[Music Recommendation: Für Elise (Reimagined) ~ Alexander Joseph]

"Get the boiled potatoes, and also fix up more drinks for them," Oriana ordered the maids that were helping her, then she went to help Louis cook the stew. The kitchen was bustling with maids going in and out of the room with trays filled with food.

Louis stopped stirring the stew and turned to Oriana. "Your Majesty, you don’t need to stay here; the smoke will affect your eyes," the man remarked, worried about the girl. Though she was now queen, she didn’t hesitate to offer help like she had always done in the past.

Oriana smiled. "Louis, get on with stirring the stew while I dry the beef and get it salted for them," she said, raising her gown, which gathered the dust on the kitchen floor as she looked around the kitchen for the beef.

"Are you looking for this?" Freya raised the tray of beef, using it to hide her face, then she slowly brought it down.

"Freya!! Where have you been?" Oriana touched the girl’s shoulder. "You look thinner than the last time I saw you. Did anything happen?"

Louis heard his daughter’s name and stopped what he was doing. Everyone had been keeping an eye out for her and hadn’t seen her. He was also worried about his daughter but decided to look for her after he was done cooking.

"Freya, where have you been? Are you okay, dear?" Louis touched his daughter’s face. "Were you sick? Do you want me to make your favorite food?"

Freya smiled, shaking her head gently. After what happened last night, she was so scared that she had decided to stay alone in her room for some time. The life in the palace was still very new to her. It was too rough, and it wasn’t something she was used to. Being used as bait reminded her of the first time she came to the palace and was almost made a consort for one of the ministers. The horrible memory made her want to stay alone for some time, but she didn’t mean to worry anyone, especially her father.

"I’m fine, Pa. Your food," she pointed.

Louis clapped his hands. "Yes! That’s true," he ran back to where he was cooking, leaving behind Oriana and Freya.

Oriana chuckled; she couldn’t get enough of Freya’s lovely relationship with her father. "He was just worried about you. I was too." She paused, holding the girl’s hand. "Freya, if you ever need something, let me know, or if something troubles you, also let me know, okay? I have more power now that I’m queen."

Freya hummed. "Then can I have access to the royal library? I heard there are so many books there; I really want to read them!"

"You don’t need to ask. You can go there anytime and let them know I asked you to use it," Oriana said, taking the tray of beef from the girl. "But right now, we need more hands in making food for our soldiers. Come, come." She tugged the girl’s hand.

Louis stopped stirring and turned to see his daughter and the young princess, now crowned queen, smiling happily like they were sisters. It was a warm sight to behold. He shouted, "Freya! Your uncle Malcolm is here too; we will be going to greet him soon."

"Really? Uncle Malcolm is here? I can’t wait to see him," Freya smiled, helping Oriana salt the beef.

Outside the palace where the soldiers had mounted their camp, Madame Rosalie stood with a frown on her face. She took out her pipe and lighted it, puffing out smoke before she said to the girl in front of her, "What do you mean he sent you away? Do you not know how to please a man anymore?"

The young girl bowed. "Madame, I do know, but he didn’t even wait to see my skills, and he asked me to leave. I was so embarrassed. This is the first time any man has ever rejected me," the girl huffed.

Madame Rosalie smoked the pipe in her hand and exhaled. This was the second girl she was sending, and this was also the same complaint she got from the first. The girl in front of her was one of her most beautiful workers in her crew, with her skin smooth and her womanly curves perfectly shaped to fit her body. Even as she was standing, other soldiers were already ogling her. To think that she had been rejected by the general made Madame Rosalie annoyed.

"Madame, please let me serve others so I can get paid. That general won’t touch me even if I tried," the young girl pleaded.

Madame Rosalie nodded. "Go ahead, I will handle him. You’ve done well," she patted the girl on her shoulder.

The girl smiled. Before she turned, she said to the woman, "Actually, I heard that he might be interested in men. That’s the reason he rejects us."

"Hmm..." Madame Rosalie decided to go inside and meet the general herself. She was sure she had seen him somewhere. Raising her gown gently, she walked to the tent that was set aside for the general. She pushed the cover aside, bending a little before she entered.

Malcolm raised his face. When he saw the woman he had seen a few days ago in an inn, he dropped the parchment he was reading and smiled at her. It was a friendly smile. "I didn’t know I’d be seeing you here."

"I knew it! You’ve been to my inn, right? Why are you lying to everyone that you have never touched a woman? I mean, I must say your lies are very believable," Madame Rosalie chuckled, using her hand to cover her mouth. Then she raised the pipe to her mouth.

Malcolm frowned. "What are you talking about? Do you not remember seeing me in that inn? It was raining that day, and I had bumped into you. Have we met before that day? I mean, I wouldn’t forget if I’d seen someone like you."

The pipe in Madame Rosalie’s hand fell to the ground. She finally remembered where she had met the man, but the tone he used in speaking to her was very condescending, and she didn’t like it. "What do you mean when you say ’someone like me’?"

Malcolm chuckled, crossing his leg over the other. "I didn’t mean anything. By the way, if you didn’t come to say hi, what are you here for?"

Rosalie exhaled deeply. "My girls are complaining that you don’t pay attention to them. I guess I know why now. You’re not man enough. But then, even if you’re not interested in women, you should at least know how to treat them."

Malcolm raised his brows. Standing up from his chair, he started walking towards Madame Rosalie. Each step he took forward, the woman took back. "Who said I’m not interested in women? I am very much interested in them. As a matter of fact, I appreciate them. I’m just not interested in your girls or you."

Madame Rosalie bit her lips. Her pride had been hurt so much, but there was nothing she could do about it. Ever since she went into this business, no man had ever told her that he was not interested in her. The opposite was always the case. She had always been the heartthrob of every man, and most of her customers were men who adored her.

"So, keep yourself and your girls out of my tent, understood?" Malcolm opened the tent cover, moving his head to the side as if telling Madame Rosalie to leave. Without saying a word, Madame Rosalie quietly left the tent with a bruised ego.