Why are both Aida and Renato so ridiculously attractive?
A highly competent maid swiftly placed a napkin in my hand just as I was about to wipe a bit of cream from the corner of my mouth with my fingers.
Good save.
I made sure to dab my lips as elegantly as possible.
(Not that a proper lady would get cream on her mouth in the first place.)
“I have caused you a great deal of trouble,” Renato admitted. “Though this must remain confidential, I have spoken to Lady Aida and learned the reason behind your study abroad. I deeply regret that I may have tarnished your reputation.”
If you really feel that bad, then introduce me to some good marriage candidates.
I clapped both hands over my mouth immediately—but thankfully, this time, I hadn’t said it aloud.
Or so I thought.
Renato glanced away, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the floor.
“…Some promising candidates, you say? I’ll consider it.”
“I said that out loud again, didn’t I?!”
The maids standing by the wall visibly wilted.
“Lady Annovazzi.”
“Prince Renato, I imagine my name must be quite a mouthful. Please, just call me Maria.”
“…Thank you, then—Lady Maria.”
Renato straightened his posture and met my gaze directly.
His composed expression, noble yet firm, was far more dignified than the useless princes in my own country.
Honestly… he was really handsome.
“As Aida may have told you,” he began, “I had always avoided her. I ensured she never entered my sight, refused to look at any portraits of her, and, since childhood, have barely exchanged a word with her. As a result, I never knew what she looked like. That’s why, when I saw you standing beside her, I assumed you were her.”
“I heard that the three of you—yourself, Lady Aida, and Prince Placido—used to play together as children.”
“Yes. Up until we were about eight years old, whenever she visited the palace, we played in the garden together. That’s why I only remembered her by the color of her hair. That golden shade is quite rare, after all.”
I… wasn’t sure my hair was quite as well-maintained or as beautiful as Aida’s, but since he was technically complimenting me, I pretended to be flattered and allowed a shy reaction to slip through.
Renato exhaled quietly, staring down at his hands, which were clasped atop his knees.
A maid swiftly replaced his untouched cold tea with a fresh, steaming cup.
“…Prince Renato, you are an incredibly capable man. So why did you do something so reckless? Surely, you knew how disastrous the situation would become.”
My voice was clear—he had to have heard me.
But Renato said nothing.
He simply kept his gaze lowered, his face pale, shadows of exhaustion evident under his eyes.
For a prince, he looked remarkably unwell.
As I took a sip of my fresh tea, my gaze flickered toward the maids.
They still looked deeply disappointed.
Clearly, it wasn’t just me they were exasperated with—Renato was the true source of their frustration.
0 Comments