Misfortune 46

Chapter 46

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Roan understood exactly what the Admiral was saying.

The ailing Emperor had only one pressing and critical issue.

Who would be the next Emperor.

Ordinarily, the throne would have passed to the First Prince. But Count Eperne's incident had discredited the First Prince.

If he could rebuild it, that would be fine, but the variable was that no one knew how much time the Emperor had left.

And impatience always clouds judgment.

But neither of them would say anything about it, for they were far removed from court politics.

But the Admiral was concerned for the Emperor as a friend, and Roan understood that concern.

“If the Princess had been born a man, His Majesty would have had less to worry about. Don’t you think so?”

The Admiral asked, his lips twitching as he inhaled smoke. It was a joke, but he half meant it.

The Princess didn't just look like the emperor; she also had the monarch's determination and coolness.

She even had the legitimacy of being the only Princess to survive, which shouldn't have been a problem for the Emperor.

"Even now, I am often surprised when I see the Princess."

"When I look at His Majesty’s youthful portrait, the two certainly look alike."

"Her temperament is also extraordinary, and it makes me feel like I'm seeing His Majesty again."

The old man's voice dripped with wistfulness as he recalled the past glories of the parents through their children.

The relationship between the Admiral and the Emperor was more than just a military one: as children, they were rivals learning from the same master, and as adults, they were the only friends they could confide in.

It was also likely due to the Admiral's distance from court politics. The Emperor both disliked and favored the Admiral's distance from the capital.

Perhaps that was why the Admiral spent his life at sea. To be the only friend the Emperor could confide in.

Perhaps that was why he was still fulfilling that loyalty now, acting as the Emperor's confidant in his sick bed.

But they couldn’t stay like this forever. If the Admiral did not return to Blois, the Emperor's health would be mentioned, even if he was well enough for now.

It was no secret that the old Emperor's strength was not what it once was, but there was no point in revealing his specific ailments.

"I do miss the sea."

The Admiral said thoughtfully. The quick-witted lieutenant understood the implication.

"I'll be ready whenever you are."

The Admiral nodded approvingly and put the pipe back in his mouth. A puff of white smoke soon drifted into the air.

****

"Ah!

A stinging pain made Delnia drop the pen she was holding. There was a small trickle of blood on her finger. The cracked flesh had finally burst.

She pressed her finger firmly against her handkerchief to staunch the bleeding. Luckily, the cut wasn't big, and the bleeding stopped quickly.

Her hands had been rough from all the cleaning and helping Jack in the garden. Gone was the soft, smooth skin, without a single scar.

But there was another reason why they hadn't gotten any better, even now that they were less likely to get wet.

Delnia rubbed her clammy hands together and glanced down. A stack of transcribed papers lay beside her.

Marcel's assignment was already showing its end. He'd told her she'd have it done by fall, but she had almost finished it and it was still summer.

It was safe to say it was all the result of countless sleepless nights. She was desperately trying to hold on to the spirit of going back to the past whenever she could.

Sometimes she would daydream, and when she was too focused, she lost track of time, as she was now.

Part of it was that her sense of time had dulled since becoming Roan's personal servant and not having to wake up at dawn on a regular basis.

Delnia glanced around the windowless room. Judging by the light streaming in through the cracks and the bustle of activity outside, it had been quite a while since the sun had risen.

She lifted the lid of the wooden crate she'd been using as a desk and organized the papers she'd been transcribing.

She glanced briefly at the coins in the far corner, then closed the lid and left the room.

"Looks like she just now woke up. So lazy."

"She’s living high as the Colonel’s personal servant.”

The bustling maids spotted Delnia and glared at her.

But she turned away, unperturbed by their glares, too used to their insubstantial hatred to care.

They hated a slave who stole from the maids and yet had the audacity to walk around with the Colonel's undivided attention.

Neither of these things applied to the real Delnia, so the hatred was not hers to share.

With that, Delnia made her way to the kitchen.

The kitchen was deserted except for a young maid who was chopping up ingredients. Apparently, the meal was long past.

Quickly dismissing it, Delnia was about to turn away when an unfamiliar voice called out from behind her.

"Are you here?"

Startled, Delnia turned around, her eyes as wide as rabbits.

She wasn't even sure if the question was directed at her. No one had ever spoken to her privately since she'd been accused of being a thief.

Then the maid who had been slicing mushrooms broke eye contact with Delnia and muttered dryly.

"It's past lunchtime and there's nothing to eat, and the stew is gone."

"Oh, I'll just have some bread."

Delnia replied quickly, not wanting to cause any trouble.

There would be no shortage of bread, as they baked a generous supply each morning at dawn. Though it would be a bit of a pain to pass around.

But the maid pouted her lips and grumbled.

"How you’re supposed to eat that hard stuff?"

Then she headed towards the fire, holding a large pan filled with the mushrooms she had been chopping.

“Even if you’re hungry, just wait a little bit. Now all that’s left is to grill it.”

"What?"

The maid didn't answer Delnia's confused question, but she heated the pan and sautéed the colorful vegetables. Then she cracked an egg into a bowl and poured it over the pan.

"You haven't been eating properly lately."

The maid muttered to herself as she stood before the fire, still not looking back at Delnia.

Staring at the back of her head, Delnia realized that she was cooking for her.

She realized that the maid wasn't alone in the kitchen to prepare the next meal, but rather to wait for her.

While Delnia was unsure of how to respond to this sudden favor, the maid placed the food in a bowl while Delnia stood silent. It was a steaming omelet.

Delnia reflexively reached for the bowl, but the maid ignored her hand and set it down on the countertop.

"You want to go outside in this heat? Forget it, you can eat in here, there's an empty box over there you can sit on."

Delnia hesitantly did as she was told and sat down, while the maid scrambled for utensils.

"Where's the fork?"

Delnia glanced down at the delicious smelling golden brown omelette, and then looked up again, her trembling lips finally parting.

"Hey, thank you."

"Never mind, I'm only doing it because I care."

The maid returned her bluntly, bringing her a fork and a cup of milk.

Delnia stared at the maid as she approached her unassumingly.

She wasn't a stranger to her; she'd been taking care of her meals since she first arrived at the manor.

It must have been annoying to have her arrive at mealtime every day, but she'd always served her without a hint of bluntness, even after she'd been accused.

"You don't seem to be eating any better these days than when you first came. You'll faint in this heat."

The maid glanced at Delnia's gown, which was now looser than before. Delnia smiled sheepishly and took the fork the maid handed her.

"Thank you................."

"I'm Margaret."

Delnia stammered, embarrassed that she didn't know the name of the person who had taken care of her, but the perceptive maid spoke up first.

"And you?"

"I'm..................."

Delnia was about to give the maid her name.

"Where the hell is this slave girl?"

An irritated voice echoed down the hall.

Startled, they both turned toward the doorway, where a figure entered the kitchen with impatient steps.

***

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