There was no end to the number of men willing to dance with the foreign high-ranking guest. Cornelia, tired of smiling, chatting, and dancing, finally took a break when Francisco invited the gentlemen to enjoy drinks and poker in the guest room. She found Dietrich, accompanied by a few high-ranking nobles and the king, discussing the series of recent earthquakes. The people in the capital had not faced any suffering - the floating cities had been unaffected by this natural disaster. However, the capitals could not accommodate everyone, so the populations in smaller towns and rural areas had to rebuild their houses and roads.

Noticing the princess, one of the servants approached her with a golden plate. She recognized the specific smell before he removed the decorated porcelain cover - the most expensive delicacy: Cracked cheese. Named for its texture with many cracks, it was served in tiny cubes to guests of exceptional importance only. Cornelia shook her head. The servant did not show any signs of disappointment, unlike Dietrich, who tried to persuade her to try. Facing a refusal, he exclaimed, "But the taste is simply heavenly."

"Till you know how it's made," the girl replied, sending off the servant. It was never easy to deal with cheese addicts. To confirm her thoughts, one of the men snorted: "Oh please, you can say that about a lot of food."

She didn't want to argue, but unexpectedly the king came to her rescue: "Loli isn't fond of this cheese either. So I abstain from it as well. But honestly, it's a matter of personal taste."

Before Dietrich could add anything, the princess walked away, returning to the corner where she had left her new pet only to find that no one was there. She looked around but the father's spy had disappeared. The waiter, whom she had asked, reported that the young man had gone to get some fresh air on the balcony. Her heart clenched with fear at these words spoken in a friendly tone.

'No, not this time too,' Cornelia rushed towards the direction the waiter had pointed. He could not receive such instructions in advance, as the father could not predict this turn of events, but he was still the king's man. The sound of her heartbeat drowned out the music and conversation. She opened the glass door and stepped outside the hall.

The young man was sitting on a bench. A kitten curled up on his knee slept soundly. Fear stepped back as soon as she noticed how the animal's side was rising and falling with every breath. She closed the door and approached the bench. Sieg lowered his head and muttered, "I'm sorry. It was too loud and crowded, she was nervous. I should have notified you, Your Highness."

he guilty look on his face, as if he had committed a kidnapping, calmed Cornelia's boiling feelings before she had a chance to voice them. The princess sat down beside him. The kitten's ear twitched, yet it continued to sleep.

"No, it's fine. I didn't think about it. These surroundings are indeed uncomfortable for such a youngling."

It wasn't hard to notice how he was still tense and stealing glances at her. Her behavior could indeed look abnormal: rushing through the ballroom in search of a newly gifted pet, throwing aside the refined etiquette.

"I'm sorry, I overreacted and startled you. I was reminded of an accident that happened a long time ago when I brought a stray cat into the palace. My maid and I washed and fed it. We were waiting for the vet to arrive, but instead, my father walked into the room. He was as calm and reserved as always, so when he approached, I thought he wanted to see the cat. However, he said I had to get his permission before making any decisions. Then he took the cat and threw it out the window. To him, it was such a trivial matter..."

Cornelia put her hand on the kitten's head. The animal continued to sleep, only its whiskers twitched. "I know that serving the king doesn't make you the same as him. So, please accept my apologies for doubting you."

"Your Highness doesn't need to apologize. I have no illusions about what kind of person the king is."

"Then why do you serve him? Is it for money?"

"It's complicated."

A simple reply sounded like it had a long story behind it, but Cornelia decided not to press the issue. There were too many people in need in Castro's kingdom, with little choice left. Instead, she changed the topic.

"You know a lot about cats. Do you have one?"

"We had one in the barracks where I live. It was a stray black tomcat that stayed with our squad, so we took care of him in turns. We called him Set."

"Not the most obvious name."

No, I guess not." Sieg asked after a short pause: "Will this one be alright?"

"Yes, unlike the other stray cat, this one is a royal gift. Harming her would mean an offense to Fuego. The king would not risk international relations for a pet. I think that it was Aunt Margaret's idea - there was a collar with the Ortega crest in the box. Later, I'll need to thank her."

A kitten finally raised its head and drowsily looked around. When Cornelia gently petted the animal's cheeks and neck, the kitten started to purr. A sudden burst of laughter coming from the ballroom made the pet stop for a moment. When it calmed down, the kitten returned to sleep. Sieg glanced at the ballroom through the glass windows. They could see the king and queen dancing. 'If it was the Castro Palace, the royal pair would only do one dance,' thought Cornelia, removing her hand and letting the pet fall into a slumber.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"They are good people," said Sieg.

"You think so? Don't you suspect that it's all just a facade?"

The guy took a moment to think about her words, then replied: "No. They genuinely love and support each other. Do you think otherwise, Your Highness?"

Now Cornelia went silent. Confessing her negative thoughts was difficult. When she had done so before, Dietrich had laughed it off or tried to persuade her. Finally, the girl sighed.

"I think you may be right. But I'm so used to lies and superficial relationships that, when I face real ones, I think they're fake and want to find out what's wrong with these people. That way of thinking says a lot about me and upsets me."

She was ready to face awkward silence or a polite refutation, but instead, Sieg calmly said, "I don't have a lot of positive examples either. But your Highness is not bound to only follow familiar examples, whether in politics or personal relationships. I believe a headstrong person like your Highness can break the imposed boundaries."

"Thank you," said Cornelia, taken aback by his unusual talkativeness.

It was already midnight, but by the looks of it, the celebration was going to last until morning. The pleasant sea breeze reached the city, and the smell of salt mixed with the flowery scent in the air. It was nice to sit quietly, but she had already neglected her pet's needs once.

"Now, I think it would be a good idea to find some clean water for her," said Cornelia, referring to the kitten. She stood up and added, "I'll be back in a minute."

The time Cornelia spent at Ortega's mansion flew in an instant. Invites to all kinds of events, from hunting to picnic parties at the base of White Folded Cliffs, came without stopping. The Grand Duchess attended only those events that could provide a suitable match for her niece and adjusted her glasses expressively each time Cornelia selected a gathering based on its political or business connections. As her late husband had once said, "the desire for dramatic gestures runs in Margaret's blood."

Finally, the day of departure arrived. The carriages and horses were prepared; the Berg Knight carefully inspected everything. Cornelia left the house, with the kitten cautiously following her. A black vest harness matched the animal's feet.

"Aren't you going to put it in a carrier? You are using a cat's breast-band quite often lately," Dietrich asked, watching the princess walk her pet.

"Yes, I want to get used to walking and the change of scenery, so Sieg advised this."

"I see," the knight responded coldly. "Anyway, you will be busy when we return, so I guess the maids will look after the cat."

Cornelia helped the kitten onto the seat, but she gently held it when the curious pet wanted to jump at the carriage's thin window.

"Her name is Isis, and no, I'll look after her myself."

"Weird name," said Dietrich, and changed the topic instantly. "But where is her grace? I thought she would see us off."

Petting the kitten, Cornelia decided to let his first remark slip.

"No, Aunt Margaret hates long partings. We already said goodbye after breakfast." Looking a bit upset, the young knight nodded. 'They certainly found a common language.'

Noticing that Dietrich was still looking around, Cornelia asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious," the knight replied, observing how the servants were rechecking the loaded bags and chests.

"Will the rest of the luggage be sent separately?"

"No, that's all we're taking back."

"Strange. I thought you brought quite a few chests full of dresses." While he was looking out the window, Cornelia watched the kitten start to wash its face with its tiny paw. Cornelia scratched the back of the pet's ear and replied: "Yes, I did. I sold them."

Dietrich turned his face away from the window and looked at the princess with disbelief.

"Pardon? I think I misheard the last part."

"I sold the dresses and jewelry. It was a good deal, better than I expected."

Dietrich looked at the princess for a moment then slowly his expression changed, and the knight groaned.

"Your Highness, you can't do this!" A loud and sudden voice made Isis freeze for a moment. Then, the white kitten started to wag its tail. The girl gently stroked the back of its neck, calming Isis down. Her reproachful gaze made the knight regain his composure.

"I already did. And I believe I have the right to do anything with my property. Believe me, I still have more than enough for official events."

"But still, it's your wardrobe," almost cried the guy. "You could ask for money anytime."

"It’s not my money. I couldn't get the required amount, and I don't want to beg for it either. If you are going to make a fuss about such trivial things, the road will feel more tiresome than it should be."