His Royal Highness's cats are very hairy.

Early morning floor polishing was over, breakfast was over, and Millet was running.

I have to wash my clothes in a few free moments. The rest of us do, because we can also give money to the underwife, who undertakes the laundry of the woman's clothes, to wash them, but Millet wanted to save money and send her to the family.

Plus, for my last sister, I want to save some money. If I grew up in that city like that, my sister could one day be in the same danger as Millet. Not once, but if you let him have a job in his hand, he should be able to get out of that insecure city. Sewing or something, just a discipleship mouthpiece fee for my sister to acquire skill, Millet was going to manage to prepare. If you ask Dahlia again, your sister may also be a lower daughter of the royal palace, but you can't rely on Dahlia that much.

The water field dedicated to the laundry, where people were hissing each other, and the still small millet was pushed to the right and left while holding the laundry.

"Out of the way."

"Oh, sorry"

Large drums and washing boards for laundry were provided for water plants, but in limited numbers.

Millet managed to secure an empty barrel and plate and moved there behind an invisible hedge from the water field. In places where there are many people, buckets and laundry boards are sidelined in a gap with their eyes removed. It is a hundred million robberies to stay away from the water field and to waste water, but behind the hedge you can safely wash it.

But there was a client at the place today.

"... eh"

Millet keeps an eye out.

Empty eyes on chestnut hair.

"... Dear Valvulga?

"Huh?"

Varvulga, who was called by name and sat up with her knees in her arms, raised her face.

The winning eye area was tired and falling and the cheeks were a little thin.

Valvulga loosened that hard look slightly when he looked at Millet from the top of his head to the tip of his leg with a strange face.

"Somewhere... I see you"

"Yes. Um... in the hallway..."

"Oh! You're the kid who put muddy water on the sexually evil woman in my place!

Valvulga laughed. Then he looked a little angry back in the blue eye.

Millet, lost, approaches Valvulga and succumbs next door.

"Duh, what's wrong?

"Me? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm a little tired... and I just wanted to do some laundry..."

They gave up when they saw the mixing water fields.

Valvurga was gripping something tight. Looks like a handkerchief.

Millet looked at it and tilted his neck.

Has Valvurga tried to wash his own handkerchief?

I wonder why you don't ask your youngest daughter.

Is it such an important handkerchief that you don't show it to others or let them touch it?

"... Um... do you want to use it?

Millet offered Valvrga the bucket and laundry board he had. Valvulga blinks her eyes when she sees it.

"Huh?"

"Here you go. What wash... is that a handkerchief?

No matter how carefully you wash it, it won't take long. Millet's free time, too, is still spared.

Valvurga distorted his expression. Blue eyes, polo, and tears spill.

Millet fluttered.

"Oh, um..."

Would I have done something wrong?

"I'm sorry. … the thread of tension is ripped off."

Valvulga shook her voice and said so, leaning down, taking a deep breath.

And with her face up, she was the usual grand Valvurga.

"Thank you, but I actually don't know how to wash it. Why don't you wash it if you want?

Sa 'Alan. Valvulga's hands are so smooth and beautiful that she has never done a water job or anything else.

Millet was confused.

"But... isn't it important?

'Cause you're gonna take care of it.'

Valvulga grabbed Millet's arm gently and turned his palm upwards, placing a blue handkerchief (handkerchief) there.

"Can you please?

"Yes, sir"

Millet squeezes the handkerchief.

"Then..."

And then he nodded, and Millet was in trouble.

"Um... soap is cheap..."

"It's okay. Wash it properly. You don't have to use soap for anything. No body."

Varvulga waved hilariously and laughed karakularly.

Will I have washed it without using soap? Millet stuck his mouth tight.

"Ha, what's important... stuff?

"It's important, or it's borrowed. I didn't use it, so it shouldn't be dirty."

Varvulga drops her gaze laughing vaguely.

"... wept and lent it to me. I wasn't crying, was I? So I tried to give it back, but that cold-blooded guy, he just left, so I gave it back to him."

Blue eyes moisturize all at once.

Millet stood up to cry again.

But at that moment, when a drop of tears tried to fall from his eyelashes, Valvurga blinked and scattered Shizuku.

"... I thought I should wash it once to give it back. But it's really appropriate. Wash it as wrinkly as possible if you can?

Chuckling, Valvulga has said the impossible. Wash to wrinkle...... The opposite is difficult for Millet, who has tried so far in his life to keep his laundry from wrinkling.

"Ha ha..."

In the meantime, Millet spread his hand towel soaking in water. As Varvulga said, there is no dirt. It just has a fine myriad of wrinkles that make you think you would have been squeezing it all along.

And there was something embroidered in the corner.

(... similar to the royal crest though)

The royal crest that elects the bow and arrow and the Heavenly Horse knows even the unschooled Millet. The royal crest is also painted on the flag that will be flown on holidays, because it can be seen everywhere in the king's capital.

A crest whose royal crest is laid in the shape of a shield.

(Like I've seen, like I don't...)

I was told that I did not have to use it, but Millet picked up the soap I had brought and foamed it.

Hand washed, but just in case you shouldn't damage the fabric, treat it a little nicer than usual.

Valvulga was impressed when he saw Millet's hand washing his hand towel using a washing board.

"You're good."

"I've been doing this since I was a little girl."

"How many are you?

"Almost 12."

"Yeah, that's nice."

Praised, Millet is the inner heavens.

The gentle, sweet smell of soap tickles my nose in the wind.

"... I have to give it back... because I'm gonna be a sideroom"

Boso and Valvurga spilled it.

Millet looked softly at Valvulga's face.

Varvulga stares at the void without seeing anything.

On its side, it looked like Millet had some sense of sadness.

"Oh, um... are you being bullied?

So does Valvrga look tired? She seems to have lost a little weight, and harassment from sideroom and sideroom candidates I've heard rumors about may be tormenting her badly.

"Right."

Valvulga nodded lightly.

"Is there a lady in the royal palace who wants to be the king's sideroom? So I've been harassed a lot since I went up to the Royal Palace. With the woman you muddy watered."

"They scattered the worm carcass in front of the room..."

"It wasn't in front of the room, it was on the bunk. The next morning I said," Did you sleep well? I gave each of my coworkers back their cloths. "

……

Millet's imagination, he said, wasn't far from it.

Varvulga put a cheek wand on his knee he held. And circle your gaze.

"I'm fine with harassing you. I was raised by someone whose mother died early and then became my father's wife... and I've been through a lot. So I thought I'd wear a correctional weapon, become a woman, become a sideroom for His Majesty the King, have a prince, and smash that house."

Valvurga's blue eyes, they shake.

Millet put his hands together and looked at it.

"But being my friend... I thought you were on my side. Turns out my colleague actually betrayed me. Exactly... I'm a little bit confused... and..."

"And?"

"... yeah, it's okay"

Perhaps most importantly, Valvulga seemed to swallow without saying.

…………

Millet looks down at a handkerchief full of bubbles.

I guess' Cold Blooded Man 'gave this handkerchief to Valvulga, who wept over his friend's betrayal.

Millet washed the foam of her hand towel beautifully as she poured in new water. Once folded and squeezed the water firmly, it opened again and stretched out its wrinkles.

"... if dried clean, wrinkles should almost disappear"

To Valvulga, Millet hands over the scarf.

Valvulga laughed.

"You're really good. No wrinkles."

"... sorry"

I couldn't live up to Valvulga's hope of getting as wrinkled as I could.

"Yeah. Thanks"

Look Millet in the eye and say so, Valvulga gets up.

"Can you tell me your name?

"Ah, it's Millet"

"Millet. I'm sorry I told you all these boring stories. But it made my heart lighter."

Varvulga lowered his head towards Millet, gently bending one knee on the spot. A dark green uniform lifted only slightly at your fingertips flickers like a butterfly feather.

An elegant lady's liturgy.

"Thank you. Thanks."

Millet was first seen, then rose.

"Oh, no..."

"I'm glad you kept what I told you to yourself."

"Of course!

"... strange"

Valvulga laughed a little troubled as she stretched her knees and stood up straight back.

"Betrayed me... I thought I couldn't trust anyone anymore and I feel like I could believe you"

Valvulga lifted her hand gently when she said so.

"See you later. Millet."

Millet waves back unexpectedly, as if in a broken manner against a close friend.

"Well, see you..."

As beautiful as ever, Valvulga left.

……

In the end, "Cold Blooded Man" is... who the hell lent me that handkerchief?

I didn't think there was any reason to know, Millet, but I was going to get to the truth about things later, unexpectedly.

"... Hey, Melsa. That."

"What?"

Millet pointed at the carriage with the bow and arrow and the crest of Heavenly Horse resting on the shield on the door.

Millet was polishing the floor in the corridor just next to where the nobles' carriages were being stopped. I was originally in charge of the other squad, but there was a sickness shortage coming out of that squad to support me.

"What's wrong with the Chancellor's carriage?

"Chancellor?"

"It's Lady Fanias Marcelio. You know that, right?

The person's face, neither Millet nor Melsa knows. But everyone in this country knows the name of Fanias Marcelio, the famous Chancellor, who, at a young age, exercised all his arms in foreign and internal affairs under the presidency of the Chancellor, as does the royal crest.

"Fanias...... Marcelio? Is this the Marcelio family crest?

"Bow and arrow and Heavenly Horse are royal symbols. The Marcelio family is a shield to protect the royal family. Definitely. This is the Marcelio family carriage. What's wrong with that?

"Ugh, yeah."

Millet shook his head.

The famous Chancellor, and the famous Fanias Marcellio, are even feared behind it as' ruthless', 'no blood, no tears', etc.

The person who lent me the handkerchief (handkerchief), Valvulga called him "the cold-blooded man". Most of all, there was love and trust in that voice...

The blue scarf belonged to Chancellor Fanias Marcellio.

If you lent me your handkerchief to Varvarga, who was about to cry, then perhaps the Prime Minister is not as cold-blooded as he hears rumors.

…………

My hand stops polishing the floor.

It was on a handkerchief, a clenched mark.

"... I have to give it back... because I'm gonna be a sideroom"

Millet remembered the sad side of Varvarga.

Haven't you seen a whore in a working whorehouse who has a lover but is being held hostage by another man with a similar face?

(…… possibly)

It's a hell of an imagination.

But Millet is a woman. I grew up listening all the time to stories of the colorful love that the whores eat, even though they are still called children. A young but keen woman's inquiry complains that an outrageous imagination is not very different from the truth.

(So...)

That's why Valvrga tried to wash her own hand scarf.

That blue handkerchief was too important to ask someone. And it was dangerous. If they see the crest of a handkerchief, they'll wonder why they have the Chancellor's belongings.

I don't know what Prime Minister Marcelio thinks of Valvrga, but I can easily imagine how Valvrga feels about Prime Minister Marcelio, even in Millet if you think back on Valvrga's words and expression.

Varvulga called it 'to it' and I felt I could understand the words I swallowed.

She was so tired of falling in love.

With her decided to be the king's sideroom, she fell in love with the king's most loyal minister.

"Millet! Move your hands!

The lower woman yelled at her head, and Millet, who was frightened, hastily dipped her brush in the water.

(That can't be right!)

The king's sideroom candidate lady. Loyalty to the King. A well-known prime minister. Develop into a situation where both sides are severely punished if they do poorly. There's no way Valvrga or Chancellor Marcelio wouldn't notice that.

(... you just have to keep quiet)

Varvulga becomes a side chamber.

Marcelio serves the king as he has done before.

(I just need to polish the floor)

That's how it should be.