Chapter 11
The next morning, Felice grimaced at the sunlight and let out a short sigh as soon as she woke up. She pulled the blanket over her face but quickly grew frustrated with the stuffy air and yanked it off.
“Teaching… bedroom lessons…”
Rubbing her forehead, Felice sat up in bed, her eyes opening slowly.
A beam of light slipped through the worn green curtains and grazed the corner of her right eye.
“Bedroom lessons?!”
She buried her head in her hands and leaned back heavily. The old bed, whose purchase she couldn’t even remember, creaked loudly in protest.
Though she had tried to appear composed in front of the prince, inside she was flustered. Even with the noblewomen’s private lessons, she had never taught anything so intimate as bedroom matters. After all, those ladies had far more experience than Felice ever had.
“I haven’t even seen a man’s body, let alone touched one—what was I thinking agreeing to this?”
Felice turned onto her side, frowning. But then, with a deflated voice, she whispered,
“But it’s a job worth ten thousand francs.”
She sighed deeply and reached toward the sunlight streaming onto her blanket.
“This might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance…”
She rubbed the blanket.
Though it had once been white, it was so worn from years of use that no amount of washing could restore its brightness. Gripping the faded ivory blanket tightly as if it were a lifeline, Felice scowled.
“I can finally pay off all my debts. And…”
Just then,
Bang!
“Damn Kelton Barony… Felice! Get out here now!”
The shout from outside made Felice shut her eyes tightly.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Not coming out immediately? What time is it, and you’re still sleeping?!”
Felice got out of bed.
* * *
Under the pavilion in the southern garden—said to be the place Queen Nelleys loved most as a princess—Madam Depende and Claude were seated at a table.
Claude leaned back lazily in his chair, staring at the yellow tulips arranged on the pristine white marble table. He smiled softly at the flowers before shifting his gaze to Madam Depende across from him.
She was knitting slowly, moving her needles deliberately as if waiting for Claude to speak.
“Seeing the tulips reminds me of a few months ago, when Baron Cohn became the laughingstock of society.”
“Baron Cohn?”
Madam Depende raised an eyebrow and nodded as she slid the needle through her knitting loops.
“You mean the Baron who was slapped by his tutor?”
“Yes.”
“Even though she worked as a tutor, she was once a noblewoman herself, so she likely found the Baron’s clumsy advances disrespectful.”
“Yes… I suppose so.”
“Why? Are you going to treat your tutor the same way and send her away?”
Madam Depende glanced briefly at Claude. Claude, holding his teacup, let out a small chuckle.
“No.”
“Then how do you plan to send her away?”
“Haha. You seem quite certain that I will send her away.”
Claude laughed as he took a sip of his tea.
Madam Depende frowned at her nephew’s demeanor, then rang the bell on the table. A maid waiting nearby approached, took Madam Depende’s knitting, and withdrew.
“You seem to have already forgotten the letter you sent less than a day ago, asking for a meeting. Weren’t you planning to ask me to persuade Her Majesty for you?”
“If I were to ask, would you persuade her? To ask that absurd relationship coach to leave?”
“…How I wish things had worked out with the girl I introduced to you back then.”
Madam Depende clicked her tongue.
At that moment, Claude frowned as he recalled his last matchmaking attempt.
“She wasn’t my type.”
“Is there such a thing as ‘type’?”
Claude moved his lips but eventually fell silent.
The woman from the blind date had been the most arrogant person he’d met recently, but there was no need to speak ill of someone from a past relationship. It was already over.
“Anyway, if I ask you, will you help?”
“…Do you think so? If only you had been announced as a prince earlier, none of this would have happened.”
“Aunt.”
“Why are you calling me that?”
Madam Depende answered curtly and turned her gaze toward the garden.
“There’s no need to announce my identity and marriage at the same time, is there?”
Claude’s remark was met with a sigh from Madam Depende.
“Claude, you’ve been living in hiding for twenty years. There are countless people eager to link scandals to Her Majesty. Do you really think announcing your prince status without your maternal family’s backing makes sense? Without support, you’ll lose the battle for public opinion. The current Prime Minister, Robert, is wide awake and ready to entangle Viscount Barrot with Her Majesty—how do you think your existence looks in such a climate?”
“Sigh… Then can’t I just not announce my princely status? The title means little to me. I’ve never once complained to Her Majesty—so why now…”
At those words, Madam Depende shook her head.
“You just don’t understand a mother’s heart.”
It was a familiar response Claude had heard for years. Though he couldn’t comprehend his aunt’s words, since the only reply he ever got was “a mother’s heart,” he had nothing left to say.
“I thought you’d say that.”
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