I opened the window to let some air into the room. After what I just heard, I was definitely feeling stuffy and I needed to get myself together. 'Why would I want to have dinner with the emperor?' I asked, but I meant it as a rhetorical question. I knew the answer to that already: because scullery maids don't eat together with monarchs, that's why.
"You've never treated me like an emperor, so don't start now," Alessandro said, hurt that she was intentionally bringing up their ranks to put some distance to them.
'Because I didn't know you were the emperor, then!' I retorted, huffing. 'But now I do.'
"Forget about that," Alessandro replied. "It doesn't matter to me."
'Well, it bothers me.' I couldn't help but point out that glaring truth.
Alessandro paused. While they were on the topic, he'd been meaning to ask her something. "Does it bother you that Caio is the archduke?" From what he had witnessed at the ball, it certainly didn't seem like Caio's social status affected her negatively, and it irked Alessandro that she would put him on the other end of the spectrum.
'Caio's different,' I replied, almost without thinking. Of course I was aware that he was the archduke, and I knew that the gap in our social standing was as wide as the Pacific Ocean. But I had known about that fact almost right after I met him, so I was used to it by now, and it was something that I merely took as a given.
Alessandro scoffed, almost affronted. "He's the second most influential person in Luxentfort after me!" Alessandro said. "What makes him so different?"
'He didn't keep his identity a secret from me,' I answered quietly. 'So I've had plenty of time to get used to it.'
Alessandro didn't have a rebuttal for that. 'You're right,' he sighed. "It won't happen again."
I smiled. He was talking to me like he always did, and it made feel at ease.
"Now that we've cleared the air," he continued, "can we have dinner already?"
I hesitated. 'But –'
"It will be just the two of us," Alessandro cut in before she could properly form a protest. "Nothing fancy, I promise."
'If you say so,' I laughed, not even trying to hide my amusement. An emperor saying that is like an extremely wealthy person saying they're not really rich.
*****
Alessandro flung the door wide open as soon as he got to his quarters, and started taking off his jacket. He wanted to change into something more casual for his dinner with 20.
"Welcome back, Your Majesty," Rocco said.
"Prepare a dinner for two." Alessandro paused on his way to the bedroom so he could issue instructions to his butler first.
"For two, Your Majesty?" Rocco asked curiously. "For you and..?" Apart from his small circle of close friends, the emperor rarely invited anyone to eat with him, and certainly not in his private quarters.
"Concubine Number 20."
"Concubine Number 20?" Rocco gaped at him. "Do you mean the scullery maid, Sire?"
"Yes," Alessandro confirmed. "And make sure there's bread pudding for dessert."
Rocco was not only shocked – he was absolutely flabbergasted. The emperor had only talked to the servants long enough to give orders, and that's usually accomplished in as few words as possible. He should know – he had been with the emperor for several years, but Alessandro had never even invited him for a glass of wine.
"What are you waiting for?" Alessandro asked as he saw his butler remained unmoving in the middle of the sitting room, like he had just turned into a statue.
Rocco tried to snap himself out of his daze. "I'll get it ready right away, Your Majesty," he bowed.
I took a deep breath as I stood outside the elaborate double doors leading to the emperor's private quarters. It seemed that 1 had already given orders, because the guards let me in without any questions asked, although they did look at me with barely contained puzzled expressions. I couldn't blame them – I also didn't know what I was doing there.
As I was walking the long, long way to 1's room, I had realized that he probably had no idea I couldn't actually talk. I brought along my writing set as I always did. Well, now he was bound to know. I didn't see any reason to hide it. I was proud that I could communicate quite well even without my voice. I let out the breath I was holding and knocked. Almost immediately, the door opened.
"Come in, 20." Alessandro said, ushering her in. Earlier he had dismissed everyone from his rooms, including Rocco. This was why he was the one who opened the door himself. He wanted to make 20 as comfortable as possible.
I smiled as I walked in. 'Thank you,' I wrote, holding out my writing slate so he could read the words.
Alessandro stared at the writing slate, and then back at her. He was a having a difficult time processing what his brain was telling him. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, needing her to spell it out, just to be clear he wasn't misunderstanding anything.
'Isn't it obvious?' I rolled my eyes at him. 'I can't talk.'
Alessandro looked at her disbelievingly. "Then how have you been talking to me all along?"
I put away my slate and grabbed the handkerchief from my apron pocket. 'With this.'
Alessandro recognized the bloody handkerchief she was holding. It was his. He had it with him when he went to the war, but he hadn't realized he lost it until now. He was busy with other things when he returned from battle – like the chest injury he got. "This is mine," he said in wonder, pointing at the initials on the fabric's edge: ALR – Alessandro Lucca de Rossi.
'Oh, so that's what the letters mean,' I grinned at him.
"I can't believe it," Alessandro stated, and it was as if he was saying that to himself. Everything about 20 was unconventional, and this was certainly no exception.
'I found the handkerchief about a week after I arrived in the palace,' I explained.
"That must have been when I first heard you," he speculated. 'When you had saved my life,' he added silently. "So you can only talk to me when you're holding it?"
I nodded. 'And that's also when I can hear you.'
Alessandro thought for a few moments, and then he took the handkerchief from 20 and gently tied it on her left wrist. "This way, you can still talk to me while we're having dinner," he said as he grabbed her hand and led her to the dining room.
I must admit, that was quite resourceful. I had never thought of doing it before. But then again, until tonight, I never had to talk to him while eating, either. The dining room was grand and stately, and the chair 1 had pulled out was plush and so comfortable I nearly sighed as I sank into it. This was definitely a far cry from the hard wooden chairs in the pantry.
"I hope you like it," Alessandro said, eyeing her closely as they started eating. Except for some random things, he didn't know what foods she liked. But when he saw her eagerly helping herself to mixed vegetables in cream sauce and smoked fish, he smiled. It seemed he had ordered the right things.
'It's so good,' I exclaimed happily.
Alessandro grinned back. "It's about to get even better," he announced when they had finished dinner. He stood up and got something from the other side of the room.
When he put it on the table, I gasped. 'Bread pudding!'
"This is my apology for hurting your feelings," Alessandro replied soberly.
I stared at him in wonder. "But how did you even know..?' I never told him I liked bread pudding.
"I heard you," Alessandro clarified. "Remember? I told you before that I could hear you randomly even before you could hear me."
I'd only had bread pudding once in the palace – and that was about six months ago. 'You remember that?' I was stunned.
"Yes, of course," Alessandro confirmed. 'I remember everything about you,' he almost added, but he restrained himself from saying so.
I couldn't believe he actually remembered such a tiny detail. Subconsciously my mind travelled back to when I had meals with Bong-su. We had eaten together so many times but he always forgot that I didn't like pepper in my soup, or that I preferred to put bean sprouts when I had Vietnamese noodles.
"What's wrong?" Alessandro asked, reading the change in her expression.
'Nothing,' I smiled. Now was not the time to recall unpleasant memories – not when I was about to have bread pudding. 'I didn't know you like sweet stuff,' I teased him.
"I usually don't," Alessandro answered as he scooped a portion onto his plate. "But it grew on me."