Ariante’s lips jutted out as she sat with her legs stretched out on the plush rug. Her cheeks were visibly swollen, flushed a shade of red, as if something deeply displeased her.

Bainti nervously fiddled with his hands, unlike his usual composure. Every time his face was about to contort, Meiana would cough and nudge him in the ribs with her elbow, making it difficult for him to even feign a smile.

Ariante was focused solely on tearing up some thin paper—oily and rigid—into fine pieces. Already, a small hill of torn paper had piled up at her feet, and she hadn’t spoken a word all the while.

Finally, Meiana called Ariante. It was her tenth attempt.

“Your Highness.”

Ariante turned her head sharply and looked at the two of them. Her small, azure eyes sparkled so brightly that Bainti felt strangely captivated, as if seeing them for the first time.

Her entire body, her facial expression, declared she was incredibly angry. Bainti found this irritating and worrisome—not that he was worried for Ariante—so he didn’t know what to do. But Meiana remained unfazed.

Rip. The sound echoed as Ariante defiantly tore another piece of paper. Another strip landed on the mound of scraps.

Meiana spoke.

“Your Highness, what will you do with all these torn papers? Build a mouse house?”

Ariante’s head snapped around. She glared at Meiana with all her might, then turned her fierce gaze on Bainti before settling back down and retorting dismissively.

“You wouldn’t understand. And mice don’t live in places like this. Idiot.”

Meiana let out a short sigh mixed with laughter. She sat down next to Ariante, who was shifting away from her.

“Bainti will be good to you from now on.”

So, that was it. Ariante was angry because of Bainti! From Bainti’s perspective, he had been duped into this unpleasant situation by Meiana’s plans, but for Ariante, it was no happier event either.

She couldn’t bear the idea of seeing Bainti’s face, which had so often annoyed her, every single day.

Ariante rolled her eyes towards Bainti.

“I don’t like that grumpy guy.”

Then she violently kicked the pile of paper scraps she had accumulated. The slender shreds scattered across the thick rug, and Bainti nearly made a frustrated face. After all, he would be the one to clean it up…

But that couldn’t last long. Ariante’s gaze was still fixed on him, and she seemed fully prepared to vent her anger at the slightest move from him.

In that sense, Meiana was Bainti’s savior at the moment. Without her, even this awkward silence would not have been possible.

As Meiana gently adjusted Ariante’s disheveled hair, she spoke.

“Bainti won’t be mean to Your Highness anymore.”

“How do you know that?”

“If Bainti is mean, you tell me.”

“Will you drive him away?”

Meiana’s shoulders gave a slight shrug.

“No, I won’t be the one to drive him away. That’s for the Count to do.”

Bainti stood there, biting his lip, as he listened to this whole conversation. How on earth had he found himself in this situation? Before he knew it, he had been reduced to obeying Meiana, doing whatever she asked. Why? He felt he had done nothing wrong…

Ariante, lips protruding and visibly annoyed, looked at Bainti and spoke.

“I want to drink milk. With a spoonful of honey. And bring cookies topped with rose sugar.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back.”
Vainty bowed exaggeratedly at the waist and hurriedly left the room.

It wasn’t that he was committed to being polite to Ariante. If he could escape that stifling space, he’d gladly go fetch not just milk but a cow.

A slight smile finally crossed Ariante’s lips as she watched Vainty scurry off. However, her gaze upon Meyana remained piercing.

“I don’t need Vainty or Grete.”

Meyana chuckled.

“Then who does Your Highness need?”

Ariante’s round cheeks twitched momentarily. Caught between answering and not, a soft murmur escaped her trembling lips.

“My father.”

“Is the Count enough?”

“Yes, that’s right. I just need my father.”

Meyana said,

“Shall I tell all the servants of this house to leave then? The cook, Miss Kosha, Vainty, Grete, and even myself. What will happen when other spiteful servants disappear?”

Startled, Ariante raised her head. Her eyes moved cautiously, as if trying to understand what Meyana was asking, what she meant.

“Who will make the chocolate cake with seeds that Your Highness loves if the cook is gone? Who will mend your clothes and arrange your dresses if the maids are gone? Who will bring you milk with honey if Vainty or Grete are not here? What will you do when you have to ride a horse as you grow older and there’s no stable hand to care for the horse?”

At Meyana’s persuasive words, Ariante’s face flushed, and she was at a loss for words. She was both embarrassed and angry, but couldn’t vent her anger.

Meyana took Ariante’s small hands and said,

“Your Highness, when you grow up, you’ll meet more people. They may like you or dislike you. But they will all be necessary for you in some way.”

“Why do I need people who hate me? I hate that!”