The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 81

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Princess Wants to Live in a Pastry Shop
Chapter 81

“……Ah.”
Valery didn’t blink an eye. Maksim continued in a measured tone.
“Even that stubborn one’s learning what it means to have friends his own age, it seems.”
“Wasn’t it because of the Marquess of Tatarcha’s only daughter that he got it so badly? That girl takes after her mother—she’s no ordinary creature.”
Valery’s voice carried a private, venomous resentment. Maksim was also aware that one of Valery’s business ventures had suffered a heavy blow recently. It was an open secret that the Marquess of Tatarcha’s Wife had been behind it, but Maksim paid it no mind.
“Ha! That too. Though I must say it was rather amusing watching him get along with my cousin.”
“…….”
And for the first time, Valery flinched—a man who had only raised an eyebrow no matter what Maksim said.
‘Tch…….’
Internally, Maksim clicked his tongue.
His eldest brother Nicholas had been born with outstanding martial prowess and strength. He had even contracted with Paphnir, the Fire Spirit King, at age ten, captivating everyone’s attention. His youngest brother Yuriye had contracted with a spirit of no great distinction, yet had captured the Emperor’s attention through superior aptitude.
What gaze would fall upon the second and third sons who were neither this nor that, trapped between such brothers?
‘I would have preferred contempt.’
No one spared them a glance.
Maksim managed well enough regardless. Of course, it would be a lie to say he felt no disappointment at his father’s indifference. But his eldest brother, who had commanded great power and universal attention yet never won the Emperor’s favor, had died young, and his youngest brother, who had possessed the Emperor’s entire affection, had kicked it all away and abandoned Jedo.
And Maksim had come to dimly understand long before those brothers reached their fates that receiving others’ attention was not such a desirable thing. Perhaps because of this disposition, he had contracted with the Spirit of Discernment.
And after contracting with the Spirit of Discernment, he could distance himself from everything all the more cleanly. Because it became abundantly clear what was not his share.
But Valery was different.
“……Why don’t you at least hold a luncheon and introduce Ilya to some friends? Or gather some children his age and have them play the Kerem Game.”
The Kerem Game was a simple sport played on a table finished with soft cloth, where one struck an ivory ball with a stick, and was also a basic accomplishment of nobility.
“How could anyone take to someone so weak-hearted? It’s best he first puts his inner self in order,” Valery said coldly. Maksim tapped him on the shoulder in response.
“Children learn by watching others do it beside them. Don’t be so strict with your only son.”
“There’s no use being gentle if he’s good at nothing. I’d rather he be willful. Look at Dmitri.”
“Dmitri? That boy…….”
“See how spirited he is—what a pleasure to behold. Ilya is merely docile…….”
Maksim, about to laugh it off, stopped short.
‘What?’
So in the end, wasn’t Dmitri being called willful and dissolute? Maksim pressed the vein in his forehead and wiped away his smile.
“Ilya takes after you and is conscientious, isn’t he? They both have their strengths—don’t just find fault with everything.”
“…….”
This time, Valery slowly smoothed his brow. Well and good to call it conscientiousness, but it was no different from calling it timidity, and to say the two resembled each other……
Only after an unspoken ceasefire had been declared between them did Valery open his mouth again.
“Could Ilya even manage to host things properly? He ought to do what he can, whatever his age.”
“Invite Dmitri too. He’s your cousin—naturally he should help. Oh! Then we should invite Anastasia as well. That girl has such a warm heart. Didn’t she play with Dmitri at the Marquess of Tatarcha’s Wife’s tea party?”
Valery’s body went rigid for a moment before he loosened awkwardly.
“She’s the Imperial Heir the Mother Empress left behind in the Palace. How could I presume to summon her and send her away?”
“The House of Marquess of Tatarcha summoned her to attend them, so what can’t we do? Besides, we can—we certainly can. We share blood with that child, don’t we?”
“Does blood kinship exist merely because blood is shared?”
Maksim heard the cynicism in those words. He laughed heartily and clapped Valery hard on the back.
“Then blood kinship exists because blood is shared. What, you want to stitch it together with yarn? You do say the strangest things.”
Maksim rubbed his back over his shoulder, pretending not to notice Valery’s glare, and arbitrarily called his butler to arrange Ilya’s tea party schedule.
The butler, with a faint scar beneath his eye, looked to his master’s cue before finally nodding. Valery had given permission by waving his hand in exasperation.

Dmitri shot Ilya a look that said ‘I’d like nothing more than to punch this idiot,’ and Ilya flinched, already afraid.
“Hey! You’re the Imperial Heir of the empire—who would dare refuse your invitation?”
“Still…….”
Ilya, passive and frail, had always been pushed to the margins even among his peer Imperial Heirs.
The Emperor lavished all his attention on his cousin Alexei alone, and paid no mind to how his other grandsons fared. Ilya, who apologized the moment their eyes met, was an easy target for the other children to vent their frustrations on. Though Dmitri was not doing it deliberately, he generally treated Ilya roughly nonetheless.
‘It’s because Uncle is strange about it.’

If his son were being bullied, most fathers would say something or try to protect him. Dmitri had never done either. When Dmitri tried to shift blame onto someone else, Ilya muttered under his breath.
“I don’t even have friends. I’ve never been invited to other tea parties. Dmitri went to one at House of Marquess of Tatarcha just a little while ago, but…”
“No, it was Father who—”
Dmitri bit his tongue and swallowed the rest. The truth was that Maksim had forced his way into an invitation that was never intended for him, reasoning that since Natalya—the young lady of House of Marquess of Tatarcha—apparently enjoyed Ilya’s company, this aristocratic tea party might be preferable to others.
“Uncle Maksim…?”
Ilya tilted his head, confused. Dmitri waved his hand frantically. He had his pride; he could never bring himself to say such things aloud.
“Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind that anyway. Look, call… call Anastasia too.”
“But she stayed at the Imperial Palace.”
At that, Dmitri lowered his voice so that Maksim—his father—and Valery, his uncle, wouldn’t hear.
“So what? We’re all cousins anyway.”
“If we invite her without permission and His Majesty scolds her, what then?”
“That damned…”
Dmitri started to protest passionately, then suddenly deflated, his anger draining away.

Anastasia would tell him—would tell the Emperor, rather, for that’s what Dmitri called him—that Dmitri worried about her future prospects. Would the Emperor help somehow, then?

Anastasia called the Emperor grandfather. No other Imperial Heir had ever been given permission to use that name.
“He’ll make something work, surely.”
“Anastasia will?”
“Yes. So stop worrying uselessly. Even if no one else comes, there will still be three of us—you, me, and her.”
“You’ll come too?”
The moment Dmitri heard those words, he shoved Ilya hard, then immediately—irritated with himself—pulled the boy back to his feet. Ilya’s bewildered face stared up at Dmitri, but Dmitri pretended not to notice.

* * *

“Oh my, Your Highness. How beautiful!”
Lis’s eyes sparkled like stars. Asha herself felt a little awe as well.
“It wasn’t so long ago that we attended that tea party at House of Marquess of Tatarcha, yet they’ve sent three whole dresses.”
Before the two of them sat three flat, shallow boxes stacked atop one another—gifts sent by the Marquess of Tatarcha’s Wife in token of gratitude for Asha’s Strawberry Tart.
The first was a cape coat in navy with white vertical stripes, its edges embroidered with gold thread and its neckline adorned with a charming crimson silk ribbon.
The remaining two were summer dresses: one a pale Light Blue Dress made luxuriously full with layers of translucent chiffon, the other a sweet Cream Dress with puffed sleeves like balloons. All three were comfortable to move in yet elegant and beautiful to behold.
After trying on even the last Cream Dress, Asha understood what had happened. The Marquess’s Wife had surely wanted to dress Natalya in such clothes but had never quite dared to attempt it.
“The Marquess’s Wife must be a truly good mother.”
“Pardon?”
Lis tilted her head as she tied the ribbon at Asha’s back.
“Oh, nothing at all. I’ll wear this when I go to Ilya’s. Don’t you think?”
“Of course. It’s so elegant and lovely. As long as we match the shoes to the right color, it’ll be perfect.”
“Ah, no—the shoes I have should be fine.”
“Do you need new shoes, Asha?”
Asha spun around. Lis curtseyed and stepped back quickly. Alexei entered, still dressed in his uniform from work, his expression gentle and unhurried.
“Alexei!”
“Is that a dress I haven’t seen before?”
“The Marquess of Tatarcha’s Wife sent it as a gift. I made Strawberry Tarts for the tea party, and she sent these as thanks. Do they suit me?”
“Hmm.”
Alexei settled onto the sofa opposite the mirror and loosened the tie around his neck slightly.
“I can’t lose to the Marquess’s Wife.”
“What?”
“I thought I was the best at giving you the dress that suits you most. Yet these are truly beautiful.”
“Ha-ha. Ilya invited me to play the Kerem Game, so I was planning to wear this.”
Even as she said it, Asha felt she had made significant progress. In the past, she would never have dreamed of voluntarily visiting Valery’s residence out of concern about what misunderstandings Alexei and Kalno might harbor.
When Alexei heard her accept Ilya’s invitation, he studied her for a long moment as if considering something, then merely said she would need proper protection with her.
“So that’s what you meant about shoes. Since the Marquess’s Wife has given you such a splendid dress, I should provide the shoes myself.”
“Really, it’s fine.”
As Asha shot Alexei a look that wasn’t quite disapproving, the lantern near the full-length mirror suddenly flared bright.
“You foolish Asha! My contractor wants to give you a gift, so at least try to be happier about it!”
“Hey, you senseless salamander! Don’t boss our girl around!”
At the same moment, the yellow chick that had been lounging lazily against the side table launched itself into aggressive flight. Asha and Alexei both fell silent and turned to watch, but the spirits’ skirmish continued unabated.
“But, but still. Alexei finally had a moment to rest, and he came here to see Asha.”
“Of course he’d see our girl—that’s his rest!”
“How could that possibly be?!”
“You little wretch. Are you finished? A half-wit who can’t even speak to his own contractor?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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