Chapter 367: Using rose flowers

Iliana was sleeping soundly when a knock at the door disturbed her rest. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up, still drowsy, only to hear another knock a moment later.

She reached for the lamp burning beside her bed and climbed out from beneath the covers. Holding the lamp in one hand, she made her way to the door, but before opening it, she leaned toward the window to check who was outside.

The moment she recognized the familiar figure standing beyond the door, her sleepiness vanished.

She hurried to open it.

"Prince Sylvian," she whispered in surprise.

Without wasting a second, she caught his arm and pulled him inside before closing the door and securing the latch from within.

"Did you travel all the way here in this rain?" she asked, looking at him in disbelief.

"I was supposed to arrive earlier, but something happened to the carriage along the way," Sylvian explained.

He shrugged off his overcoat, which was damp from the rain, and glanced at her.

"Do you have a towel? I need to dry myself."

Iliana quickly nodded, still trying to understand why he had come all the way to her home in such weather.

As Sylvian removed his boots and placed them beside the shoe rack, she took the overcoat from him. The fabric felt cold and slightly damp beneath her fingers.

"Wait here. I’ll get you a towel," she said, turning toward the room.

Yet even as she walked away, her gaze kept drifting back to him, hoping he wouldn’t catch the cold.

Returning with a clean towel, Iliana handed it to Sylvian before making her way to the fireplace. She gathered a few pieces of firewood and arranged them inside, then bent down to rekindle the fire. Once the flames began to catch, she straightened and turned toward him.

Sylvian was busy drying his hair with the towel. He had unfastened his waistcoat, but the shirt beneath it was damp as well, clinging slightly to his skin.

Iliana’s eyes widened when she noticed.

"Why are Your Highness’s clothes drenched?" she asked anxiously. "What about the coachman and your bodyguard? Are they waiting outside?"

"No. They must have gone to a nearby rest house," Sylvian replied, continuing to rub the towel over his hair. "The rain started pouring quite suddenly. I didn’t have an umbrella with me, and I ended up getting soaked after stepping down from the carriage."

He glanced at her worried expression and offered a reassuring smile.

"Don’t worry. No one saw me."

Iliana let out a quiet breath, though the crease between her brows remained.

"You should have waited until tomorrow morning," she murmured, unable to hide her disapproval. "What if you fall ill?"

Sylvian lowered the towel slightly, watching her with a faint smile.

"I wanted to see you. Waiting wasn’t an option."

Iliana’s cheeks warmed at his words. She lowered her gaze, suddenly finding it difficult to look directly at him.

"Um... Would Your Highness like some warm soup? I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything either."

"Yes, I’m famished," Sylvian agreed with a smile.

"Then I’ll prepare something for you." With that, Iliana headed toward the kitchen. "I went to bed early today because I have a lot to do tomorrow. My friend’s wedding is next week, and I’ve promised to prepare the cake along with several other baked goods for the occasion. I need to visit the market early in the morning to buy the ingredients."

She continued explaining her plans as she entered the kitchen, already thinking about what she could prepare for him with the ingredients she had on hand.

Sylvian followed her, walking barefoot across the floor after leaving his boots near the entrance.

"I’ll help you," he announced.

Iliana turned to look at him, surprised. "Your Highness, you don’t have to. You should sit by the fire and warm yourself. And please put on the slippers. I bought a pair for you. They are in the shoe rack."

Sylvian followed her instructions and returned to the kitchen. He washed his hands at the small sink before turning toward Iliana, who was already busy chopping vegetables on the wooden board.

Moving to stand beside her, he watched her hands work with keen interest, as though he were observing something far more fascinating than the preparation of a simple meal.

"I told you to sit by the fireplace," Iliana reminded him, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "What if you catch a cold?"

"I want to learn how to make soup," Sylvian replied without a hint of embarrassment.

"Your Highness doesn’t need to acquire such a skill," she remarked, returning her attention to the vegetables.

"Why not?" He leaned slightly closer to watch what she was doing. "When we’re married, I’ll cook for you, too."

Iliana’s knife paused for a brief moment. A smile spread across her face, but she kept her gaze lowered and continued chopping without offering a reply.

Sylvian watched her for a while before speaking again.

"You smell nice, even this late at night."

"Huh?" Iliana lifted her head and met his gaze, momentarily confused by the unexpected remark.

"Your hair smells nice," he clarified, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Ah, that." Understanding dawned on her face. "I made my own shampoo using rose flowers and a few other ingredients. Perhaps that’s why."

As she spoke, she turned toward the stove and poured water into a small cooking pot.

"Does it always smell like this?" Sylvian asked curiously.

"Not exactly. It depends on the flowers and herbs I use."

He nodded thoughtfully, though his attention seemed to remain more on her than on her explanation.

Iliana could feel his gaze upon her, and the warmth in her cheeks returned. As she lowered her eyes when Sylvian suddenly kissed her cheek.

"I’ll be waiting by the fireplace," he murmured and walked out, leaving her flabbergasted. Her heart hammered wildly against her chest as if it would come at any time.