Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 117

“Do the ladies-in-waiting normally address each other like that?” he inquired.

The ladies-in-waiting of the royal palace bowed deeply and replied, “Isn’t she someone Your Majesty treasures greatly? She is different from us.”

Gella’s face flushed red with embarrassment at their words. Seeing this, Miesa glared at the young lady-in-waiting and snapped, “Leave, all of you.”

“Pardon?”

“Tilberg, why are you just standing there doing nothing?” Miesa’s sharp tone startled Tilberg. He was still shaken from the shock of what had happened earlier in the room behind the office.

“Sorry? Your Majesty?”

“I said to get them out. Don’t just stand there watching.”

Tilberg, even more surprised, gestured to the ladies-in-waiting. “Her Majesty has ordered you to leave. Hurry, and don’t return until her meal is finished.”

The ladies-in-waiting looked upset, but Miesa found the situation absurd. Does he plan to bring them back after the meal?

“No, I mean expel them from the palace entirely. I don’t want to see their faces again.”

“Please, Your Majesty,” Eirik interrupted, taking Miesa’s hand and urgently speaking to Tilberg and the ladies-in-waiting. “Everyone, just leave for now. Her Majesty is upset.”

Miesa’s eyes widened in disbelief at his words. Once the Captain of the Guard and the ladies-in-waiting had hurried out and the door closed, Miesa turned to Eirik, filled with indignation.

“Why are you treating me like Vermel, saying I’m upset?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think I’m angry over nothing? Didn’t you see what they were doing to Gella? I know what that was. It’s hazing.”

She had always thought those who bullied were the good ones. When the Cladis locals at the Cladnier estate reproached those from the capital, she had subtly sided with them. But seeing Gella subjected to the same treatment by the ladies-in-waiting ignited a furious rage within her.

Meanwhile, Eirik pressed his temples with one hand. In his view, it was a matter that only required a warning, yet Miesa seemed overly agitated. Reluctantly, he began to explain the basic situation.

“It’s not just simple hazing. Despite being nobles themselves, they may feel disgruntled that a commoner like Gella secured a position as a lady-in-waiting.”

“How dare those nobles torment my person in front of me?” Miesa retorted.

“Strictly speaking, they haven’t done anything overt beyond giving her looks. They didn’t openly harass Gella, so she must quickly learn and adapt,” Eirik suggested, trying to soothe her.

But his attempt to calm her was like pouring water on boiling oil. Miesa only grew angrier. “I despise it when people torment others without a visible flaw. Just because they do it politely doesn’t make it hurt any less. I can’t stand the sight of them.”

“Your Majesty, it hasn’t even been two days since you arrived at the palace. Are you planning to expel all the court attendants?”

Eirik tried to calm her with a composed voice, but Miesa was only becoming more incensed. “Eirik, when Vermel was cutting and stabbing people, they couldn’t even raise their heads. But how ridiculous do they think I am, to act like this toward Gella in my presence? And you…”

She took a deep breath, letting out her frustration. “How could you speak to me like that? ‘Upset’? That’s what people said when Vermel was rampaging.”

“Wait, Miesa. You’re too worked up. Take a moment to breathe,” Eirik said, reaching out to rub her back, but she shook off his hand.

“I’ll handle it myself. Don’t tell me how to breathe.”

Just then, the door opened, and a red-haired head peeked in.

“Knock knock.”

Duke Salachez, mimicking the sound of knocking with his mouth, thought his actions were quite charming, but Miesa, her anger boiling over, snapped at him, “If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll tear you limb from limb, Salachez.”

“Miesa, no matter how much he’s done, you shouldn’t use threats like that,” Eirik admonished gently, even using her name. Meanwhile, Duke Salachez edged into the room. Miesa responded with a fierce glare, but Salachez just grinned and suggested, “Perhaps you both need some time apart to cool down?”

“Get out, Salachez.”

Pretending to retreat, Duke Salachez continued to chatter. “You seemed in such a good mood earlier, Your Majesty, but what a shame the dinner has been ruined. Especially since veal ribs really don’t taste as good when cold.”

Eirik sighed and stood up, remembering that Miesa had skipped lunch. “Let’s have our meal first, and we can continue this conversation after dinner.”

He left the room, and Miesa was taken aback by how readily Eirik left just because the red-haired man said a few words. She was still breathing heavily when Salachez sidled back over to her.

She glared at him, but Duke Salachez, with an awkward smile, asked, “If you want me to shut up, I will. But could I at least have a piece of bread?”

“Don’t touch it. I told you to leave.”

“I haven’t eaten anything today. Show some mercy and give a starving man a piece of bread.”

His beggarly posture prompted Miesa to ask, “…Why haven’t you eaten, Duke?”

“I arrived at the palace at dawn for an audience, skipped lunch waiting for Your Majesty to appear, and haven’t had dinner yet. And come to think of it, Gella must be hungry too, right?”

Salachez tore a piece of bread in half and offered it to Gella. Miesa’s attention shifted from the duke to Gella. She had been so preoccupied with Salachez that she hadn’t noticed Gella’s reddened eyes.

“Gella, are you crying? Is it because of those girls earlier?”

“No, madam. I mean, no, Your Majesty,” Gella sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“You know how it is. I cry at the slightest breeze,” Gella said.

“The windows are closed. Don’t lie. It’s because of them, isn’t it?” Miesa insisted.

Before Gella could respond, Salachez interjected, “I think Gella really does cry easily, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t butt in, Salachez,” Miesa said sharply, before waving a hand and forcing a smile as she coaxed Gella to sit down. She moved the soup from in front of her to Gella’s spot.

“Gella, don’t eat while crying. Have some of this.”

“I wasn’t crying. Really, I wasn’t,” Gella said, trying to reassure Miesa as she ate the bread. Miesa glanced at Salachez, who had just given Gella the bread. Despite being a noble and one of the three pillars of the palace, he seemed less disagreeable now, given that he was looking out for Gella.

“Duke Salachez, is that something people actually say?”

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Salachez asked.

“When people say, ‘They cry at the slightest breeze,’ does that mean they’re really that sensitive?”

Salachez, noticing Miesa’s slightly softened expression, grinned. “It’s all in how you say it. Just like how the same words sound harsh when spoken plainly, like the Margrave does, and can upset Your Majesty.”

“Salachez, don’t think you can badmouth Eirik to me,” Miesa said, frowning, to which Salachez replied with admiration.

“See? That’s how you resolve a marital spat.”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Most lovers’ quarrels are the same. Even when they’re threatening each other’s lives, if someone chimes in and agrees that the spouse is indeed at fault, they get upset and defend their partner,” Salachez explained, describing human interactions in vivid detail, which intrigued Miesa.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Because the more you love someone, the more you bicker. That’s what they say about love, though I wouldn’t know firsthand. I’ve never had a lover, but I’ve heard plenty,” he said, skillfully cutting the veal ribs as he spoke.

“Here, this is for Your Majesty, and this is for Gella. Please, both of you, eat while it’s warm.”

“…Thank you, Your Grace,” Gella replied.

“Don’t call me ‘Your Grace.’ My name is Doid,” Salachez said.

“What do you mean? I can’t address Your Grace by name,” Gella said, startled.

“But no one calls me by my name,” Salachez replied.

For some reason, everything this man said reminded Miesa of her past. Not being treated as a person, going without food all day, not having anyone to call your name.

He seemed weak, whining about such trivial things, yet Miesa found herself curious. Considering his kindness to Gella, he didn’t seem like a bad person.

“Doid, enough with the nonsense and eat your meal,” Miesa said gruffly, causing Duke Salachez to smile.

That smile suggested he was about to spout more nonsense, so she was about to order him out again, but he simply continued to slice his ribs with a grin.

Though she hadn’t explicitly allowed it, Salachez subtly took a seat. Miesa didn’t bother to send him away.

As they began their meal, Salachez held his ribs and spoke again with a polite tone.

Just as they were about to begin their meal, Salachez picked up his ribs and politely asked, “Your Majesty, may I hold and eat the meat with my hands?”

“Do whatever is comfortable. Gella, would you like to do the same?”

“Oh, no. The Duke has already kindly cut the meat for me…”

As Gella declined, waving her hand, Duke Salachez bit into his rib, chewing noisily while mumbling, “The meat on the bone is the best part, but trying to cut it all off with a knife just results in that annoying screeching sound.”

Come to think of it, it had been a while since she’d heard that sound. Miesa recalled the last time that irritating noise had occurred. That time, it was Madam Cladnier.

“Dear, Miesa is still practicing. Please don’t say anything.”