The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 97

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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 Villainous Imperial Princess Wants to Live in a Pastry Shop
Chapter 97

“What is this?”
“Please, open it quickly. I prepared it with such care—I do hope you like it. Though you might not, of course…….”
“Nonsense.”
The Emperor clicked his tongue at Asha’s final mumbled addition, then peeled back the linen cloth with a hearty flourish.
“This is…….”
What revealed itself first was a frame of rather understated design—a metal frame in nearly black, its simple patterns etched with clean precision. And when the portrait within came into view.
The Emperor’s eyes widened in astonishment.
On the canvas, a portrait of the Emperor rendered with vivid, lifelike brilliance showed him as he must have appeared years before. He was bent slightly over a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every detail was rendered with exquisite precision: the fine creases of aging skin, the golden hair touched with silver, even the texture of the paper in the book he held.
Soft, diffused light filtered through the study’s curtains, defining the contours of his shirt, while his arm seemed poised to turn the next page.
It was nothing short of miraculous. The Emperor alternated his gaze between this testament to extraordinary talent and Asha herself, then noticed a signature in the lower right corner of the frame and narrowed his eyes.
“Surely not…….”
As the Emperor read through the signature letter by letter, he leaped from his seat the moment he reached the final character.
“……Don’t tell me this portrait was painted by Miura Ailau?”
Asha nodded with an expression of quiet pride. At that same instant, the banquet hall erupted into chaos.
“A portrait of Your Majesty painted by Miura Ailau?”
“Miura’s newest work, now?”
“The Imperial Heir gave His Majesty one of Miura’s pieces as a gift?”
It was a cacophony—like overturning a basket of grain all at once. Asha flinched and turned to look back, but the commotion showed no sign of dying down.
“……How did you come by a painting from Miura Ailau? That person…….”
“Miura and I are pen friends, actually. We get along quite well. When she mentioned she was troubled over what gift to give Grandfather for his birthday, she painted this for me.”
At Asha’s innocent words, a great stir swept through the crowd. The Emperor looked between the portrait and Asha in turns, then laughed aloud.
“You have quite the talent.”
“But I didn’t paint it—Miura did…….”
“That brilliantly talented painter hadn’t taken up a brush again until now. No one had managed to convince her to do so. Yet you accomplished it.”
Asha wanted to protest that she couldn’t take credit for that, but between the steadily mounting fervor of the nobles and the Emperor’s admiration, she lost the opportunity to speak. After gazing at the painting a good while longer, the Emperor finally gathered himself, his expression suffused with quiet satisfaction, and looked at Asha.
“I cannot simply accept something like this. Tell me your wish, and I shall grant you one.”
Then, looking down at the nobles who seemed ready to cry out in their eagerness to see the portrait, the Emperor had the painting displayed in one corner of the banquet hall.
As it happened, the orchestra occupied that very space, so the musicians found themselves rather squeezed in as the crowd surged toward the painting.

* * *

Dmitri stood stiffly, forcing down a somewhat dejected expression. His father Maksim, though the gift Dmitri had prepared had become mere decoration, showed no sign of disappointment and laughed merrily as he clinked wine glasses with those around him.
‘……The Emperor.’
Dmitri knew well enough that the Emperor paid him little attention, nor his father either. He thought he could accept that now. He had never made a contract with the Spirit King, and his father had never harbored such ambitions from the start.
And as for Anastasia, who alone among the Imperial Heirs besides Alexei had remained in the Imperial Palace…….
When it came to that cousin, Dmitri thought he simply couldn’t accept it, but truthfully, somewhere in his heart he had come to acknowledge her.
He had encountered that girl the day he left the Imperial Palace. He’d vented his anger without restraint, saying things best left unsaid, and only after returning home did he realize the full weight of his regret. How many nights had he lost sleep over it?
What if the girl had reported him to the Emperor? What if the Emperor grew angry and decided to punish him? Such thoughts had tormented Dmitri for days. He’d missed the victory ball that followed because of it.
But no ill news came from the Imperial Palace, and the girl seemed to have forgotten about Dmitri entirely—until they met again at the tea party at Marquis Tataricha’s Residence. And even then, she was no different. She teased him, laughed at him, fed him sweets.
This girl, left alone in the Imperial Palace without father or mother, showed not a shred of fear. The Emperor, the Imperial Heir, the watchful eyes of others—none of it seemed to frighten her.
When she said she knew full well what people would whisper, yet she still wanted to play in the kitchen, so that’s where she would bake sweets and spend her time—Dmitri hadn’t told her directly, but he’d thought her magnificent.
And he’d hoped that this girl would never fall prey to idle gossip or receive reproach from the Emperor. After all, wasn’t she separated from her parents, left alone in the Imperial Palace? How could such a girl ever hope to prepare a gift worthy of the Emperor’s approval?
His own father had summoned several seamstresses and procured expensive cloth to have a coat made. Seeing the girl standing empty-handed and awkward, his eyes kept returning to her, and so he’d reluctantly given her the brooch he’d originally meant to present to the Emperor.
But the girl hadn’t needed such a sacrifice from him at all. And that fact weighed somewhat heavily on Dmitri.
“Prince Dmitri.”
“……?”
Because he’d made himself stand apart from his peers, few of them approached him with conversation. Not in the mood to eat anything, he’d simply been standing there dumbly when an unfamiliar chamberlain spoke to him quietly.
“His Majesty wishes to see you for a moment. This way, please.”
The chamberlain guided him toward a separate space prepared within the banquet hall. Dmitri cast glances around him as he went.
When the chamberlain lifted the curtain lightly, there sat the Emperor, his formal coat removed, leaning back in a chair. On the small table beside him lay a warm beverage and a velvet box.
Dmitri caught sight of the velvet box he’d given to the girl, then quickly bowed in respect.
“Your… Your Majesty. I am honored.”
“Dmitri, are you enjoying the banquet?”
“Yes, yes!”
Dmitri answered with sharp attention, while the Emperor placed his hand on the velvet box with an expressionless face.
“It doesn’t seem to entertain you much. Your father enjoys meeting people—you haven’t inherited that trait from him?”
“Oh, no, sire. It’s entertaining.”
“Is that so?”
The Emperor tilted his head at Dmitri’s response, then broached the real matter.
“Asha mentioned it just now. You gave this to her?”
‘Asha….’
His cousin’s name was Anastasia, but the Emperor seemed to call her Asha. Dmitri did his best to hide his dejected expression.
“Well… yes, I did give it to her, but….”
He couldn’t tell what the young princess had said to the Emperor, so answering was difficult.
“She worried that you might be scolded for not preparing a proper gift for her.”
“……!”
Astonished that she’d revealed even that, Dmitri felt a pang of resentment—until the Emperor opened the velvet box, examined the brooch inside, and broke into a faint smile.
“Do you see me as such a heartless grandfather?”
“No, sire! Not at all! I just… it wasn’t like that. I only….”
He nearly said the same thing he’d told the young princess—’I just gave it because I didn’t need it!’—but barely managed to bite his tongue. The Emperor looked at Dmitri as if reading his every thought and continued.
“Asha was relentless about it. She said you were trying to help her.”
“Ah….”
“To yield your own possession for your cousin’s sake—such magnanimity. I shall give you a reward. Tell me what you wish for.”
Dmitri’s eyes flew wide open at these words.

* * *

‘Good heavens.’
How had things come to this?
Asha surveyed the Carrom Game table tucked behind the curtain in a corner of the reception hall—taking in at a glance Maksim, who gazed at it with keen interest; Yekaterina, whose expression betrayed quiet delight; Dmitri, who looked positively ill; and Kalno, who was heaving a sigh.
Alexei stood beside Kalno with a gentle expression. Yekaterina took a cue from an attendant and smiled with benevolent grace.
“I pestered them to prepare for a Carrom Game—I do hope it hasn’t inconvenienced the Imperial Heir?”
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant at all….”
Seeing Yekaterina speak so pitifully with her weathered face, Kalno narrowed his eyes briefly, then approached Asha.
“Imperial Heir, there’s no need to go to such trouble for my grandmother.”
“I beg your forgiveness, Imperial Heir, for my grandson’s presumptuous manner of speech.”
With both of them speaking in succession, the burden doubled. Maksim, who had happened upon this gathering, looked as though he were having the time of his life.
When Dmitri returned after a brief absence, he had arrived with a flushed, elated face—but the moment he caught sight of the Carrom Game table and Asha, his expression crumpled entirely.
“I… I shall withdraw.”
“Why, my boy? Don’t you like Carrom?”
“I’ve sworn never to play Carrom with her for as long as I live.”
Dmitri whispered this with a sour expression and shook his head vehemently. While Maksim replied with reluctance, the Emperor himself appeared, dressed in a casual shirt.
“Don’t tell me you’ve already started?”
“Your Majesty, you’ve come at last.”
Yekaterina clicked her tongue and greeted the Emperor. He regarded her with displeasure, then turned his gaze to Alexei.
“What are you doing here? You should be outside, attending to the guests.”
“Today is a celebration of Grandmother’s birthday—surely Grandmother should be the one greeting them outside.”
Alexei smiled submissively yet held his ground. The Emperor’s brow furrowed.
“It’s my birthday—must I not have rest?”
“But the guests have come to celebrate Grandmother’s birth. Wouldn’t it be neglectful to abandon them?”
Asha, who had been watching the two of them face off, quickly extended cues to both.
“Then whoever loses goes to greet the guests.”
“What did you say?”
“Whoever loses plays host to the guests, and by tomorrow, the winner receives a handwritten letter from me.”
Asha pressed forward with resolve, determined to reduce the number at the table by at least one. She thrust cues into the hands of the Emperor and the Imperial Heir, then pushed the table forward—while Dmitri watched with an expression of utter dismay.
When the Emperor and Alexei finally began their Carrom Game, wagering over who would be sent to entertain the guests, Kalno approached Asha’s side.

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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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