I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Surely, I couldn’t be the only one. I rose unsteadily and almost instinctively went to the table laden with a mountain of food, a feast fit for a wedding, much of it recognizable from the reception. A platter piled high with grapes and nutmeg caught my eye. I popped a grape into my mouth.
Sweet juice burst on my tongue. Finally, sustenance. I smiled. Cesar simply watched, no reaction.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
Still silence.
‘Perhaps he doesn’t like fruit? What about meat?’
I turned to the roasted horned fowl before me, its golden-brown skin glistening with citrus sauce. I picked up a leg, and Cesar swallowed audibly.
‘He is hungry.’
“I’m going to eat this.”
“Yes.”
“Really.”
“Mmm.”
As I brought the leg towards my mouth, a look of longing crossed his face.
“Come here. Let’s eat together.”
“Yes.”
He agreed readily, but didn’t move. I slowly approached him, the drumstick in hand. His lips twitched nervously as I drew near, but his eyes remained fixed on the meat.
“Ces—”
Before I could reach him, he snatched the drumstick from my hand. It happened so fast, all that remained was the sticky residue on my fingers. And Cesar…
“Oh my…”
He retreated to his corner and devoured it, the entire leg reduced to bare bone in under two seconds.
“Ha…”
He even sucked on his fingers, clearly still hungry.
“Have some more.”
I took the platter of roasted fowl and placed it on the floor. Cesar glanced around nervously, as if checking for an unseen audience, despite being alone.
‘He must have suffered greatly.’
I slid the platter towards him. His face lit up. He crept forward, fifteen small steps, and grabbed another drumstick, tearing into it with his bare hands.
“You’re eating well…”
‘It would be nice if he ate at the table. And if he didn’t retreat to the corner every time.’ He was clearly more sensitive when hungry. ‘It must be hard for you right now.’
“Phew.”
I sat down at the table. Cesar stared at me. The roasted fowl was already a pile of white bones. I was amazed he’d devoured it so quickly.
“Come here.”
He couldn’t possibly be full. I beckoned him. His eyes flickered with uncertainty.
“You have to come here to eat more.”
I picked up a piece of lamb and turnip stew with my fork, the juices dripping enticingly.
“Mmm, this looks delicious.”
I exaggerated my movements and tone, glancing at Cesar. Then I put the meat in my mouth. It melted on my tongue. The royal chef had outdone himself. I couldn’t ignore my own hunger any longer and began spearing more pieces of meat.
“Yes.”
Cesar, now beside me, tugged at my skirt. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Sit here.”
I pointed to the chair next to me. To my surprise, he obeyed, sitting down and grabbing handfuls of food from the platter.
“Wow.”
His unrestrained manner made me exclaim again.
‘A prince with no table manners. This has been a string of surprises.’
My sense of normalcy felt skewed.
“Use the fork. Your hands are dirty.”
“Yes.”
His hands were covered in grease and grime, his mouth smeared with food. I quickly dipped a napkin in the finger bowl and cleaned his hands and face. He initially tried to pull away, but then yielded.
“Here, hold this and eat.”
I speared a piece of lamb and turnip stew with a fork and placed it in his hand.
“Hold?”
I worried he might throw it, but he didn’t.
