Due to Josef’s constant rejections, Amelia ended up trying on nearly ten outfits.

From the fourth outfit onwards, she abandoned the cumbersome task of readjusting her pannier each time and instead draped the dresses over herself like robes, speeding through the process. If she had altered every detail meticulously, she might have spent the entire night changing clothes.

Amelia quietly observed her reflection in the mirror. The robe-style dress, made of pale cream silk embroidered with green thread, suited her well. The chemise underneath, adorned generously with gold thread, was quite luxurious, but that hardly mattered anymore. What preoccupied her was Josef, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and what he might say next.

“Do you like it?”

Josef’s question came from beyond the mirror. Without turning to face him as etiquette dictated, Amelia simply nodded.

“Bring an appropriate necklace,” Josef instructed, addressing the chamberlain.

“Your Highness, that won’t be necessary,” Amelia interjected.

“You sent me a necklace a few days ago. I’ll take that one again.”

Speaking in resignation, she felt too weary to make further decisions. She was dizzy from exhaustion and lacked the energy to choose anything more.

“Alright.”

Josef finally smiled, apparently satisfied.

“I hope you’ll accept the rest as well.”

The dresses Amelia had tried on earlier were now being neatly packed. The previously despondent seamstress regained her spirit and beamed brightly.

Josef seemed to have decided to purchase all ten outfits. After all, the issues he had raised—whether the hemline was too short or the sleeves too dull—could be fixed with some tailoring.

“Shall we place the dresses on the second floor?” the seamstress asked.

Betty hesitated. “I don’t think they’ll all fit in the bedroom wardrobe…”

“Then use a separate dressing room,” Josef suggested nonchalantly.

“Check the layout of the second floor. There are plenty of rooms.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the chamberlain replied, rising to his feet. He left the hall, trailed by Betty, the seamstress, and ten maids carrying the dresses like fish on a string.

Amelia watched in disbelief as Josef acted as though the place were his own. Yet, she was too drained to challenge his decisions.

“It’s well past lunchtime,” Josef remarked.

“…”

“Shall we eat?”

He acted as if Amelia’s weariness didn’t concern him. “Let’s go to the auxiliary residence. They probably don’t have time to prepare food here.”

Before Amelia could respond, Josef was already on his feet.

“Wait a moment. I’ll inform Betty,” Amelia said, rising from her seat. Today, she decided to let Josef have his way. She didn’t have the stamina to argue, and besides, she was hungry enough to appreciate his suggestion. Though she doubted she’d enjoy a relaxed meal in his company.

—

“Should I redo your hair?” Betty asked nervously, holding a comb. Hearing about lunch with Josef made her uneasy.

Amelia shook her head.

Even though it was a meal with the Crown Prince, there was no need for an elaborate hairstyle or attire, especially since the invitation lacked formal grounds. The luxurious dress she was wearing would suffice as a gesture of courtesy.

—

Josef stood silently near the front door of the mansion, waiting. He opened the door for Amelia and remained quiet as they crossed the garden. The faint cries of birds in the bushes filled the silence between them.

‘What kind of bird is that?’

Josef had transformed the garden into a lush forest, seemingly attracting small animals. Amelia, who knew little about flora and fauna apart from a few flowers, briefly wondered if she had heard that bird’s call before in Brienne.

She felt uneasy, realizing she didn’t entirely dislike the changes Josef had introduced.

“What kind of food do you like?” Josef suddenly asked.

The bird’s song stopped as if startled by his voice.

“You seem to handle your liquor well,” he added.

Amelia’s cheeks turned slightly red, recalling the time she had drunk too much in Josef’s presence and passed out. He seemed to remember it too.

“No denial?” Josef teased.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Amelia replied.

“Neither do I.”

As she avoided his playful gaze, the Crown Prince’s mansion and its auxiliary residence came into view at the end of a short path.

The guards, who had been chatting and laughing near the gate, froze when they saw Josef and Amelia. They quickly straightened up as if they’d seen a ghost.

Amelia kept her lips sealed as she walked past the guards who opened the door for her. Yet, Josef lingered outside.

‘What’s going on?’

She listened carefully, hearing Josef’s low murmur and then the sound of hurried footsteps running off. Only when those footsteps faded did Josef finally enter.

“What?” he asked, noticing Amelia’s attentive expression.

“…Nothing,” she replied.

“Did you feel uneasy without me?” Josef smirked.

“No.”

Amelia’s curt response made him chuckle.

“Follow me,” Josef said, guiding her down the long, quiet corridor.

—

Though Amelia had visited Josef’s auxiliary residence a few times, this was her first time entering the mansion itself. To her surprise, it didn’t differ much from his office space. The entire place felt sterile, devoid of any warmth or signs of personal life.

The only decorations were a few animal trophies displayed on pedestals, each as tall as Amelia. Noticing her gaze, Josef explained that they were from the annual hunting competitions.

“The next one will be held soon,” he added.

Josef, who had seated himself first at the dining table, spoke. Amelia had no choice but to sit diagonally across from him, like a loyal attendant. Since Josef had pulled out this particular chair for her, the remaining eighteen were no longer an option.

“…”

Seated, Amelia quietly observed each dish placed before her: a soft-boiled egg, white bread, vegetable stew, and steamed beef. Though the menu seemed unremarkable, it struck her as peculiar. It mirrored the meals Betty typically prepared for her.

“What’s wrong?”

Josef, seemingly displeased with Amelia’s silence, asked.

“Is this not right?”

“Pardon?”

“I ordered them to replicate it exactly.”

He turned to the maid pouring water into his glass.

“Fetch the head chef.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Moments later, the rotund head chef burst into the room, still wearing his apron, breathless and flustered.

“Y-You summoned me, Your Highness? Is there a problem…?”

“Did you properly verify the menu?”

“O-Of course, Your Highness.”

Sweating profusely, the chef explained, “We followed the instructions given by the guards who visited the Crown Princess’s residence. Everything—the herbs, the stew—was made just as the lady usually has it. The ingredients weren’t particularly complex, so there should be no mistake…”

However, upon seeing Amelia’s untouched plate, the chef faltered, his words trailing off, and his face looked on the verge of tears. Amelia finally understood the situation.

Earlier, Josef had ordered the guards to check her usual lunch menu so that she could dine as she typically did.

“My lady, if it doesn’t suit your taste, I will prepare something else.”

“No,” Amelia shook her head.

“It’s just… I was surprised because it looks exactly like what I always have.”

Hearing this, the chef’s face brightened with relief.

“I-I see. Thank you, my lady. Please enjoy your meal.”

Relieved and grateful, the chef sighed and left the room, still looking quite pleased despite Josef’s curt dismissal.

“Thank you,” Amelia also expressed her gratitude to Josef. Olstein cuisine, with its unfamiliar spices, was still challenging for her. Though his approach was a bit rough, Josef had ensured she received food she was comfortable eating.

Josef gave her a faintly amused look and sipped from his glass. Amelia noticed how meticulously polished the glass was, as if cleaned obsessively. Josef would only drink from perfectly clear glasses of water… Was that rule broken just once at the Crown Princess’s residence? If so, why?

The meal proceeded in silence. Josef handled his utensils with such grace that he barely made a sound, prompting Amelia to glance at him occasionally. Apart from his impeccable table manners, it was an otherwise unremarkable lunch.

* * *

However, Josef didn’t let Amelia leave so easily.

“I’d like to receive something in return for your gratitude,” he said, fixing his gaze on her after she finished her dessert. It seemed trivial to expect repayment for a single act of consideration, but Josef’s request was not entirely unreasonable.

He succinctly ordered her to make a handkerchief. It was for the upcoming hunting tournament. In Olstein, it was customary to tie a cloth to the saddle of one’s horse to identify it during war.

Would white, a noticeable color, be suitable? How large should it be? Should it have decorations? As she began to ask about the details, Josef, appearing unbothered by specifics, replied that it should resemble her usual handkerchiefs.

“Or you could just give me yours.”

He added with a sly smile, implying he knew she wouldn’t be comfortable with that.

Left with no choice, Amelia promised to make the handkerchief and was now on her way back to the Crown Princess’s residence.

As she walked along the path alone, a butterfly lazily flitted between the trees. It was an indifferent afternoon, neither joyous nor sorrowful. As the stone road came into view and the residence’s edge appeared, the peaceful silence was abruptly broken.

“Lady Amelia!”

Dana, who had been pacing anxiously in front of the mansion, gathered her skirts and hurried toward Amelia, stumbling in her haste.

“Lady Dana, what’s the matter?”

“My lady, I need your help,” Dana blurted out, her hair disheveled and breathless like a startled foal.

“Could you teach me how to make a lace handkerchief?”

“A handkerchief?”

Amelia tilted her head in confusion at the coincidental request, prompting Dana to explain.

“I’ve received an invitation from Sir Victor to attend the hunting tournament.”

Victor, the young master of the Blondel Barony, had shown keen interest in Dana since her debutante ball. Amelia recalled Dana’s excitement, speculating that her brother Henrik might soon approve their engagement.

“I have to give him a handkerchief, of course. Sir Victor is sure to succeed in the deer hunt.”

“Ah, I see. Alright,” Amelia nodded, having already learned the significance of the hunting tournament from Josef. However, Dana’s next words made Amelia freeze.

“Since the handkerchief given for the hunting tournament is traditionally from one’s betrothed, I want to make it as beautiful as possible.”