Chapter 6
“Eep!”
At the touch, Olive flinched and stiffened her shoulders.
“Your side bangs were falling,” Ludwig said calmly as he slowly withdrew his hand.
“Oh, my side bangs…”
Only then did Olive release the breath she had been holding and nod slowly with her lips pressed tightly together. Her shoulders, which had risen in tension, gradually relaxed and lowered.
It was the third time she’d spoken face-to-face with Ludwig.
Though Olive still found him unfamiliar, he approached her with a friendliness that made it feel like they’d known each other for a long time.
‘This is seriously uncomfortable.’
She wanted to get up because the situation was so awkward, but this clueless prince didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.
Just as she was scanning the banquet hall, looking for an excuse to escape, the music changed.
She was about to use the dance as a reason to stand when Ludwig’s calm voice stopped her.
“Do you like cake, by any chance?”
Wow. The timing.
The question came out of nowhere, causing her half-risen body to settle back into her chair.
Olive couldn’t answer right away. That brief touch had made her so tense that her body hadn’t quite recovered. Worried that her voice might come out trembling like a goat’s, she just gave a small nod.
“I know a very nice café. Would you like to go together?”
“Why are you… asking me?”
We’ve met three times. One of them was years ago.
“It’s a date proposal.”
“…What?”
What kind of ridiculous nonsense was this?
“Three days from now, at noon. I’ll come to escort you from your residence, my lady.”
It was like a sudden downpour on a clear day — the absurd words came raining down on her.
All that escaped Olive’s gaping mouth was a faint “Ah…”
She didn’t even get the chance to refuse.
The word ‘date’ and the question ‘why’ exploded in her mind, filling it with confusion.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.
Meanwhile, Ludwig calmly rose and gently took Olive’s hand.
Only then did her stunned mind realize he was holding her hand.
As always, Ludwig knelt on one knee. His movement was graceful and understated, like snowflakes drifting to the ground.
“W-what are you doing… Please stand up, Your Highness!”
All eyes in the banquet were now on the debutante and the prince.
Her face bright red, Olive tried to pull her hand away, but Ludwig’s fingers were firmly interlaced with hers.
“Don’t forget our promise.”
He brought her hand to his lips.
His lips pressed deeply against the back of her hand and then withdrew, leaving behind a lingering warmth that burned slightly.
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
He stood, placed one hand behind his back, and gave a slight bow.
Olive should have risen and returned the bow properly, but her tense body refused to move.
“Wait, Your Highness…”
By the time she sprang up like a coiled spring, Ludwig had already turned and was walking away.
Just like that day when they first met at twelve, Ludwig disappeared from her sight.
Ludwig’s casually thrown date proposal wasn’t a joke.
Three days later, a carriage bearing the imperial emblem arrived at the Chartres estate.
Wearing a neatly tailored outfit, Ludwig stepped out of the carriage with elegant strides.
Watching from the second-floor drawing room, Olive paced anxiously.
‘I didn’t think he’d actually come.’
Just in case, she had prepared to go out, but seeing him arrive filled her more with alarm than excitement.
‘Why did he ask me out on a date?’
For three days, she had racked her brain but couldn’t come up with a reason.
The only interaction they’d had was that one meeting in the garden maze at age twelve.
They hadn’t exchanged a single letter since. Yet he acted like they were old acquaintances.
“My lady, Prince Ludwig has arrived in the lobby,” the butler announced.
Still tangled in thought, Olive made her way to the first-floor lobby.
There stood Ludwig, perfectly upright and expressionless—until he spotted her. Then, he smiled gently.
A memory flickered through her mind—of a myth where a goddess breathed life into a marble statue.
“You look absolutely stunning today.”
Half of it was probably just a courtesy, but the rest seemed sincere—
“I’m well aware, my lady.”
—and his response completely ruined the moment.
Yes, you’re amazing. Olive gritted her teeth and accepted his escort into the carriage.
The luxurious cushions inside were perfect for secretly punching out her frustration.
Ludwig, sensing her energy, quietly watched as she clenched her fist against the cushion.
“Haha… The cushions are really soft,” she muttered, awkwardly withdrawing her hand.
‘Why does he keep staring like that?’
His searching gaze was oddly serious for someone his age.
It had been easier when she thought of him as a peer, but now, knowing he was a prince, everything felt different. Even his nonsense carried weight.
“Where are we going, Your Highness?”
As she looked out the window, she asked. Ludwig responded in a calm tone, almost like reading from a prepared script.
“When we’re outside, I’d prefer you call me Ludwig.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Few people recognize my face, but if someone hears a prince is roaming the streets, it’ll cause trouble.”
He added a few more justifications before finally answering her original question.
“We’re going to your favorite pâtisserie. The one run by the Marquess of Goldrot.”
In truth, Ludwig disliked the Goldrot family. In his previous life, they’d opposed him, and the daughter of that house had even set fire to the imperial palace.
But Olive had been close with their family. She loved the pastries from their shop.
Ludwig had designed a flawless date course—take her to the place she liked and feed her favorite tea and cake.
‘But she’s looked uneasy for a while now…’
Why? Ludwig nervously swallowed, lifting his chin slightly. Things were already going off script.
Olive, meanwhile, looked confused.
“Pardon me, but… I’ve never been there, Ludwig.”
The Goldrot family was that of her close friend. The pâtisserie was new, and the name was considered vulgar among nobles. Though she wanted to visit, she hadn’t yet had the chance.
Ludwig rolled his eyes once and corrected himself.
“I must have been nervous and misspoke. Not a place you liked—one I thought you would like.”
Nervous? With that calm face?
Olive eyed him suspiciously.
No matter how she looked, he seemed perfectly composed.
Also, the way he said she would like a place she didn’t know was unsettling.
‘Why is her expression getting worse?’
As her lips drooped again, Ludwig’s previously relaxed expression began to harden. Neither spoke again until they reached their destination.
[Goldrot Bakery]
Standing before the large sign above the mansion’s front door, Olive read it silently.
It felt like the Marquess of Goldrot was mocking his own name with such a sign.
The first floor had been converted into a large pâtisserie. Round brown tables and chairs sat atop gray marble floors. Landscape paintings with golden frames lined the white walls.
Freshly baked bread and cakes sat neatly on wooden trays. In the open kitchen, a middle-aged man baked bread while a woman selected tea leaves.
‘They say it’s awful, but it’s unexpectedly crowded…’
Nobles who bad-mouthed the place in public were now quietly sipping tea here. Olive felt a strange mix of emotions.
“This way, please.”
Ludwig and Olive were led by a black-haired butler to a scenic terrace table.
Ludwig pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit. Just like he’d read in books—confident, masculine, and dignified.
‘Why does he seem so arrogant? Is it the royal blood?’
The pressure he exuded made Olive uncomfortable. Her mouth drooped again.
‘I feel like I should bow to the floor just for him pulling out my chair.’
But the discomfort didn’t last long. It took less than five minutes for her frown to turn into a smile.
‘Delicious!’
One bite of the milk tea and cake, and her cheeks lifted on their own.
She had to admit—Ludwig had good taste.
“Is it to your liking?”
Her expression already said it all, but Ludwig politely asked anyway.
She shyly nodded and gave a thumbs-up.
His stiff expression softened.
Just as the atmosphere at the table was starting to warm—
“Olive… My lady?”
A familiar voice called out.
A rather handsome blonde young man recognized Olive.
Holding a tray, he appeared to be an employee—but the way he spoke to Olive was overly familiar. Ludwig’s eyebrow twitched sharply.
“Oh my, Million? Is that you?”
Olive beamed with delight.
‘Million? She’s calling him by name?’
Ha. Ludwig snorted.
Million Goldrot. Olive’s close friend from the academy.
