20| Economist II

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Anthony asked once more, his voice tinged with annoyance and threat.

Sylteena's fingers slowly loosened on textbooks, setting them back on the table with the hair on her neck erect as the chill down her spine stiffened her from turning to face her dear 'husband'.

She gulped softly, turning to the prince with a bow. "Y- Your Highness —"

"Get out before I drag you out."

Goosebumps coated her brown skin as she dropped her gaze with a remorseful expression. "Yes, Your Highness."

Maintaining her eyes on the tiles, Sylteena steadily paced to the door — but just before she could take hold of the knob — the door pushed open to collide with the side of her face

Staggering to the side, a body then clashed against hers, pushing both her and the guest to the floor as a shower of scattered papers rained on them.

Sylteena rubbed the side of her face as she let out a soft groan, squeezing her eyelids tight before opening to take a glance at who'd just bumped into her.

Before her was a slender, short woman dressed in a formal attire; her curly blonde hair shrouded by a fancy hat adorned with flowers.

From the sparkle of her glam outfit, to the long length of her white gloves, not to mention the ornaments of her floral hat alone, Sylteena could tell in just a glance that the young woman before her was of high cast standing.

But just before she could glance at the woman's face, the lady immediately went on her knees to hastily pick up the scattered sheets on the floor around them, bowing and murmuring, "Oh my- Forgive me, Your Highness. Forgive me..."

Finally picking up all the papers around them, Sylteena watched the lady finally stand up straight to dust her clothes, taking note of her plain brown eyes.

With delicate petite features like most women of esteem status due to their shielded lifestyle, her fair white skin was tainted with a hue of light pink as she panted. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

With Sylteena still seated on the floor and the pain across her face slightly numbing, she watched the beauty of a maiden stretch out a hand to help her up.

With her mind still dazzed and uncertain for the woman's gesture, Prince Anthony called out in a harsh tone, "Lady Clementine!"

The lady's hand instinctively retracted.

"Is that what you came here for?" Anthony glared at her from the corner of his eyes, causing her body to still in fright.

"You're late," Anthony's eyes narrowed. "Do not waste any more of my time."

"Apologies, Your Highness!"

Despite Anthony's subtle warning, Clementine still grasped Sylteena's hand to pull her up to her feet, bowing her head before hastily racing to the prince's side.

Anthony gave her a condescending glare before letting out a huff, looking back at the table before them.

The maiden, Lady Clementine, bowed once more before placing the documents and papers she'd gathered, on the table before them. Parting her lips to speak to the prince, Anthony's words then interrupted. "And why are you still here?"

Sylteena's shoulders flinched as the words felt like needles pierced at her. She cowardly dropped her head and walked out of the royal library, closing the door behind her.

As she padded through the lonely long corridor, Sylteena couldn't help but look at her hand — the hand Lady Clementine had held to pull her up.

Sylteena blinked twice, lessening the pace of her feet as she halted in her path.

She carefully turned her hand back and forth with furrowed brows as she scrutinized.

That was the very first time in years... That someone aside, Philip willingly touched her hand without the intention of hitting or dragging her.

Sylteena remained still and baffled.

... That was the very first someone new chose to help her.

Sylteena's eyes blurred, causing the crease above her brows to deepen as she raised her fingers to wipe what happened to be tears on her cheek.

She took a moment to process the event before having a light smile tug the edge of her lips. She proceeded forth and up to the prince's chambers.

• • •

Hours later...

"I don't understand any of these!" The distressed voice of Lady Clementine bounced off the wooden walls of the library, resonating between the tall shelves that surrounded the round table she was seated alone in.

Plummeting her face unto the open text before, her hands fell on the heap of papers scattering on the table surface.

"Why don't these budgets align!?" An exasperated sigh escaped her lips, clutching unto her ink pen.

"These doesn't make sense..." She slowly raised her head to look back at the predicament scribbled on the documents before her. "The inconsistency in economic trends is bizarre!! And His Highness has narrowed my time limit to before the next council meeting; how in heaven's name am I supposed to correct all these before then?"

Her palms cupped the sides of her face, pouting her lips as she let out a huff. "Or should I just change the figures until all the budget aligns?" She immediately pinched herself, whimpering softly. "No, Clementine! You mustn't let such deceitful thoughts cloud your mind! Honesty is a virtue!"

Her fingers then curled to a fist as she gently stroked the table. "You must do as His Highness ordered..." Her expression slowly fell. "... And find a way to correct the taxation and budgeting of the entire capital in one night... Even though I understand absolutely nothing—"

"It's basically inaccurate tax revenue projections due to outdated assumptions."

Lady Clementine's soul almost sprouted from her being as her body flinched to the sudden voice that spoke behind her.

"Ah!—" Her head snapped over her shoulders, feeling her heart at her throat. Her widened eyes locked on the wide mismatched pair that stared back at her.

Meanwhile, Sylteena remained still as a statue, forgetting to blink the moment Clementine's eyes locked on hers.

Standing stiffened with her hands held behind her back and her lips pressed in a thin line, Sylteena suddenly felt the uncomfortable weight of recognition and suddenly realized of how closely she stood to where Clementine was seated.

Instinctively, her nerves wrecked to force her feet back a few paces, dropping her eyes from Clementine's as her fingers dug into her wet palms. Sylteena bit her lips.

She felt the internal wedge of her mistake of getting so consumed by curiosity of economics that she'd invaded the personal space of the young lady.

Clementine immediately stood up from her seat in haste, catching Sylteena off guard as she looked up to now see Clementine bowing.

"Forgive me, Your Highness! I did not know when you walked in."

Sylteena's brows knitted. Was she really apologizing?...

It took her a few moments to recall her position as the standing crowned princess before her lips could gap. "U- Uh... It- It's okay..." The words barely left as whispers, but clear enough for Clementine to hear before raising her head.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Lady Clementine added, smiling warmly.

A certain crawl in Sylteena's skin caused a crease to form above her brows.

In the long years of experience with poisonous glares and dagger stares, Sylteena could easily spot disgust or revolt in a person just by a mere glance at their pupils and the radiant aura that despised her presence.

But at the sight of Lady Clementine's brown doe eyes that dilated in warmth despite the dark circles beneath them, her slightly slumped shoulders and untensed muscles displayed her clear state of ease and welcome in Sylteena's presence — which was a rare occurrence; no one who ever stood in the same air space with Sylteena remained so calm and unhinged by her appearance and being.

Sylteena's brows knitted.

Even the maids and servants had an unpleasant aura against her the moment they passed, no matter how much they'd tried to respect her as the princess...

And then this young, beautiful maiden before her seemed so neutral and innocent, like an infant in the presence of an ogre...

Wait!... Did she just refer to herself as an ogre?

A light sting struck her chest before she finally cleared her throat and looked away after realizing she had been staring at Lady Clementine too long.

"Um.." Sylteena started, having her eyes trail back to the desk. "The inaccurate tax revenue projections are due to outdated assumptions."

Clementine's brows furrowed. "Outdated?"

Feeling the peeking urge of excitement in knowledge and expertise limp joyfully in her heart, Sylteena composed herself to explain.

"Specifically, the problem is that the calculations for the tax revenue projections are based on last year's numbers and do not take into account the recent changes in tax policies, which could significantly impact the accuracy of the projections."

Clementine's brows arched higher as her lips gapped. Looking back at the papers, she ravaged through a few sheets as her eyes widened.

Sylteena suddenly found herself speaking further, "The tax revenue projections seem to be based on last year's numbers. However, with the recent changes in tax policies, I think you'd need to recalculate the projections."

Clementine slowly started to realize what she was pointing out as she skimmed through. "Oh... I see..."

Sylteena nodded, "For example, the new tax rate of 22% will likely increase the tax revenue. Additionally, the tax exemption for low-income households may reduce the revenue. You'd need to take these factors into account to get an accurate projection."

The widest smile that stretched from ear to ear masked Clementine's lips as she slowly looked up with dilated eyes. "You're right!"

Sylteena bit her lips to hold back the proud smirk on her lips as she looked down. "I- It is nothing of such—"

"Please help me!"

Sylteena's eyes snapped at her. "Huh?"

Dropping the documents onto the table without taught, Clementine paced forth to grasp Sylteena's hands without warning. "I need your help, Your Highness!!"

Sylteena's eyes remained widened.

Clementine's eyes softened. "Forgive my desperation and plea, but I don't think I can do this without your expertise, Your Highness!" She squeezed her hands tighter. "Please!!"

But the only thing that echoed in Sylteena's baffled mind — putting aside the warm grasp that felt too different from the abusive restraints she'd been use to — was the fact that Clementine asked for help

"I should... Help... You?" Sylteena murmured.