I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 43
Chapter 43
“Yes, lovely.” I admired the now smooth and neatly trimmed nails. It had taken quite a while. “Shall we go back now?”
“Okay.”
That evening, a meager meal was served: dry roasted grouse, thin soup with celery and lentils, stale bread, and watered-down wine. My small frame didn’t require much. It had been that way since my days on the streets. I’d survived for days without food, my stomach accustomed to little.
It was the same even after I arrived at the Duke of Flores’s estate. Except for the weekly Sunday dinner with the family, I ate alone in my room, consuming the servants’ black bread and bland, saltless porridge. Even that felt extravagant.
‘I was grateful just to be alive.’
But Cesar was different. He’d devoured an entire roast horned chicken by himself last time.
“Do you want more of this?” I pushed my portion of grouse towards him. Without hesitation, he picked it up with his hand and smiled, taking a large bite. His sharp canines flashed. The way he crunched through the bones made me marvel.
“Don’t eat the bones.”
“Okay.” He finally started picking out the white bones. For some reason, I felt full even though I hadn’t eaten much.
“It’s good to see you eat so well.”
‘I’ll have to teach him proper table manners.’ The Empress’s banquet included a formal dinner.
“You can’t eat like this there.”
‘There’s so much to teach him.’
We finished the simple meal. Mercedes hadn’t reappeared since our earlier encounter. The memory of her face weighed on my mind.
“I hope she’s alright.”
I felt uneasy all the way to bed. Then, the next morning, I realized something was very wrong.
***
‘Is this real?’
“What in the world…” I had fallen asleep alone, but Cesar was now in my bed, sharing the covers and clinging to my waist. But even more concerning than that were his nails.
“How… how did this happen?” I grabbed him as he tried to sit up, rubbing his eyes.
“Huh?” The perfectly filed nails from yesterday had returned to their original, sharp state overnight.
“They grow this fast?”
What could possibly make blunt nails grow back so quickly? Before I could process my shock, a knock came. It was Mercedes.
“Your Highnesses, did you call?”
“Ah, yes.”
I had worried it might be awkward after yesterday, but she entered calmly, carrying a basin of water.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I replied cheerfully.
‘If only Cesar’s nails had stayed trimmed, I could have shown Mercedes. Maybe she would have felt better about things.’
Trying to gauge her mood, I brought up what I thought would be a safe topic. That’s why I told her about trimming Cesar’s nails.
“I did… what?”
“Yesterday. Cesar bathed himself, and I trimmed his nails.”
“.…”
“And you know what? They’ve already grown back!” I was so caught up in recounting the miraculous events—Cesar bathing himself and his nails growing back overnight—that I missed the way Mercedes’s face paled and her body trembled.
“How is that even possible? Isn’t it amazing?”
My cheerful tone was a facade, an attempt to bridge the subtle gap that had formed between us. I should have noticed Mercedes’s expression then. Her face was bright, like a field of spring flowers in full bloom. But hidden within that brightness was an unexpected fissure.
“….”
Mercedes remained silent, a suffocating silence. A crack in the field. So small, easily overlooked at first glance. Some might simply step over it without a second thought. But I was different. Having spent my life looking down, I knew that even the smallest crack could cause a fall. And I already felt my foot caught in that tiny fissure.
“Mercedes?” I called her name, trying to gauge the depth of the crevice.
