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Cesare's scent remained on the coat.
The very one she had caught in the imperial reception room.
This smell calmed her nerves like a balm after the acrid tobacco smoke.
Eileen carefully opened the edge of the coat.
The fabric under her fingers was soft and warm, thanks to Cesare's residual heat.
Apparently, Eileen hadn't wrapped herself properly, because Cesare solicitously adjusted the coat on her shoulders, lightly touching the tip of her nose with a finger.
He asked:
"And the garden?"
"Not yet..."
"Why 'not yet'?"
Cesare glanced at the servant who had accompanied Eileen.
The man hastily shoved a handkerchief with a cigarette butt into his pocket and reported clearly: "Your Highnesses were delayed, conversing."
The servant's tone was well-drilled, like a soldier's.
In his eyes was read boundless admiration and awe.
It seemed the very opportunity to speak with Cesare was the greatest honor.
Usually servants were divided into ranks, and assistant positions were held by representatives of the nobility.
Lower-ranking nobles were usually appointed to such low positions as this servant's.
Cesare was famous for recruiting people without regard for origin.
The knights he held closest were commoners who had received nobility for services.
Therefore, people admired Cesare, respected him, and even harbored small hopes.
Might they too fall into his field of vision and be able to rise?
Cesare smirked briefly, looking at the servant glowing with happiness.
"Conversing."
When his narrow eyes with red pupils squinted, the servant immediately lowered his gaze.
He didn't dare look Cesare in the eyes.
Apparently not wishing to say anything to the helpless servant, Cesare simply ordered briefly: "Escort Lady Parbelini." In an indifferent tone, he added: "It seems she's lost her way."
Everyone knew that was nonsense.
But here no one dared to cross the Grand Duke.
Even Ornella, the Emperor's fiancée, was for now only a young lady from the House of Parbelini.
Ornella showed neither anger nor offense.
She only silently pressed her lips together.
Her eyelashes trembled as if she were holding back tears.
"Grand Duke Erzet..." Ornella said in a trembling voice, clutching a handkerchief in her hand.
"I am glad to see you healthy.
Every day you were on campaign, I prayed for you.
I didn't miss a single day."
She smiled faintly.
Eileen too had prayed for Cesare every day, but compared with Ornella's prayers, it seemed as nothing.
Eileen lowered her eyes.
"But since you returned unharmed, God heard my prayers.
Now I may withdraw." Tilting slightly in a bow, Ornella asked the servant in a graceful voice: "Would you not escort me?"
She presented the embodiment of fading tenderness, like a broken lily.
The servant, enchanted by her fragility, for a moment forgot his recent bravado and looked at her with sympathy.
"Of course, Lady Parbelini."
When she left, accompanied by the servant, only Eileen and Cesare remained in the corridor.
Eileen stole a glance at Cesare and immediately met his eyes.
He too was looking at her.
With a slight smile, he asked:
"Shall we go see the plants?"
But Eileen whispered without enthusiasm: "Forgive me..."
It seemed she did nothing but apologize to him.
It would be good for her to be more confident in herself.
After meeting Ornella, her confidence had evaporated.
She was ready to sink through the floor.
Seeing her dejection and lack of reaction to the offer to see the plants, Cesare immediately understood the reason.
"It seems Ornella talked nonsense to you."
It wasn't nonsense.
Thanks to Ornella, Eileen had realized realities she hadn't thought about before.
Rather, she should have said thank you.
"Grand Duke..." Eileen asked uncertainly.
"Could you open the laboratory?"
At the mere thought of a dowry, it went dark before her eyes.
The previous almost-completed marriage to a foreign nobleman was another matter.
Then the groom paid money for the bride.
But now she was marrying the most eligible bachelor of the empire, whom everyone admired.
One couldn't just marry the flawless Cesare without making an effort.
One had to at least show one had tried.
She planned to sell the medicines from the laboratory, and then mortgage the expensive equipment to raise money.
If she hadn't bought the platinum pocket watch, she would have had more opportunities.
But she didn't regret that gift, which she had so wanted to give him.
*‘He'll forgive me if the dowry is a bit short, won't he?’*
After all, the marriage had been decided suddenly, and Cesare himself had insisted.
Perhaps he would look leniently on her modest efforts.
But even if she gathered a dowry, the question remained of how to hand it over.
Usually the bride's father handed it to the groom's father.
In Eileen and Cesare's case, Baron Elrod had to hand it personally to Grand Duke Erzet.
*‘But how can I trust my father?’*
The probability that he would pocket her hard-earned dowry was high.
Yes, he wouldn't dare take everything out of fear of Cesare, but a part—easily.
And the already modest sum could be halved.
The more she thought, the more hopeless the situation seemed.
Especially since very little time remained before the wedding.
*‘If Ornella were in my place, she wouldn't have to worry about this.’*
She envied Ornella with her reliable kin.
Trying not to be envious, Eileen waited for Cesare's answer.
Cesare for some reason was in no hurry to answer.
Eileen looked nervously at his lips.
Finally he spoke unhurriedly:
"I planned to open it after the wedding."
"Ah, well, I need it urgently..."
"Why urgently?"
"Customers are waiting.
There are sick people."
In truth, among the regular customers there were no urgent cases.
Except perhaps the watchmaker Luca, for whom she had pre-prepared headache medicine, as his supply was running out.
But in her haste, excuses poured out of their own accord.
"My medicines are quite good.
Some customers take only them.
They say others are less effective...
Ah, I'm not bragging.
Just relaying their words."
She diligently made excuses as if praying for sins, but Cesare listened without reaction.
When words failed, Eileen looked at him with entreaty.
"Still not possible?"
She asked so sincerely that she even folded her hands in a respectful plea.
Cesare looked at her silently, then suddenly frowned.
"Take off your glasses."
Not understanding why, she immediately took them off and clutched them in her hand.
Then he unexpectedly reached out and brushed away her bangs.
"Ah." Now nothing hindered their gazes.
In the clear field of vision before her was only Cesare.
Eileen held her breath.
Her chest rose slightly.
He slowly stroked her cheek.
When skin touched the leather glove, goosebumps ran over her body.
A chill ran down her spine.
Since childhood, Cesare had sometimes patted her head or cheek.
As if playing with a cute child.
But now it felt entirely different.
She remembered what those hands were capable of...
How they could touch the most intimate places, awakening a tremor and desire...
Remembering the night's events, Eileen involuntarily parted her lips.
As soon as the tip of her tongue appeared, Cesare kissed her.
He pulled her tongue into his mouth.
Chewing and teasing, he grabbed her waist when she jerked.
Firmly holding her in his arms, he explored the sensitive places in her mouth for a long time before letting go.
Eileen, breathing heavily, looked at him embarrassedly.
She didn't understand why he had suddenly kissed her.
"Why... what for..."
"Why can't you sing?" In front of the stammering Eileen, he ran his tongue over his lips and whispered: "But you're good at chattering."