Chapter 77
When Princess Muriela finally forced her heavy eyelids open, the sun was already high in the sky.
Lunchtime had long passed, and her empty stomach growled incessantly.
“Mnyaa… Huh? What time is it? Ugh, I’m starving.”
Staggering, she shuffled weakly toward the door.
She opened it and looked around, but no one was there. Usually, either Bianca or Florina would be nearby.
“Why’s nobody here? Oh right, I gave Bianca a day off yesterday. Yaaawn…”
But where was Florina? Solinor pondered through the haze of another yawn.
She was supposed to be stationed at the quarters all week, handling things solo.
Still, Solinor wasn’t some helpless child—he could handle things alone just fine.
“I’m hungry… guess I’ll go eat.”
Meanwhile, Florina was still passed out in the servants’ quarters.
After all the chaos and little sleep, not even her training could keep her going.
On top of that, she had spent a long time explaining things to the chef and gardener.
She came home late saying she was just stepping out briefly, didn’t touch the lovingly prepared meal, and passed out.
The chef, who had wasted his efforts, and the gardener, who hadn’t seen the princess all day, had been worried.
Florina gave some excuse about losing track of time while walking in the royal gardens, barely skating by.
But now she’d caused another mess.
The handmaiden responsible for managing the princess’s schedule and mealtimes was out cold.
Florina missed breakfast, and now lunch had passed as well.
The chef, who normally respected servant boundaries and didn’t meddle, had left her alone out of courtesy.
But this was going too far. So, he stood knocking on her door.
Of course, Sir Hamilton was just as guilty, but confronting him was more daunting.
He was a quasi-noble, after all, and the chef was a commoner—not exactly easy to scold someone like that.
But Florina? She was technically a commoner too, despite her father’s quasi-noble status.
There was no way a quasi-noble would come storming into the palace to defend her. Not that it mattered—her status was fake anyway.
“Hey, open up! It’s the chef. What the hell are you doing, skipping four meals in a row? What about the princess?”
Florina was snoring away on her stomach, drooling blissfully.
Only when the knocking persisted did she open her eyes.
“Huh? Oh! Just a sec!”
Having eaten nothing, her legs trembled. Only her spy training kept her from collapsing.
One glance at the clock showed that lunch was already far gone.
She only meant to take a quick nap while the princess slept…
“Oh crap, this is bad.”
She quickly straightened her clothes in front of the mirror and wiped the drool from her mouth.
The chef stood outside with an exasperated look, hands on hips.
“So, sleep well?”
A gentle tone, but laced with annoyance.
“Yes. Very well,” she answered, shamelessly.
At this point, she figured she may as well be honest.
The chef blinked in disbelief, but there was nothing he could do.
She couldn’t very well tell him about yesterday’s royal adventure, could she?
As he looked at her deadpan expression, he sighed and got to the point.
“Ahem… So, something tiring happened? You’ve been asleep forever. I worked hard on that meal, you know. Skipping it without notice? That’s just rude. I know you might’ve been tired from walking, but still.”
Even if the chef was older, he had no authority over her.
Their roles were different, and she didn’t report to him.
If anyone was going to scold her, it would have to be the princess herself.
“I know, right? The princess was enjoying her walk so much she refused to come back. Poor Bianca had to take a vacation after how stressful it was.”
Florina shamelessly threw both the princess and Bianca under the bus.
In her defense, she really had tried to stop the princess from sneaking out.
The rest was entirely Muriela’s fault.
Bianca had done nothing wrong, but Florina still held a grudge for ditching her.
Bianca slipped out of the chaos unscathed, and left all the cleanup to her.
Sure, even if Bianca had stayed, she wouldn’t have helped—she would’ve been one more person to protect.
But resentment isn’t always rational.
‘Seriously? Walking around the palace gardens was that exhausting…?’
The chef tried to counter, but stopped himself.
If someone says they’re tired, what can you do?
Florina’s dark circles were painfully obvious, and she still looked like she could collapse.
She kept blinking slowly, unable to keep her eyes open, swaying like a leaf.
Even the grumpy chef couldn’t stay mad after seeing that.
Knock knock knock!
Just then, someone knocked on the servants’ quarters door.
Neither of them expected anyone, and they looked at each other puzzled.
Then came a familiar voice.
“I’m hungry! Let’s eat!”
It was none other than Muriela.
The princess had finally arrived at the servants’ quarters, staggering all the way there.
It had taken her quite a while despite the short distance because she kept sitting down and dozing off along the way.
Florina and the chef rushed to open the door, revealing the princess in her pajamas, eyes half-closed.
“Y-Your Highness, what brings you all the way here…”
As the two stammered their question, Muriela responded without even opening her eyes fully.
“What else? Feed me. I’m starving.”
“Yes, I’ll begin cooking right away. I’ll hurry, but it’ll still take a bit of time, so please wait just a little longer.”
The lunch they had cooked earlier had already gone cold.
Naturally, they couldn’t serve such food to royalty. It would have to be freshly cooked.
But Muriela looked puzzled.
“What? Lunch is over. Isn’t there anything already made?”
“It’s been a while, so the food has gone cold. We’ll have to make it again.”
“Huh? Did you throw it out?”
“No, we stored it in a chill-preserving box. We planned to reheat it later and serve it to the servants.”
At that, Muriela’s face lit up.
“What? So there is food! Why bother making new stuff? Just give me that. I’m starving.”
“Uh… but…”
“No buts! I’m hungry!”
Just then, Florina’s stomach let out a loud grumble. Muriela’s ears twitched in response.
“What? Florina, you haven’t eaten either?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Hmm… Want to eat together then? Chef, is there enough for two?”
“Yes, there is plenty. However…”
“How can I wait when I’m starving? Just reheat it and serve it.”
“Sigh…”
He was a royal chef, after all. His pride was at stake—he couldn’t just reheat cold food.
It was hard to compromise, but the princess’s demand was firm. What could he do?
Just as he was about to set aside his pride under the weight of royal authority, the door to Sir Hamilton’s room opened.
“Ugh, what time is it—huh?”
Rubbing his face as he stepped out, Hamilton froze when he saw the pajama-clad princess.
“Your Highness, what brings you—”
“Sir Hamilton, have you eaten?”
There was no need to answer. His stomach answered for him with a mighty growl.
“Perfect. Chef, is there enough for three?”
“Yes.”
“Then hurry and bring it.”
“As you command.”
As the chef disappeared into the kitchen, Muriela barked out orders to the others.
Her tone was surprisingly forceful—it was clear how hungry she was.
“Sir Hamilton, hurry to the dining room. I’m starving. Come on, Florina, you too.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness.”
The two were still trying to make sense of the situation, but they couldn’t deny their own hunger.
Besides, you couldn’t ignore an order given with that kind of royal force.
Eventually, the three arrived at the dining room. Muriela sat down at the table first.
The other two hesitated, unsure what to do, so she urged them again.
“What are you doing? Sit down already. You have to sit to eat, don’t you? Florina, hurry up too.”
“B-but… the royal protocol…”
Hamilton tried to cite traditional etiquette, which forbade servants from dining with royalty.
But Muriela shot it down with one firm line.
“Who cares about protocol? We’re eating. Sit.”
A hungry Muriela was the strongest of them all.
—
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