People Aren't Meant to Be Fixed! (4 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 148

Next, I took a deep breath to calm myself, then gently tapped my desk with the index finger of my left hand. By now, the contents of the documents no longer registered in my mind. I stared only at the desk, trying to catch my breath for a moment.

My beautifully crafted desk—custom-made to suit my taste—was fashioned by gathering the finest artisans who polished marble with unmatched skill, and its surface underwent special treatment during the finishing process.

Perhaps because of this, every time I touched it, the texture felt as smooth as silk, causing me to absentmindedly tap or stroke it whenever lost in deep thought. It reminded me of the sensation I felt the first time I touched Poppy.

Someone might hear this and object, saying Poppy is a doll covered in fur, so how could it possibly be compared to a mere marble desk?

But I am the Crown Princess—who would dare voice such words aloud rather than keep them locked inside their head? Only someone with extraordinary boldness like Freyrie, Ronowe, or perhaps Beris might consider it.

Anyway, my thoughts had wandered off-topic… Returning to the main point, I was merely bragging about how superb my study desk truly is—so exquisite that, whenever I long to escape my duties, I can mindlessly trace its surface and indulge in daydreams.

‘Father and Mother insisted that only the absolute finest materials be used for their daughter’s desk.’

The level of its luxury is proven by the fact that even Jeff and Hecate admitted theirs were inferior to mine. When Father declared he would commission new furniture as a coronation gift, I simply told him to do as he pleased. In the past, I would have scolded him endlessly for wasting state funds, but though I still don’t fully comprehend a parent’s heart, I now understand their desire to cherish and care for me—so I resolved not to dampen their spirit.

“I heard Hecate and Jeff have been meticulously preparing for this banquet.”

Speaking of which, the upcoming ball worries me greatly—specifically, the dancing. Having lived as a noble young lady, as a knight, as the Late Emperor just before becoming Crown Princess, and even as a ‘nameless noblewoman’ under Ulrika’s protection, I hold no fear in dealing with aristocrats.

I’ve had more than enough of human interaction—and politics, for that matter.

Therefore, I can endure gossip, rumors, and all the sordid, shadowy undercurrents of high society.

Yet, like a fairy-tale witch’s curse, my dancing remains imperfect—and that, more than anything, deeply troubles me.

‘Summon the Empire’s finest tailor at once!’

The dress for the ball is progressing smoothly, and accessories, shoes, and jewels have all been selected without delay—but this clumsy body of mine refuses to keep proper rhythm. It’s infuriating.

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