This ti, the prince was bringing only his escort knights and administrative aides with him; there was no need for his personal attendants to follow.
Before Arlan climbed his carriage, he turned towards Oriana. "Till I return, I expect good progress with the work I gave you. Do not slack."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Oriana continued to look at the departing carriage even after it passed the gate of the Palace of Thistle. Sothing was different, she felt different. Even when he was cold to her, it didn’t feel bad but...she could not find the words to explain what she felt.
Upon returning inside the palace building, she went to have a morning al with the other servants. She greeted so of them by na.
As she started eating, she recalled her previous thoughts about her master.
’He works so hard and is always busy. Is he really the black sheep of the royal family? A good-for-nothing prince? That doesn’t seem to be the case. That perv—wait, what was his na again?’
Her eyes widened as she discovered sothing embarrassing.
’I can’t believe this. Why can’t I still rember his na?
’I know his butler’s na is Roman Chadwicke, his friend is Arthur Clarence, his most trusted knights are Rafal Ahren and Imbert Loyset, the forr primary attendant was Neil Lionheart and there’s also the other servants... I can even rember the nas of the Miltons, but the prince himself...A-sothing Cromwell?
’Aaron? Adam? Albert?
’Unbelievable! Ugh! This is so embarrassing! Stupid Ori! Stupid!’
Her face flushed in sha and she tried to cover up that fact by gulping down a glass of water.
’I should at least know the na of the one I am serving. I can’t let everyone know how ignorant I am, not knowing anything about the royal family. Asking one servant should be enough, right?’
After she finished the al, she started small talk with the servants around her, trying to find the chance to bait them into saying the prince’s na. When most started to leave the dining hall, she decided to ask the kitchen servant who yesterday praised for the incident with the Miltons.
"Jack, right?" She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the praise yesterday."
The manservant smiled. "You deserve it."
She nodded. "Umm, can I ask how long you have been working here?"
"Two years, I guess," he replied as he continued eating.
She pulled out a light smile. "It’s good to work here, isn’t it?"
He nodded while chewing the food in his mouth.
"His Highness treats us all well."
Jack nodded once again. "His Highness is neither arrogant nor cruel to his own people, like what we often hear about royals."
"Hmm, and his na is nice too, a na suitable for royalty," Oriana seemingly casually remarked. "Speaking of nas, did you know? My na ans ’sunrise’ in my holand’s language. Do you know the aning of His Highness’s na?"
It was a clever question. She waited for the servant to say the prince’s na in passing first, before explaining its aning, but Jack simply stared at her.
"We, lowly servants, should not say our master’s na so easily. No, in fact, it is considered disrespectful to anyone of royal birth. Do not make this mistake again, Orian. You are a re commoner. In the royal palace, unless you are a high noble, soone with authority or their personal confidante, speaking the na of royalty can be considered as undermining their prestige. I don’t want you to get punished for that."
’Huh? Can’t say his na casually? What the hell? Is he a sacred god or sothing?’
"Do you understand what I’m saying?" Jack asked, looking at her as if looking at his younger sibling and teaching him proper manners.
"Yes. I won’t do it again," she agreed. ’Damn, that ans no servant here will tell his na. If I have to ask Mister Roman, he will take for a fool for not knowing it.’
Disappointed, she went to the library and resud her assigned task. Yesterday, she read four books. This day, she aid to finish at least six. Noon passed by without her realizing. She didn’t co downstairs for her al as she was engrossed with books.
As soon as she closed her fifth book, her body could no longer bear it. Her stomach was protesting, her throat parched. She finally felt she worked too much and needed to stretch her legs, maybe even get so fresh air.
She glanced at the sun outside. It should be about two hours before sunset.
When she went downstairs, she saw servants talking among themselves in the foyer, their expressions filled with delight—the kind derived from another person’s misfortune. Oriana had often seen that expression from gossiping neighbors.
Curious, she went to them, and Neil welcod her with a smile and a pat on her shoulder.
"Our Little Lion, tell , are you a lucky lad or are you a star of misfortune?"
"What? Sothing happened?"
"What you did at the Miltons brought us bored people an interesting story to gossip about."
One of the administrative staff who was Neil’s relative began to explain, "It’s like this, earlier in front of His Majesty the King, the House of Milton is forced to pay three ore mines to compensate for their son’s cris."
The other servants reacted.
"What? But they only have five or six ore mines, if I rember correctly?"
"That’s half of their family’s wealth!"
"Poor Count Milton. Who knew, his son not only attempted to assault a noble lady, but it was also discovered his son also bribes officials from the Ministry of Finance and steals thirty percent of the taxes his household pays to the royal family."
Gasps of disbelief could be heard from those listening.
"To commit theft for years, stealing from the royal coffers? What a villain!"
"It’s already lenient His Majesty did not punish First Young Master Milton to death," the administrative aide said. "Still, he ought to be as good as dead anyway after this. He is penalized by disqualification from holding any official position and punished with imprisonnt for two years. His heir title is revoked, no family would allow their daughters to be engaged to him, and the social circles will all reject him from any gathering. Alas! His future is ruined!"
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