Chapter 91
Your Highness, Please Wake Up
For a few seconds, Anette’s pupils froze in place, then suddenly trembled.
When did my body return to normal?
She had no time to even guess at the reason.
Blinking rapidly in confusion, Anette quickly realized this was no time to be dazed.
She tried to sit up in a rush—only to stop dead at the strange sensation.
Someone’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist.
And the only other person in this room was him.
Her entire body stiff with tension, Anette slowly rolled her eyes to the side.
“……!”
As expected, the one holding her was Cardin.
He lay facing her, deep asleep, the loose robe slipping down to expose his Adam’s apple and collarbone.
It was a rather dangerous sight—but compared to her, his situation was better.
Judging by the soft sensation she felt at her waist, and the memory of the towel that had fallen with a flop to the floor back in the dressing room last night…
Oh no, what do I do!
She didn’t even need to lift the blanket to know—he was naked.
It looked like she had crept into his bedroom to seduce him, and the thought made her vision spin black. On top of that, the solid feel of his bare hand on her skin made the tips of her ears burn hot.
Just then, Cardin stirred and tightened the arm around her waist.
Their bodies pressed together without a gap, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin at her neck.
A shiver like all her hairs standing on end jolted through her, and Anette trembled, unable to endure it. She raised her hand, cheeks blazing, ready to push him away.
At that very moment, Cardin’s firmly shut eyelids slowly lifted.
Sleep-heavy blue eyes, after so long, met her face again.
He blinked, stunned for an instant at the sight of a woman with flowing red hair and fine, delicate features.
Anette’s heart pounded wildly at the looming commotion, her pupils shaking. But then those hazy eyes softened, curving gently.
“…Princess.”
Instead of being shocked, Cardin spoke sweetly, unalarmed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And then he leaned closer to her.
“Uhk!”
Anette sucked in a sharp breath without meaning to.
Cardin had buried his face against her neck and was rubbing against her like a spoiled child.
She squirmed from the ticklish sensation—then froze at the unfamiliar touch.
His soft eyelids and sharp nose brushed across her skin, each line drawn vividly.
It was the first time she had ever felt someone’s face with her body instead of her hands.
And then, at last, his hot, pliant lips pressed against her neck.
She slapped one hand over her mouth to hold back the moan that threatened to escape, while her other hand pushed at his shoulder.
But rather than stop, the resistance seemed to spark something in him—his arm tightened, pulling her in even closer.
Her heart threatened to explode. Barely enduring it, Anette finally gasped out:
“Your Highness, please wake up.”
At that instant, Cardin’s movements froze.
The pressure pinning her down eased.
Anette gently pushed his shoulder again.
This time, unlike before, he slid back without resistance, slowly raising his upper body.
His eyelids trembled, then lifted heavily—his gaze meeting Anette lying beneath him.
A few seconds of silence dragged on, feeling like minutes.
Then Cardin’s eyes went comically wide in shock.
With a crash, he toppled to the floor, staring up at Anette on the bed with a stunned expression.
“It—it’s not a dream…?” he stammered.
He was actually flustered.
Anette quickly snatched the blanket slipping off the bed, covering herself, and smiled awkwardly.
“Your Highness. I’d love to explain everything right now, but as you can see… I’ll have to postpone for a moment.”
Her fingers were flushed red as she clutched the blanket to cover her bare body. She swallowed, then added:
“So for now… would you please call Larisa for me?”
“Then… you’re really my lady, right?”
“Yes, Larisa. You must’ve been worried all night, weren’t you?”
“Of course not, milady!”
But her pale face clearly betrayed that she had spent the whole night anxious, fretting about what hardships her mistress might suffer as a cat.
Her eyes were shining, on the verge of tears, and seeing that earnest look, Anette suppressed a laugh.
“Oh, what should I do! It’s really you, my lady!”
She had half-feared Larisa might be bewildered or awkward with her restored self. But instead, Larisa was only overjoyed. It was such a relief.
Anette tucked away her gratitude, vowing to repay Larisa greatly one day.
“But milady, how did you change back? Yesterday you were definitely a ca—!”
Larisa looked completely baffled.
Before she could finish the word “cat,” Anette quickly pressed a finger to her lips.
Cardin might have guessed the connection between her and the cat he met yesterday, but… she didn’t want to confirm it yet.
Yes, she had discovered Cardin’s true feelings thanks to becoming a cat. But she also suffered humiliation she never wanted to remember—like when Cardin had patted her backside.
Just recalling it made her shiver involuntarily.
Larisa obediently closed her mouth at Anette’s signal, swallowing hard before cautiously speaking again.
“Um, milady, did you… pick out that dress yourself?”
“Hm? Oh… yes. I just grabbed something simple.”
Anette smoothed the plain lavender dress and gave an awkward smile.
Before Larisa came, she had rushed to the duchess’s room, taken a shower first thing—because being called “grubby” by Cardin last night had stung. She scrubbed herself squeaky clean as if to deny his words, then hastily dressed in something she could put on by herself.
“…Does it look bad?”
Maybe dresses really didn’t suit her.
Her voice lacked confidence.
But Larisa shook her head fervently.
“Not at all! Milady, whether as a child, or now, or even as a ca—! A-anyway, you’re always lovely. You look beautiful now too!”
Anette’s cheeks turned faintly pink.
She still wasn’t used to dresses, nor to such compliments.
Scratching her cheek bashfully, she listened as Larisa clenched her fist with determination.
“But! This is the first time you’ll be appearing at the ducal castle like this. And before the master too!”
So wouldn’t it be better if you dressed up a little more?
Larisa’s gentle suggestion finally persuaded her. Anette slipped out of the lavender dress, left in only a slip.
It felt pointless, after having hurriedly dressed earlier in case Larisa saw her—but oddly, she didn’t feel as embarrassed changing again.
Perhaps because she had already endured the far greater embarrassment of facing Cardin completely naked.
She let out a long sigh, recalling that dizzying moment.
〈La… Larisa? Who’s that…〉
She remembered Cardin’s flustered reaction when she’d asked him to summon Larisa.
How could he not know? Larisa had attended to her every day since arriving at the ducal castle—he even learned how to tie hair from her!
Anette had been more upset on Larisa’s behalf than her own, answering firmly:
〈Who else? She’s my personal maid.〉
〈Ah… ah! Yes, of course! I-I’ll call her right away!〉
〈Wait, Your Highness! You’re not going out like that, are you?〉
Blushing crimson, Cardin stammered nonsense as he backed away.
He had been so rattled he didn’t even realize what she meant—until he looked down at himself.
Bare legs, only a thin robe clinging to him… practically naked.
His face went ashen, and he bolted to the dressing room.
Watching his retreating back, Anette, who had truly been stark naked, flushed with mortification.
Still clutching the blanket, she hurried off to the duchess’s adjoining chambers.
They weren’t married yet, but it would be her room soon enough. Surely using it a little early wasn’t such a crime.
She told herself it was an emergency and shamelessly claimed the room. After bathing and dressing, she had just reunited with Larisa.
Fortunately, Cardin had realized she’d moved to the adjoining room and brought Larisa there.
“All done, milady! How do you like it?”
Now Larisa, after choosing a new silk dress and accessories, had styled her hair to match—her face bright with anticipation as she asked.
Pulled from her thoughts, Anette lifted her head toward the mirror.
“…Ah.”
Maybe it was because it had been so long.
Even though it was her own face, the reflection felt strangely unfamiliar.
She lifted her hand hesitantly to touch her cheek—then suddenly remembered the walls of the fifth-floor room last night, covered in countless portraits of herself.
