She Will Be Impressed

 Chapter 96 She Will Be Impressed

*Mykhol*

"It'll do." Mykhol toned coolly, purposely holding back any initial praise for the royal tailor. Praise could swell a head far too easily, and he had no intention of encouraging her. Tailors like her, eager for approval, were useful when kept in check.

And she won't ask for a tip. He smirked. Not that he minded the expectation—letting them think a reward was coming, only to leave them empty-handed. It kept them guessing. 

Taking the white scarf from her, he left. It was time to find wherever that giant took Ana. But he wasn't too concerned about finding her.

Ana is a creature of habit, after all. Mykhol was all too familiar. If she wasn't anything, she was predictable. Meaning there were only a few places she could be.

It's too cold to be outside now–making it safe to assume the Rose Garden was out. That meant only two other places. 

Her precious study or her room.

I'll check her room first. He quickened his steps, the slap of his sandals echoing through the stone hall. The cold air nipped at his ankles, but the sound pleased him — a reminder of his steady purpose. His tunic fluttered as he paced. Only stopping to greet fellow nobles in the white halls before pressing on. 

Mykhol opened the scarf to look over the hard work. Again, appreciating his choice to use the Ultramarine thread.

The stars and moons look so delicate. It paired well with the white background. And there was another reason. All the blue made one particular shape stand out all the better.

"I wonder how long it will take her to notice." He stroked the small heart stitched in red. Fingers traced the letters 'A&M' in the center.

He hoped not too long. 

But then again, this was his cousin.  Ana was relatively poor when it came to noticing the small things. But that's why he was going directly to her right now.

It'll be easier, too– Mykhol stopped at the click of heels. Someone was coming his way. 

The flash of blond came first before the rest turned the corner to come into view. Shaking the ground under her weight.

Mykhol quickly bowed on instinct, the perfect picture of grace. "Oh, Your Highness." His voice curled smoothly, polished like a gleaming silver coin.

"Lord Mykhol," Hidi replied, just as casual. No warmth. No intrigue.

But that was fine. He wasn't expecting her to be enthralled — not yet. Charm was a game of patience.

"Greetings to you." He straightened, though it did little good. Even tall as he was, Hidi's looming figure cast him in shadow. The giant queen's height made looking up a strange and unnatural act. 

I can't imagine how Ana must feel, he thought with a twinge of amusement. She was small, even for her age. Conversations with Hidi must leave her neck sore. The image almost made him chuckle. Almost.

But now wasn't the time.

"Greetings," Hidi echoed, though her gaze flicked past him as though something — or someone — more interesting might appear. Disinterested.

Mykhol's smile faltered, tightening just at the edges.

Since when does anyone, apart from Ana, resist my charm?

It was an irritating bruise to his pride. He didn't like it. Not one bit. But that only made him more determined. If anything, it was now a matter of principle. She was an ally, a queen, and a giant — all inconvenient, yes. But her favor could prove useful in the long run. Building rapport was a worthwhile investment. When the throne was his, Almony's loyalty would be a fine addition.

He could endure this.

"Are you coming from seeing Anastasia?" His tone was all pleasant curiosity, the kind designed to draw someone in. A deliberate choice.

"Ana, you mean?" Hidi hummed, her mouth twitching with amusement. He couldn't tell if she was being coy or condescending. But then, she glanced at the scarf in his hand, her grin widening. "Ah. What's that?"

Mykhol lifted it, holding the pristine white fabric so the embroidered initials gleamed. "Oh, this?" He almost laughed. "It's—"

"For Ana?" Hidi interrupted, nodding knowingly.

Mykhol's grin answered for him. "Yes, it is. How did you—"

"Ha! I was worried I would be the only one." Hidi exhaled with exaggerated relief, her broad shoulders relaxing. "Good. Perhaps Ana is right to think you are doing her only good."

He flinched. Doing her only good?

"What?" Mykhol's smile strained as confusion prickled beneath his skin. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean by that?"

But before he could press further, Hidi's massive hand clapped onto his shoulder. The force jolted him, and despite himself, he staggered. The heat of embarrassment flared under his collar.

You stupid giant–His teeth clenched. He wanted to shove her off, to demand some semblance of decorum. But no. She wasn't just some lumbering brute — she was a queen. The queen of Almony. He needed to keep his composure. 

Control. Always control.

"I'm honored, Your Majesty," he said, forcing the warmth back into his voice. A placating smile tugged at his lips, though his shoulder throbbed beneath her lingering grip.

"Oh, I'm sure you are." Hidi laughed, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "And it's good to know I'm not the only one giving Ana a gift. Though a scarf?" She flicked her fingers dismissively. "It's not much compared to mine."

Mykhol's smile held firm, though his jaw tensed. "Ah, yes. You must mean your contributions at court. Your—"

"My, this trip is costing me a pretty penny," Hidi interrupted, waving a hand as though the expense was little more than a passing inconvenience. "It's one thing to get into war." She held up two thick fingers, almost brushing his lips. "But I still have to pay for Ana's dress, too."

Ana's dress?

Mykhol blinked. "Her dress… you mean her coronation gown?"

Hidi nodded, chuckling as she admired the gold rings on her fingers. "Not that I'll fit it, obviously," she quipped. "But the jewels are good quality. I'll use them well."

He barely heard the words. The idea of Hidi buying Ana's gown — her gown — unsettled him. Was she already starting to meddle? 

Working against their plans? 

But before he could voice his thoughts, Hidi's attention shifted back to the scarf. Without hesitation, her large hand reached for it.

"Wait, that's—" Mykhol instinctively jerked back. Her fingers, thick and powerful, brushed over the delicate stitching. The fabric seemed fragile beneath her grasp. He half-expected it to tear.

"Oh!" Hidi chirped, noticing the embroidery. "A heart. And… A & M?" She raised a brow. "Your initials?"

Mykhol's mouth dried. Damn it.

"I-It's a private joke." He averted his gaze, the lie spilling easily. "Something between Ana and me."

"A joke?"

"Yes. It's…" Mykhol pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, scrambling for something clever. But it didn't matter. Hidi nodded, satisfied. Her simple-minded amusement returned, bouncing the thick braid down her back.

"I like jokes." She hummed. Then, with a yawn so exaggerated it could have shaken the walls, she stretched her arms to their full, monstrous height. "Ah. All this talk of money has me sleepy. I shall nap."

Mykhol concealed his relief, bowing low. "Your Majesty."

When he straightened, she was staring. Not past him. At him.

"Your Majesty?" He glanced over his shoulder, searching for the object of her focus. Nothing.

Just him.

Hidi's green eyes narrowed, something unreadable flickering across them. For a moment, the usual laughter faded. Her grin lingered, but beneath it was something else. Something knowing.

"I was just checking on something," she said, tapping her lips with a thoughtful finger. Then, without elaborating, she turned.

"Checking?" Mykhol stiffened but forced his smile to remain. Whatever game she was playing, he refused to let her see how unnerved he was.

Hidi's grin sharpened. "You have such a distinct smile, Lord Mykhol."

And with that, she strode past him.

Mykhol watched her retreat, his fingers tightening around the scarf. His pulse thudded in his ears. That last remark. What had she meant? His smile? It gnawed at him, the uncertainty clinging like smoke.

But no. It was nothing. Giants were strange creatures. Strange, cumbersome, and impossible to understand. He shook his head.

 Whatever Hidi thought she saw — it was unimportant.

She's just a means to an end.

And one day, when the throne was his, it wouldn't matter at all.

Like many other things, he decided. 

"If she wants to pay for the gown, that's fine." Mykhol dismissed, turning toward Ana's hall.

It wouldn't change anything.

Rumors were already spreading — whispers of the Empress's lavish tastes and irresponsible spending. That gown, supposedly dripping in gold and jewels, had become the prime example. Whether Hidi paid for it or not, the damage was done. Ana's reputation was tarnishing before she'd even taken the throne. The nobles didn't need facts. 

Most already didn't like her for being mixed. That alone served them well. But it didn't hurt to add fuel to their grievances, and the gown served perfectly.

She was an unsteady leader, they'd say. A poor judge of money, unfit to manage an empire's treasury. And when the questions began, so would the doubts.

Just as they wanted.

Mykhol's lips curled slightly at the thought. Even with Hidi's unexpected generosity, the weight of those rumors wouldn't lift. They clung to Ana like oil — thick, stubborn, and undeniable. And as her credibility crumbled, his own standing would rise. The nobles would look to him as the rightful choice, the sensible alternative.

Of course, once he married Ana, the line of succession would remain intact. But it had to be clear — painfully clear — that he was the one in control. Not Ana. Not some fragile Empress with a penchant for costly gowns. Mykhol would be the true power on the throne, as it was always meant to be.

However, Hidi's sudden involvement complicated things.

Father would need to ease up on the stealing. At least for now. Mykhol could already imagine the tantrum that would follow. His father hated restraint, especially when the treasury had been so easy to drain. But with the Queen of Almony footing the bill for both the armory and the gown, the numbers had to appear somewhat believable.

If they weren't careful, even the laziest noble might start to question how their funds were vanishing so quickly.

Father might cry. Mykhol wouldn't be surprised.

But no matter. There were other ways to siphon gold without drawing suspicion. A few missing shipments. Trade disputes. Maybe even a convenient raid along the supply lines. Something subtle. Something clever. He'd make sure of it.

Their plan was in motion, and soon enough, Ana's downfall would follow.

And when it did, he would be the one waiting.

Mykhol's grin curled darkly, the mere thought sending a rush of satisfaction through him. He could already see it — Ana, trembling beneath the weight of her failure, her pride shattered. She'd have no choice but to turn to him. Her cousin. Her savior. The only one who had always stood by her side. All these years.

She'd cry for him. Plead for him. Those wide, desperate eyes searching his for comfort. And he would give it freely.

But not without making sure she knew — it was his hand that pulled her from the wreckage. His strength that held her together. Just like it always should have been.

Mine. She was his. And once the throne was his too, there wouldn't be a soul in Nochten who dared think otherwise.

"Now," Mykhol murmured, halting just long enough to pull out his compact mirror. He angled it carefully, brushing his bangs to one side until they fell just right. Not too perfect — he didn't want to look like he'd spent all morning fussing. But enough. Enough to catch her eye.

His gaze flickered lower, lingering on the ruby earrings. Deep crimson stones, polished to a perfect gleam. They caught the light with each subtle tilt of his head, dazzling without being gaudy. Mykhol grinned. Instead of distracting from his face, they did the opposite. They sharpened the lines of his jaw, emphasizing his high cheekbones. More handsome. More manly. Exactly how he wanted to look.

Not that Ana ever noticed.

He rolled his eyes, though the frustration was half-hearted. Honestly. Dealing with someone so oblivious was exhausting. She never seemed to catch the hints, no matter how obvious. The lingering touches. The teasing smiles. Every compliment crafted just for her. And still — nothing.

But today would be different.

"She'll notice," he assured himself, straightening. "She has to."

And why wouldn't she? The scarf was perfect. Thoughtful, elegant, everything she deserved. He could already picture it: the way her eyes would widen, how her fingers would run over the fine embroidery, marveling at the craftsmanship. And then — oh, the way she'd smile. Maybe even get that soft, breathless laugh she saved for rare moments.

She'd thank him, of course. She'd mean it. And maybe — just maybe — she'd step closer. A lingering touch. A kiss.

Mykhol's chest fluttered at the thought, but he quickly shook it off. Don't get ahead of yourself. It was Ana, after all. She was stubborn, cautious, and maddeningly slow to catch on. But she would. Eventually.

Sooner or later, she was going to fall for him.

And when she did, he'd be ready.

He adjusted his tunic one last time, smoothing the fabric over his chest. Every detail had been accounted for. The scarf, the earrings, the charm — all of it carefully arranged. 

Crafted for her.

Mykhol squared his shoulders, anticipation curling tight in his chest.

"Showtime."

He sucked in a breath, savoring the spark of excitement, then lifted his hand. Rapping the door against his knuckles.