, no, it’s Larisa!”
Startled by the sudden question, the maid stammered. Samuel clicked his tongue inwardly.
He had personally reviewed her file yesterday—there was no way Carden had forgotten her name.
He’s doing that on purpose.
Samuel would’ve bet his month’s bonus on it.
So cautious—guarding against even his fiancée’s personal maid. It left Samuel strangely disheartened.
Still, he pricked up his ears, curious why Carden had addressed her.
Anette, too, widened her eyes, watching closely.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Anything, my lord!”
“Did you do the princess’s hair today?”
“Yes, my lord!”
Larisa answered with the crisp discipline of a soldier.
Carden nodded, satisfied.
“Good. Then you’ll teach me how to do it.”
“Yes, sir! …Wait—what?”
She froze mid-response.
Anette and Samuel, too, could hardly believe their ears.
But Carden acted as though he had said everything necessary and turned away.
Just then, another maid entered to set tea and cake on the table.
Quick to catch on, Samuel ushered the dazed Larisa out.
Anette, watching worriedly, noted that even with chocolate cake right there, Carden seemed more fixated on Larisa.
Seeing this, his eyes turned sulky.
Still, forcing his expression calm, he gestured for her to sit and spoke lightly.
“It seems Your Highness truly likes the new maid.”
At that, Anette looked him directly in the eye.
Her gaze was cool.
“Yes, I like her very much. So please don’t make her uncomfortable. I know very well that Your Grace enjoys mischief—but don’t do it at her expense.”
