Florian was reluctantly dragged out of bed by Lucius, his protests falling on deaf ears. Despite still being in shock that the red-haired princess—who, by all appearances, seemed to lack even a modicum of wit—had managed to outsmart him, he had no choice but to plan how he'd approach each princess during lunch.
"Remember, Your Highness," Lucius began, adjusting his gloves as he spoke. "Use their likes and dislikes to your advantage."
"And if it doesn't work?" Florian asked, his voice tinged with annoyance and a hint of desperation.
Lucius cast a glance at Cashew, who was standing nearby, an apologetic expression plastered across his face. Without a word, Cashew pointed to the freshly washed maid outfit hanging by the wardrobe. Florian followed his gaze, and his eyes widened in horror.
"If it doesn't work, it's back to being Kaz the maid," Lucius said, his tone a perfect blend of amusement and seriousness.
