"... who the hell was that voice?
After the meal, Meer moved to the salon in the air garden.
When I say aerial gardens, I'm not really floating. It's built on the roof of the White Moon Palace, a little stretched out.
The garden, which was built by collecting various beautiful grass flowers from within the country, was such a stunning place that it was not embarrassing to invite royalty from other countries.
Moya Moya in Meer's head didn't clear up when she often walked around the garden and said she enjoyed the scent of beautiful flowers.
There seems to be something I really need to remind you of...... but its important memory seems to be on the other side of the fog veil...... no matter how much I reached it never reached it.
"... Again, this isn't sweet enough. This, maid! Somebody get me something sweet."
To serve the snack she had missed earlier, Meer pampered, slapping her hand all the way.
Often moved to the table seats provided at the corner of the garden to wait. I saw a young maid coming soon.
When she saw what she was carrying, Meer's eyes opened wide.
- Oh, that, no way!
It was a cake. A short cake with plenty of cream, plenty of morning picked strawberries on the top, nothing weird......, but......
- Fuck, fuck, eat cake, it's been too long!
Of course since he was captured and put in jail, where the Empire's finances have deteriorated, it has not been a cake or other eatable situation already.
Nature, cane, and body dance.
Right in front of Meer like that......,
"Oh, thank you for waiting, come on!
The maid flew! Of course, cake together......
Pokan, and the cake that slowly crosses in front of Meer who opens her mouth, and the maid...... Nothing stops it......
Becha......!
Cake that crashes onto the floor and peppers unbroken. A catastrophe in which a maid falls on top of it and squashes it by the time it's completely skinless!
Meer...... I lose my word.
"Hey, Anne, what are you doing!
The older maids, who were watching a series of disturbances, run bumpy.
"Dear Meer, I'm sorry. Are you hurt?
He was shocked and grumpy Meer, but soon regained his sanity and smiled.
"Yeah, no problem. Thanks."
Originally, I would like to fly even one of the cursing words.
Now, perhaps if it had been the previous Meer, it would have done so.
Having experienced life in a hard prison though, Meer had become deeper than a cake dish and had a wider heart about a teacup.
To translate, that is, even if it was not far from the crowd, patience to such an extent that it was not called a critical selfish daughter was beginning to converge.
This could be described as a major growth.
Yes, people grow up.
Even if that was a slower walk than a turtle..., no, snail.
Meer is growing!
So even now, with a grin drawn to my mouth,
"The cake is a good story if you bring me something new."
Yeah, you just put in a follow up.
"Is your girlfriend better than that?
I can even show you room to care for a fallen maid.
Yes, in any case, all you have to do is prepare something to replace the cake, so whatever the problem is...,
"Dear Meer, I'm sorry. Actually, I only got that cake of the day..."
"Damn it! Be right there!
It was beautiful! It was a moment.
In front of what they ruined the cake, such as Meer's generosity, it's only about dead leaves that fly if you blow them.
The cake is great!
Especially the first cake I've eaten in years is an easy blow to reason.
"Wow, give me my cake so much... oh my god, give me your face!
"Hih!
Gradually, Meer flutters her legs. The young maid, who looked frightened, turned her face to Meer with a squeaky trick.
It was the face of a mid-teenage girl, older than Meer, who showed up.
Raw cream all over red hair, thin shavings on the tip of the nose, thin, teary blue, round eyes......
He had a more sticky face like he was cute than beautiful. Even so, it's not as dirty as you'd see at a dance party. In one way or another, she is a simple girl with a look such as a village daughter in the countryside.
"... you are"
When I saw that face, behind Meer's brain, a sight came back to life.
It's the memory of the worst day of her life, the memory of the day of her execution.
One in the dungeon, waiting for 'then' to come, that was the time.