Chapter 8. Our Dog Never Lets Go Once It Bites!
— Then I’ll ask again. Can you tutor Lady Olive privately?
The decision was quick. Planus readily accepted Ludwig’s proposal and rushed back into the meeting room with the documents Ludwig had handed him.
That was just the other day.
“Olive, you basically saved the lives of imperial citizens.”
“Whatever. What kind of mage just sits there and saves lives like that?”
“I’m serious. Thanks to you agreeing to tutor him, we were able to identify several key strongholds of the Shadow Sect and wipe them out. Those bastards had kidnapped over a hundred people for trafficking. You saved them all, my amazing little sister.”
Planus grinned and patted Olive’s head fondly.
In truth, he felt a little guilty for accepting the offer without asking Olive first.
But he decided to pay that debt back later. If he showed even a hint of guilt, Olive might change her mind.
As expected, Olive—his sweet younger sister—lit up like a bunny at the news she had saved many lives.
The accomplishment was so significant that she decided to set aside her own discomfort for now.
“Alright, let’s say I saved them. I’ll do what I can, Planus.”
“Thanks, Olive. Just once a week, for ten sessions total.”
Just ten times. Planus patted her shoulder and stood up.
‘Once a week, ten times. That’s basically meeting Prince Ludwig every week until the debutante ball.’
Her brother’s pat on the shoulder felt unusually heavy. Olive tilted her upper body to one side and sat there for a while.
She already had a headache just thinking about how guilty she’d feel every time she met the prince she had rejected as a debutante partner.
* * *
Since Ludwig didn’t receive the emperor’s favor, he had lived in the Garnet Palace from a young age. Olive recalled Planus’s explanation as she entered the imperial palace.
‘They said it was used for confining royal family members… but it doesn’t seem that way at all?’
Hearing such a description, anyone would expect the Garnet Palace to be dark and decrepit.
But seeing it with her own eyes told a different story.
Passing through a path where flowering trees bloomed gracefully, she entered a garden filled with blossoms of every color.
Beyond that stood the perfectly symmetrical Garnet Palace. Each column was intricately carved by master artisans. It felt like stepping into a secret garden.
‘This doesn’t suit someone as flashy as Ludwig. It’s totally my taste, though.’
Following the smooth stone path, Olive arrived at the large entrance. The scent of roses wafted from nearby rose bushes.
Bowing attendants opened the door for her.
“Oh my gosh.”
The interior of the palace was even more to Olive’s taste.
The shiny, light brown floor gleamed under the bright sunlight pouring in through huge glass windows.
Between those windows hung famous paintings—works by artists Olive loved.
‘Ludwig’s taste is surprisingly similar to mine?’
Delighted, Olive took her time looking around the palace before finally entering the room where Ludwig was waiting.
* * *
“I’m sorry I’m late, Prince Ludwig.”
She’d left in plenty of time, but still arrived a bit late to Ludwig’s office.
When Olive bowed her head, Ludwig smiled gently.
“I heard you were admiring the palace. I’m glad you like it here.”
“The paintings were so beautiful… I lost track of time admiring them.”
Olive smiled bashfully, her pale green eyes crinkling slightly.
“….”
Ludwig was briefly speechless. His lips parted slightly.
“Alright, let’s begin then.”
Regardless of Ludwig’s reaction, Olive briskly pulled out the materials from her magic pouch and began explaining the names of the items and basic weaving terminology.
Ludwig listened intently. He absorbed her words like gathering precious grains of wheat.
The lesson was scheduled for one hour. At first, Olive had no idea how she’d get through it. But once it began, time flew by.
‘Ludwig is more thoughtful than I expected.’
At their last meeting—which he had called a date—he had come across as boastful and arrogant. But today, he wore the calm, clever guise of a gifted scholar.
It was strange how someone could appear so completely different.
“My lady.”
As she packed up the materials, Ludwig suddenly spoke.
Olive looked up.
“You explain things very well.”
The unexpected compliment brought a blush to Olive’s cheeks.
“Haha, is that so?”
She laughed awkwardly and blinked. Each flutter of her long lashes made Ludwig’s heart tingle.
“I didn’t know… you were so eloquent.”
His voice was slightly hoarse and broken.
Huh? Olive tilted her head and studied his face.
Ludwig was smiling sadly. She couldn’t read the emotion behind it.
‘Even if I gathered all of Olive’s words from the past ten years before regression, they wouldn’t amount to half of what I heard today.’
That thought crossed Ludwig’s mind.
Had they ever even really talked before? Maybe only once, right before he died.
Had he even wanted to talk to her?
His foolish desire to possess her came rushing back like a belated tide. Ludwig felt himself sinking deep into a sea of regret.
“Your Highness?”
Olive noticed something was wrong as Ludwig’s face quickly stiffened.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?”
She waved a hand in front of his face.
Ludwig’s eyes had lost focus and stared blankly into the distance for quite some time.
Just a moment ago, his gaze had been clear and sharp. The sudden shift made her uneasy.
“Are you sick?”
Eyes darting, Olive stood up and cautiously approached him.
“Do you feel like you’re catching a cold? Do you have a fever?”
Her sincere concern wrapped around Ludwig like soft bunny fur.
His red eyes sorrowfully reflected Olive as she fretted.
Then, those eyes widened slightly and trembled.
“Excuse me, Your Highness.”
With a polite warning, Olive placed her small hand on Ludwig’s forehead.
Such warmth—how fast must that tiny heart be beating to hold so much heat?
Her warmth traveled from his forehead to his cold, slowly beating heart. It ached even more.
In his mind, the pale, trembling image of Olive as empress overlapped with the vibrant, lively girl in front of him now. Why hadn’t he realized how beautiful her flushed cheeks and red lips were?
Why?
Ludwig placed his hand over hers on his forehead.
When his cold, sweat-drenched hand touched hers, her small hand trembled.
She started to pull away, flustered.
But Ludwig gently held her hand tighter and brought it to his cheek.
“Thank you for your concern.”
He unconsciously used the formal speech he once used with Empress Olive.
His red eyes carried the weight of sincerity. Surprised, Olive instinctively drew back like a startled rabbit.
“Haha, did I startle you, my lady?”
Ludwig’s unfamiliar tone returned to normal. He slowly let go of her hand.
Still disoriented, Olive fumbled to grab her magic pouch and pushed her chair back into place.
The backrest of the chair banged loudly against the desk.
“I-I’ll see you next week, Prince Ludwig!”
With a deep bow, Olive rushed out of the office.
The tips of her ears, flushed a pretty pink, lingered in Ludwig’s gaze.
* * *
“You call me out, then just sit there spacing out?”
Lily pouted as she gulped down Goldrot’s special milk tea.
“This is so good!”
She clutched her cheeks in delight and shook her head.
“Ah, sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”
Olive blinked and looked up.
On the round table were two glasses of iced milk tea topped with black tea, along with a fluffy castella roll cake generously topped with whipped cream and strawberries.
The two sat inside the bakery Goldrot’s, enjoying tea time.
Lily giggled while glancing around, sneaking looks at the handsome male employees.
One of them made eye contact and winked at her with a gleaming smile.
Gasp. Lily almost fainted.
“Thanks for bringing me to this amazing place, Olive!”
“I knew you’d love it.”
“The tea is perfect, and the view is even better! Shouldn’t Millian have told us first when he opened a place like this?”
Most of the patrons were women.
Quite a few noble ladies had their eyes fixed not on the pastries, but on the man kneading dough in the kitchen—Goldrot Marquess himself, Millian’s father.
A widower who lost his wife early, the marquess was more popular among the ladies than even young actors.
As Olive stared at him, a young man—who looked like the marquess’s younger self—approached.
It was Millian Goldrot, the young heir.
Despite his noble status, he looked completely at ease working with his hands.
In fact, many ladies praised him as the perfect example of noblesse oblige, though his good looks certainly helped.
“Olive, did you come with Lily today? It’s been a while, Lily.”
