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POV: Serena Laratje

"Princess Laratje."

The deep voice not far from us gained our full undivided attention.

I gave the young servant the permission to continue speaking with a shallow nod.

"Your carriage is ready now.", the man let me know, causing me to quietly thank him.

I didn't have to, but it seemed too rude and ungrateful otherwise.

I never had anyone to support me in my real life, let alone servants.

Therefore, just doing a very small favor for me felt more than just uncomfortable.

Only the memories of Serena were crucial, why I mastered and endured all this more or less confidently.

After all, she wasn't used to it any other way, even if she had been very down-to-earth for her status.

"Let's go, Isabelle."

With a shallow smile, I gestured towards the door, as we were still standing motionless in the main hall.

Although we were both unfortunately interrupted too soon, as I wanted to drop a few other bombs, however, I could do that in the future as well.

In any case, it was certain that the conversation between Isabelle and me would reach my father's ears very soon.

So, in the next few days, I was not allowed to break the pattern that Serena had maintained for many years.

It was not up to me to approach the Laratje family.

Besides, I was actually more than curious to see how they would react to this news.

"Princess?"

With a questioning look, I answered Isabelle's widened eyes before I understood that I just remained silently on the same spot for several seconds.

Therefore, I now joined Isabelle, who was already heading outside in the direction of the carriage.

"Already there.", I chuckled with a shallow smile, not wanting to worry the older one any further.

We both had to keep a low profile for the moment.

I trusted that I could do that, but not Isabelle. She is simply too honest for her own good.

However, I couldn't blame her.

She had always been, since she was a child, at the side of mother and later also me.

Due to our personal circumstances, we were always in our own quarters and hardly ever to be found outside them, let alone outside the estate.

Therefore, Isabelle also hardly had the time to interact with others and to gain experience.

Perhaps that is why my fair skin resembled Mother's so much as well.

"Princess?"

"It's nothing."

Isabelle's stare almost caused physical pain, being so piercing.

However, I skillfully ignored it and instead accepted the coachman's hand with gratitude, as well as a shallow smile, helping me into what was, at least from my point of view, a much too outdated method of transportation.

"I think I'm going to be sick on an empty stomach."

I started to pout especially, as both Serena and I seemed to have not so strong stomachs.

"I actually wanted to have breakfast with you first.", I now grumbled, a little displeased.

A glance in the direction of Isabelle, who had sat down opposite me, proved me with her more relaxed demeanor that my performance had worked.

The older one gave me now a shallow smile and reached in the next moment into her pocket.

A small glass container came to the surface, so I immediately looked at it enthusiastically.

Isabelle even let out a little laugh.

"I have prepared your favorite sweets as a precaution.", the brunette explained needlessly.

I just loved confectionery more than anything!

"Do I get one already?", I cooed with wide, wide eyes.

However, it seemed that this had not been necessary at all, because Isabelle immediately pressed two into my hand.

With a loud thank you, the first victim of my sweet tooth disappeared into my mouth.

I pressed the second one, however, again into Isabelle's hand.

She was staring at the little pink candy for a moment before a small smile spread on her lips and with an even quieter thank you the candy also disappeared in her mouth.

Isabelle has at least as big a weakness for sweets as I do.

Maybe even greater. After all, as a simple orphan and also maid, she had no opportunity to eat sweets except on special occasions.

Especially not candy.

Therefore, I had loved to share my desserts with her in the past. It had always satisfied me to observe her sparkling brown eyes when a piece of cake disappeared into her mouth.

It was very difficult to warm her up at all in the first place to eat.

However, it was worth it every time.

"Do you like the brand? It's a new one.", Isabelle said with a gentle smile, causing me a moment to realize and understand her sudden question.

I smiled.

"They taste really good, but I'm not smiling because of that."

Briefly, I paused.

"Not exclusively because of that.", I corrected myself a little embarrassed now. I could hear a sincere laugh from Isabelle for the first time in a long time because of that.

She was such a sweet girl.

"Then what is the reason?", asked Isabelle against her nature more than curious.

She had most likely noticed that I was probably in a good mood today, despite meeting the Laratje family, and wanted to share a little bit of that happiness.

"I remembered how we used to eat so much candy when we were kids."

I had to laugh heartily when I saw for the first time in a long, very long time something like blush of shame on Isabelle's face.

She was a very expressive person.

Really. Through and through.

But she almost never made mistakes and even more rarely talked about her own situation or even feelings.

As a result, there were few occasions when she would feel embarrassed.

She was often quick-tempered or annoyed. However, never because of herself. Always because of me.

"That... that...", the older one bubbled now even quite speechless, causing me to start laughing again.

She wasn't even angry with me, at least that's how I interpreted her facial expression.

She seemed to be simply offended like a small, stubborn child, because I could now even make out a small pout.

Isabelle was rarely so carefree.

With an unstable personality like me, she really didn't have the libarty either.

I inevitably paused at this thought.

For several days now, I had been noticing this.

In the beginning, I always talked about 'Serena'. Nothing more, nothing less.

A simple, foolish character as a footnote in a bad love story full of clichés through and through.

However, that was changing now.

I no longer said 'Serena', but spoke of her in the first person singular.

Not: this minor character.

Not: this wallflower.

Not: Princess Laratje.

Not: Serena.

... but: I, me.

The same was the case for Odett Laratje.

I started to call her mother more and more often in my mind, too, and I was angry because of the family Laratje.

However, I was not objective at all. On the contrary.

My attention was directed to my hands, which had been lying on my flat stomach and applying a little counterpressure since we left.

Was my weak stomach really that bad in the real world?