Now both Emma and Marie were looking at me like I've sprouted another head.
I backtrack a little bit. "I mean... I don't want you to tell the Empress I don't like the dresses. Because then she will be sad and I don't like making people sad."
I pout for good measure and Marie's face softens at my cuteness.
"Oh your highness, you are too kind! A saint of a child!" she crows happily. I'm the furthest thing from a saint, but Marie is patting my chubby cheeks lovingly so I soak up all the affection. Emma just stares incredulously at the scene, also doubting my status as a holy figure. But Marie calling me a saint reminds me how important the Spring Ball will be for me to claim my status as the promised child the Holy Church prophesized would bring great fortune to the Empire.
