Speaking of which, who darkened the lights in the room?
Usually the lights go off when Berta sleeps alone, and brighter when she lays Louis to sleep. When it got dark, I woke up in the middle of the night. Because Louis cries. I feel the excellence of the samurai of my own palace without trying to do so.
Berta thinks of it as this, with no sense of attachment.
Speaking of which, how would Louis be doing by now? During the winter months I was plagued by his poor bedtime, but after it warmed up I slept completely fast. Of course he would be asleep already.
Although there will be days when Berta sleeps with him and days when the nanny falls asleep, there won't be any particular discomfort for that kid even if Berta isn't around.
"- What are you thinking?
He showed a looser than usual atmosphere next door, also with his forehead sticking to his forehead with sweat intact.
I don't know. Berta already wanted to sleep tired, or at least get dressed and then talk to me.
Thoughts were strangely slow even though his eyes were covered, and as he followed and recognized that he had spoken to him, what he had been thinking remained in his mouth.
"About Louis."
But Harold made me look weird, so he made some mistakes.
"Berta, I know you're a good mother."
He said so in a forgiving tone, and touched Berta's hair in a good mood and put his fingers through it. Lips in the form of a grin that left a sweet, melted atmosphere in the middle approached and gently touched Berta's forehead.
I don't want to get into his sight as much as possible and wear a hanging cloth all the way to my head, but my careless hand reaches out and tries to pull down the hanging cloth. The futile offense seems to be just a bunch of twists and turns out to be more and more stupid.
"But that's the thing now.... a little bit about me, too"
I didn't answer anything. Simply, I don't see what kind of reaction it follows to return it.
(What is it? Looks like someone I don't know)
In fact, Berta didn't know that much about her husband if you think about it.
Though in our third year of marriage, the time we spent together is too short. Not to mention it was like having little or no opportunity to have personal time unrelated to official business.
That's suddenly the attitude that I'm just saying is different from now on.
He didn't seem particularly concerned, even as Berta remained perplexed, falling asleep on the sleeping table and exploring the fixed position of the pillow.
"Well, fine. I don't think I can hang out with your favorite son."
"Aren't you coming home?
"In the morning."
Are you going to sleep here like this?
Is it good for Berta to back down in that case? No, probably not. This is Berta's room in the first place, and there's nowhere else to sleep besides this sleeping area.
I snuck a sigh just in my heart and pulled the cloth up softly over my head again.
It's been about another month since Harold suddenly went out to Berta's Palace.
Initially, it was an emergency for every human being in the palace. Especially the morning after he first stayed, the ladies' haste chilled Berta.
They were perfectly accustomed to the easy-going palace service of Berta's palace, full of women.
That is suddenly the great task of getting out in the morning in front of His Majesty the King and serving breakfast. To be honest, they were very floating over the fact that Harold had come across to Berta, and at the same time they were nervous.
Berta remembers well that the excessively vibrant lipstick color of the women who misapplied the force of makeup in the early morning reduced her appetite.
Harold didn't seem particularly uncomfortable for not knowing usually. Rather than that, he may not have the personality to look out for a female official at all.
About a month after that rushed morning, on the boulder. This morning, the women's condition was calm. The breakfast seats that we had together also brought a lot of everyday atmosphere.
"I'll be here tonight."
On the other hand, it was the first time since Harold came through to say his next appointment.
Until now, I've come through quite a bit in between.
"Trouble."
Berta normally said no.
The ladies who were serving breakfast with an unfamiliar face were about to inadvertently mislead at hand as they listened, but not so far as Berta was concerned.
"Why?"
Harold breaks only a loose grin when he's a carefree, heartfelt man in the morning.
This is the first time I've known that he's a good eater from breakfast. Berta originally barely eats in the morning. When he's here, he hangs out and mouths a little.
Because it won't last long until Harold gets home.
"... even though he said he was busy with more work as queen and support related to the next proposed transition capital. I don't sleep well when I come here day after day. I'm afraid Your Majesty is busier now than I am."
"I'm not sleepless."
That would be so. Berta's lack of sleep is simply because he doesn't sleep well when he's next door.
In fact, we know that Harold is not responsible for the lack of sleep. Berta, however, was also surprised that he had changed a little too quickly in terms of his recent attitude.
There was an example case, and it was around winter that Marguerite, his rightful wife, had lost her legs until then.
Berta, who took the seat of a substantial genuine wife to be replaced, may have the closest feeling that she, as a person, had fitted into her posterior wife.
Not much for six months since then. I guess I put a period of time until he could sort it out, but it's not what Berta found out, such as the length of that period.
Trouble was merely genuine without a multiplication.
I wonder how he can change his plans without offending me. There's no way a woman unfamiliar with everything knows such a manipulation.
"At this time of year, I would be in trouble if even children could"
Now Harold as well as the women misplaced at hand. The hand that was cutting the ham off the breakfast stopped and the air died.
"............... are you inviting me?
"No!
Berta blushed when she realized early on that he had probably failed in his reaction, noticing a conversation that had become a strange atmosphere in the morning. I'd like to take a seat for breakfast now.
But he is somewhat of a figurehead as he restarts his meal as if nothing had happened.
"Sure enough, you're supposed to accompany me on my visit to Transitou. The relocation of the Royal Palace is not so important to a generation. I would also like to take advantage of this to incorporate Southern opinions."
I'd like to keep the attitude that I also heard Southern opinions through Berta to be exact, but I wouldn't mind mixing it back with the boulder right now and Berta kept quiet.
"But there is nothing to take precedence over the health of the queen. Let me know as soon as you do. Reschedule or let the southern lords and your ladies take their place..."
"I understand now. That's not what I'm talking about, so stop talking about this and don't want it tonight."
I worked the disrespect of blocking the story and ending it, but seeing Berta's unavailable attitude, Harold just laughed like he couldn't stand the tickle for a little while.
"... what is it"
"No, it's nothing"