Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 85

By the afternoon, the dress for the banquet arrived. It was a pristine white dress, elegant with minimal decorations.

After a thorough bath, Miesa tried on the new dress. However, as Gella tied the ribbon at the back, she tilted her head in concern.

“Uh, what should we do? The back looks very awkward,” Gella said, her voice tinged with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Miesa asked, turning her head slightly.

“The back of the dress, where the fabric is thin, shows the scars,” Gella explained, gently touching the delicate material. “We might need to fix it. Please take it off for now.”

As Gella prepared to leave the room with the dress, she hesitated.

“I should ask the master if Madam Cladnier knows about the scars,” Gella suggested, pausing at the door.

“She probably doesn’t. Eirik once mentioned he wasn’t sure if he should tell her,” Miesa replied softly.

“Wow, it’s convenient that you remember everything. I’ll talk to the master about it then,” Gella said with a nod.

“Maybe…” Miesa’s voice trailed off as a small thought crossed her mind.

“What is it?” Gella asked, sensing her hesitation.

“Nothing.”

“Please, tell me,” Gella urged gently.

After some hesitation, Miesa finally spoke up. “What if we embroidered… like on the bib, with green and yellow flowers…”

The bib made by the maids was the prettiest thing Miesa had ever owned. She imagined how beautiful the dress would be with such embroidery.

“Um, this dress isn’t really suited for embroidery by the maids,” Gella said, puzzled.

“You’re right. The maids are busy, so forget it,” Miesa waved her hand dismissively, feeling she had said something strange.

Gella, feeling guilty for probing, decided to inform Eirik when he returned. Surprisingly, he was very agreeable.

“Let’s do that. I’ll inform my mother,” Eirik said decisively.

“But…” Gella began, but Eirik interrupted her.

“My wife rarely expresses her desires, so we should fulfill them when she does,” Eirik said, turning to Miesa, who was clearly pleased. “You should also learn to express what you want to others.”

“Yes…”

“But be prepared for refusals and unexpected outcomes. You need to get used to it,” Eirik continued. He was saying this because he had met Fabrian, the supposed illegitimate child of the late king, today. Events were progressing rapidly.

This meant it was time to start preparing to send Miesa away, which dampened his spirits.

“Gella, are you learning to cook?” Eirik asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, since yesterday…” Gella nodded meekly. She was glad she had visited the kitchen last night.

“Then go ahead. You must have many tasks to attend to,” Eirik said, dismissing her. With that, he flopped onto the bed.

Miesa looked happy. Watching her tenderly, Eirik reached out and pulled her close. Her slender body fit snugly into his embrace.

“……”

For a moment, Eirik thought about having a child before sending her away. He frowned at the idea, scolding himself. Miesa’s body might not be able to endure pregnancy, and childbirth in harsh conditions was as good as a death sentence.

Miesa needed to understand this too. Unable to hold back, Eirik began lecturing her unexpectedly.

“We should have a child only when it’s safe and stable. Understand?”

“What…? Yes,” Miesa replied, confused.

“Women can lose their lives giving birth. You need to be very healthy, with skilled midwives and a clean home…” Eirik’s voice was firm, though his heart ached.

Thinking about the possibility that he might not be the father of her child made him want to abandon everything and flee with her.

Miesa, with wide eyes, asked, “Could it be cleaner than here?”

“This place is relatively clean,” Eirik admitted, though he knew the shadows cast by the windows gave it a somber look. He closed his eyes, listening to Miesa’s whisper.

“I don’t really want a child. Is that okay?”

“Yes, but why?”

“If I were to lick the floor…”

“Don’t lick the floor. Even if it’s clean, that’s too much. You can lick a picture frame if you must.”

“Even if I lick the frame… If the mother is mad, people will criticize the child. The child might grow up feeling cursed for being born. Even if they learn the truth later, it will leave scars,” Miesa explained, her voice trembling.

Eirik opened his eyes. He silently vowed again to kill Vermel.

“My mother was kind. She was strict with me but always hugged me after scolding,” Miesa continued, her voice soft.

Hearing Miesa mumbling, Eirik gently stroked her back.

“Is it okay to talk about your mother now?” he asked gently.

“It seems so. It’s been getting easier for a while now,” Miesa said, nodding slightly.

Miesa then spoke about the maids at Celia Palace without being asked. She laughed softly, recalling how much they adored her as a child.

She recounted how they secretly gave her candy and got scolded for it, and how they played tag in the garden on sunny days.

“Excuse me for a moment. I know you are busy, but I need to ask something. This bib, who made it back then?” Gella asked, waving the bib at the entrance to the workroom.

The maids, who were busy mending torn seams, all looked up simultaneously. They glanced at Gella, then at the bib, and finally at each other, whispering amongst themselves.

“I did. Why?” one maid cautiously stood up and approached Gella.

“Can you make another one?”

“Ah, yes. But this one…”

Gella placed the box containing the dress on the table in the center of the workroom. As she opened the box and took out the dress, the maids gathered around curiously.

“Here, we need embroidery on this part and this part,” Gella pointed out.

“What? Are you serious? Isn’t this the dress for the madam to wear at the banquet?”

The maid naturally turned pale.

“I can’t do this. I just made that bib for fun. You can’t ask me to do this now,” she protested.

“Fun? Don’t say that,” Gella replied, trying to suppress her irritation and persuade the maid. But the maid shook her head vigorously.

“The great madam won’t forgive this. She made this dress and gifted it to the madam.”

“Well, the great madam said it’s okay.”

“But I’m not an embroidery specialist! Please don’t make me work on something that’s going to be worn at the palace!”

The maid burst into tears, and Gella tried to comfort her.

“Come on, it’s just embroidery. There’s no dedicated specialist. Just do it.”

The other maids, who had gathered around, began to chime in.

“The head maid. She’s the one who does the great madam’s handkerchief embroidery.”

“The head maid is the best at embroidery. Among all the maids in both the estate and the capital.”

“Her? Can she even see well enough?” Gella asked skeptically.

A sharp voice came from behind Gella. “I can see perfectly well. I heard some crying, so I came to check.”

The head maid, looking well over seventy, walked slowly toward them, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the dress and bib.

“Surely, you’re not suggesting we embroider this as it is. This is a fine, clean dress made from precious fabric. Adding embroidery now will ruin its balance. The distinct feature of this dress is the use of two types of silk to create a layered effect. Adding embroidery would make it look tacky and ridiculous. The very idea shows a complete lack of understanding of clothing. Who suggested this nonsense, and how did the great madam agree to it?”

Even in that brief moment, the head maid’s words flowed endlessly. She was known for her relentless scolding that could overwhelm the maids.

“The Margrave did,” Gella replied.

Even the head maid was silenced at the mention of the Margrave’s orders. She squinted at the embroidery from a distance and then up close.

“I can do it, but you want me to replicate this pattern exactly?” she asked.

“Well, you’re allowed to use some discretion,” Gella replied.

Gella and the head maid then leaned in together, discussing the embroidery at length.