When the Mad Emperor Suddenly Becomes Sweet - Chapter 124

“Miss De Bua, you must concentrate,” said Francesca as she looked at her embroidery. She couldn’t help but think that this was a disaster. Embroidery required a level of precision and attention to detail that she did not possess. Flowers and butterflies were carefully etched into a fine piece of cloth about the size of her palm. Her fingers were almost too tight to hold it. It would be preferable to re-learn how to arrange flowers and greet people. Freya frowned and slid a leather strap onto the back of her hand.

“You mustn’t make such inane noises,” she scolded herself.

As she sat on the chair across the room, Freya watched Francesca, who was holding a teacup after putting down the embroidery frame for a while. Her posture, expression, and tea-drinking manners appeared flawless. She looked as if she had stepped out of an etiquette book, but Freya had the impression that her heart would be cold as well.

If someone were to ask, “Would you rather have such perfect elegance or live like me, who lacks a lot?” the answer would be obvious. The yawning was bearable when she yawned while looking at Francesca, who was sitting alone.

“Oh, and Lottie,” Freya thought of the child who resembled Lottie and was mopping the stairs and floors. The child’s skin was pale, even in this ideal environment where people could fall ill. Both her body and mind were affected. She did not realize it until she left, but Freya and Lottie’s apartment was worse than the gutter. The gutter rats had complete freedom and received nothing. Freya had to work all the time while wearing rags and eating thin porridge. It was then reduced to a method of summoning Shylo’s property.

“Why hadn’t I thought of bringing her sooner?” Freya reflected on her belated regret for not bringing Lottie with her earlier. She quickly forgot about it and concentrated on figuring out the best way to get Lottie.

“I’m finished, Mrs. Francesca,” Freya said as she completed her embroidery. Her hands were a little shaky, but she managed to get past Francesca’s tricky eyes. She returned to the room and quickly tidied up the threads on her dress. She checked herself in the mirror several times, nervous for no apparent reason.

“Are you going to meet His Majesty?” asked Miriam, her cheeks flushing, as she braided Freya’s hair in half.

“No, today Count Diverto invited me,” Freya replied.

“Oh, if the count is…” Miriam said, her eyes wide with excitement. Count Diverto was a big hit during the US-China years.

“He is also nice to coworkers like us,” Freya said, figuring out why she was drawn to him when they first met. The kindness in the count’s demeanor seemed to have caught her attention.

“Miriam, don’t you think it’s time to get your hair done?” Freya suggested, standing up and gently pushing her friend into a chair.

“Can’t I just do it myself? It’s not like anyone else will see it,” Miriam protested.

Freya chuckled. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And Bell can help us out,” she said, beckoning her maid over.

After some coaxing, Miriam eventually relented, and the three of them had a good laugh as they played with each other’s hair. As they finished up, a carriage arrived to take Freya to the Diverto family’s house.

“Miriam, Bell, keep an eye on me in case I embarrass myself,” Freya joked as she headed out.

Despite being engaged to the crown prince, Freya was still new to the world of nobility, and she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as the carriage took her to the count’s house. She knew that most other aristocrats had grown up with each other, attending countless banquets and forming lifelong friendships. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had accepted the invitation too hastily.

As she arrived at the house, she was greeted by Count Diverto, who welcomed her warmly. The large, old-fashioned building immediately caught her attention, with its walls covered in ivy vines and tulips growing in the garden. The count asked if she wanted some tea or if she’d like to take a tour of the house, and Freya opted for the latter.

Viscount Gabriel offered to show her around, and as they walked through the centuries-old structure, Freya couldn’t help but admire its age and history. She was struck by the feeling that this was something that money couldn’t buy.

As they made their way through the house, they came across portraits of Diverto’s ancestors. Gabriel pointed to one of them and said, “I’m the First Earl of Diverto.”

Freya was impressed. “Wow, that’s incredible,” she said.

Looking at the portrait, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the harmonious family depicted in the painting.

“Does it feel like having a mother and a father?” she wondered aloud, gazing at the warm, loving gaze of the mother on her newborn baby.