The Author's Will

67 | White Aster

The brown-haired maiden wanted to squeal with excitement. Despite having kept her feelings for a certain silver-haired marquess a secret for a number of years now, it wouldn't have surprised her at all if Irene figured it out. Unfortunately, she was a little bit obvious about it at times.

But what's important is Irene has found someone she likes! A sense of happiness lifted all of Isabella's spirits as she wondered what it was about Prince Daniel that she liked. He was handsome, of course. But not as much as Rayvis, in her opinion.

Either way, Isabella was sure to help her out. "I'll also support you in every way I can!"

After the two girls seemingly affirmed their friendship, Irene stepped out of her bath and was brought some fresh clothes from her maids. The pair then strolled towards the gardens outside the estate, to finally have the tea Isabella brought with her.

A small white table of delicacies had been prepared for the two as they chatted away. Neither brought up the conversation they shared in the bathroom, both deciding they could already tell what the other was thinking.

It was nice to be able to have her spirits lifted, given the current tense situation in the Cherliann Household. Irene couldn't help but worry about Sarah's situation, hoping to visit her in her chambers soon. But it seemed the duchess was currently resting and did not wish to be disturbed.

"I see... So Her Grace is unwell right now..." Isabella frowned, after Irene explained the situation to her. Though she didn't wish to disclose the information, Isabella was probably the only person the princess felt comfortable enough to talk about this with.

Lifting a hand up to her chin in deep thought, her soft brown eyes lowered in rumination. "I wonder if I can make something to help her symptoms, with my medicinal alchemy."

"If you could, it would be a great help." Irene sighed. Lashes downcast, she lifted the porcelain teacup to her lips.

Suddenly- a sharp pain shot through her wrist.

"Ouch!-"

With a flinch, she quickly set the cup down onto its saucer - saving it from falling. But the throbbing pain in her slim hand remained.

Isabella's eyes shot towards Irene with concern. "Are you alright?"

A strained smile crossed her face. "I'm fine. I think I pulled a muscle during training today..."

Stretching her arm out, she slowly rotated her wrist and allowed her muscles to relax. Irene could feel the knot in her palm untangle, and the cramping sensation slowly faded.

A sigh of relief resounded from her lips, but she was quick to scowl with irritation. "That damned Mikael - he just never pulls his punches. I'm a lady, you know! You should be gentler with me." She ranted, grumbling in aggravation. But upon glancing at Isabella's expression - her sheepish eyes seemed to be staring at something behind Irene.

"What's that about being a lady? All I see is an idiot."

The familiar voice froze her in place.

Turning slowly around in a petrified state, Irene's wide eyes were veiled with dread when a pair of cold, clearly irritated blue orbs glared daggers down at her from directly behind her seat. Mikael's soft blonde locks shadowed his head and those slender arms were crossed.

Please tell me he didn't hear that-

Oh, who am I kidding. He definitely heard it.

"W-Why are you here?" She quickly questioned, still surprised by the prince's sudden appearance. He eyed her clinically - like a hawk for a long moment.