Bettor Mr. Nobles
Chapter 55

Naeva's steps suddenly came to a halt as she remembered something. An idea flashed through his mind. He turned and looked at the count. "Don't I say I want you to change? If you really want to apologize, you can make that change from now on."

Abellard came closer. "I'll do it! Whatever it is!" his determination is full of spirit.

Naeva held a smile remembering her idea. Now the maids would no longer have to wait for the bodyguards to lift heavy things, for the Count himself would have helped.

"Alright, I'll deliver this fruit to the dining room first. Wait a minute," he said.

In the dining room it turns out Amily is still standing waiting for her.

"Amily? You waiting for me?"

"Yes, M'mselle. I'm afraid suddenly you meet the Countess alone."

Naeva smile. Amily was watching him.

"Alright, this task is done, now we go back to the kitchen," he asked.

Upon returning to the place, Naeva sees Abellard still waiting for her. It seems the Count really intends to change.

The girl then nodded respectfully as Amily had done, "Monsieur Comte, come with us to the kitchen if you'd like to" she said in a formal gesture. Makes Abellard anxious, knowing she's being tested by the girl with her game.

The Count could only nod and follow their steps.

Amily stared confusedly, then whispered to Naeva anxiously. "You really took Monsieur Comte to the kitchen?"

Naeva nodded and smiled. "Yes, the kitchen is one of the rooms that play an important role in a dwelling. A place that guarantees the survival of its inhabitants. So it's only natural that the owner of the residence himself entered it, right?" Naeva deliberately replied in a loud voice, for Abellard to also listen.

Amily nodded reluctantly, especially then the tip of her eyes saw the Comte until the scratching of his neck that certainly did not itch it.

Amily's shock and anxiety was no more than the surprise of the waiters in the kitchen. Seeing the Count enter, everyone stopped their activities and nodded respectfully.

Naeva immediately approached the young girls who had just put back the sack of wheat on the floor while bowing respectfully.

"Is there still a sack of wheat to be included? We'll help" asked Naeva.

While Abellard was still fixated on staring at the atmosphere of the kitchen that had never been noticed so far. Full of cooking ingredients and waitresses with her cook. It was only fitting that their long and large dining table was always filled with food. It turned out that all the servants worked hard to prepare it.

"Still, M'mselle," replied a senior servant. "But .. You better just sit down. It's our job."

"It's okay. Monsieur Comte said that he needed morning exercise, so I brought him here" replied Naeva.

The servants turned to the Count, looking to see if what Mlle Gaulle had said was not a joke.

Abellard had to nod.

"There, M'mselle. There are still some sacks of wheat that have not been moved," point the servant towards the door leading out. Looks like the wheat was just brought home from the market.

"Okay, we'll try!" greet Naeva while smiling widely and raising her arms excitedly.

His step towards the pile of grain sacks followed by Abellard who spontaneously smiled anxiously at Naeva's expression, the girl was like a boy who excitedly invited her friend to play.

"Let me alone" Abellard said, pulling a sack of wheat.

The two guards, who had just been called by the maid, immediately helped the count lift the sack with a confused look. What happened until Count Abellard did their work?

Naeva looked at Abellard with a smile. It's great to see Abellard back to what she used to be when she was Richard. The ordinary man she loved.

Finished lifting the sack of wheat, Naeva invites Abellard to do other things, even to decorate the cake 'Croquembouche' with beautiful flowers that can be consumed.

'Croquembouche' is a typical French cake that is usually made during celebrations. This cake is a round-shaped sus cake as big as a tennis ball which is then arranged to form a tower of sus cakes woven by fine caramel around it, so as not to fall.

Usually they will make this Croquembouche as a birthday cake

"Where is the person who has a birthday?" ask Naeva while cleaning up the caramel spill on the edge of Croquembouche's plate.

"She we forbid to go out before the preparations are finished" one of the servants replied with a happy smile.

Naeva smiled, then placed both hands on Abellard's cheeks, so that the brown caramel was attached to the Count's cheek.

Abellard's surprised. At first he was happy to think Naeva was starting to dare to touch his cheek. But as soon as his skin felt sticky, he immediately knew that the girl was playing tricks on him.

"Waah .. The brown veins on your face are really terrible! You look like a monster, Monsieur Comte. Argrg ...." Naeva mimicked the monster's movements and her voice as well. Makes the waiters laugh when they hear it.

Abellard immediately put on a furious look. Naeva and the servants stopped laughing at her. Their hearts were at once alarmed, what if the Count was enraged?

Without anyone noticing, Abellard's hand moved into the flour container and scooped it with all her grip.

And ...

Puk!

Naeva's face was successfully covered in flour by her.

All shocked.

And was really shocked because their mood was also tense.

Naeva was glued to her reflex eyes when her face was patted gently by Abellard.

Two seconds later, Naeva slowly opened her eyes again, then blinked funny.

"Huahaha ...." The sound of Abellard's laughter suddenly boomed in the room. Abellard really laughed out loud. Her stomach was tingled to see Naeva's white face filled with flour. It was adorable when the girl blinked her hairless eyes.

Seeing this, the servants laughed. It turned out that the Count only pretended to be angry to prank Mlle Gaulle.

The atmosphere of the kitchen is really hot right now.

"What is this?!" Mme Aamber's voice suddenly sounded from the direction of the kitchen entrance.

Everyone fell silent and turned to the door. Naeva quickly wiped her face. Everyone was tense, seeing the Countess finding them having fun, except for Abellard of course. The sole heir of the Marseille nobility even wanted to show his mother that he was happy with people who were judged low-caste by the nobles.

Mme Aamber looked surprised and confused for a moment, seeing her son in the kitchen and chatting with the servants. It was a strange and surprising sight for him.

But then, the woman seemed to behave normally again, cold and elegant as usual. Then I looked at Naeva. "Mlle Gaulle, I'd like to talk to you alone for a moment" he said.

Naeva jerks. Countess called him? His face that had lowered earlier, slowly raised with doubt. His heart was really alarmed, why did the Countess call him? Is Abellard's mother gonna blame her for seeing Abellard in the kitchen?

A like-minded Abellard with Naeva immediately rose to defend. "Mere, I want to come here myself" he said.

Mme Aamber turned with a flat look. "Mere didn't ask you," he answered briefly.

"So why did Mere call Naeva?"

"Mere wants to talk to him about something."

Naeva got up from her chair with a racing heart. And stepped slowly towards Mme Aamber who had turned out.

Abellard followed him.

"Mere, if Mere wants to scold Naeva then I should bear it too."

Mme Aamber turned back. " Ma Fils, Mere just wants to talk, not hurt her, can't you trust Mere?"

Abellard fell silent, as if her mother would not scold Naeva. Her eyes turned to the girl who was still with flour on her face, and she saw Naeva nod her head in a sign that it was okay.

"All right," he gave up.

Mme Aamber turned back and continued with Naeva. It was still in his mind how Abellard had laughed loosely with the servants and the girl who was walking behind him at this moment.

It was truly a rare sight. He hadn't seen Abellard laugh that way in a long time. Since his father died and then when he added the wound to his son it was for bringing a stepfather in as a substitute.

Mme Aamber sighed heavily. In his heart he was very grateful to the extraordinary girl he had once blasphemed, Naeva de Gaulle.