At Chanson de lune beach, Celeste and Charlotte flew side-by-side, their flapping wings stirring the sand beneath their feet. The midday solitude made the sunlight even brighter, the small flower garden swaying gently in the sea breeze.

  “Haha, that was fun! You flew so fast! Next time, I’ll beat you, you’ll see!” Charlotte joked playfully, radiant like the sun.

  “You… really, you’re so eager for fun,” I sighed.

  Charlotte replied with a mischievous, sun-like smile:

  “If there’s a chance, just have fun. Living happily for a lifetime is my motto.”

  “Alright, you’re always the sun of the flock, always mischievous and good at causing trouble,” I happily quickened my pace ahead of Charlotte.

  “Hey!” Charlotte immediately chased after me, and we both soared through the air again, competing in flight.

  Laughter mingled with the flapping of wings in the wind as we flew towards the city, its buildings densely packed together, some people having lunch and resting on their balconies.

  "Hey, fold your wings up right now!" Charlotte called out from behind, drawing everyone's attention.

  I chuckled.

  "Oh my goodness, there are two girls flying overhead!" a lady's voice exclaimed in surprise.

  "What's that? Are they people, or angels?" a young man wearing glasses exclaimed, his glasses slipping off his eyes.

  I immediately flapped my wings and flew away, leaving everyone behind, Charlotte close by. Passing over the buildings, I caught a glimpse of the scene below, the pigeons resting in their cages.

  Several cats slept soundly on the empty benches, behind them the tranquil stream flowed by, and the cheerful chatter of locals echoed from the restaurants.

  “Everyone’s resting now, oh dear, she’s here again. What kind of bird of paradise has such incredible flying ability?” I quickly dodged to the side, causing Charlotte to miss.

  “Hey, that’s not funny!” Charlotte pouted, her face looking like a pufferfish that had just inflated, making me laugh.

  “Okay, I’m sorry, let’s go have lunch now.” I patted Charlotte’s head to soothe her.

  Charlotte immediately cheered up, as if the chaotic scene had never happened. With a bright smile, she took my hand and invited me to come along.

  “Wait, why am I being dragged along?”

  After a while, we stopped at a motel. I realized it was the building Charlotte was staying in. I instinctively looked up; everything seemed fine.

  “What are you looking at? Hurry up, we need a table,” Charlotte’s voice rang out from the reception desk. She seemed to have already made a reservation.

  “Ah, I’ll be right there.”

  Several male and female staff members smiled and bowed to Charlotte. They didn’t bow too deeply, one hand held across their stomachs, their demeanor neat and tidy, much like the staff at Symphonica Realms’ high-end hotels.

  “Welcome back, Miss Charlotte,” they said in unison.

  “Wait, Miss Charlotte?” I paused for a few seconds.

  “Hey Charlotte, did you really buy this place? I thought you were joking last time.”

  Charlotte replied with a mischievous smile,

  “The first lesson in royal financial management is to invest wisely.”

  “I didn’t just buy it, I improved it after negotiating with the previous owner, Sir William Blanchette.”

  I chuckled.

  Before I could recover from my surprise, a mature female employee approached and announced,

  “Miss Charlotte, the table is ready. Please follow me,” her voice was deep, warm, and very much like a senior employee.

  “That’s great, thank you. Let’s go, cousin,” Charlotte replied with a smile to both sides simultaneously.

  Following the employee, we passed through several doors with luxurious patterns and designs, and deep inside the hotel, Charlotte and I entered a high-class restaurant – like a five-star bar, with a few guests still lingering and their conversations unfinished.

  “Work is so demanding these days, the news comes pouring in like a storm,” said a young nobleman, his words a mix of joy and a bit of being overwhelmed. The other seemed to agree.

  “According to you, I’ll get better business deals, but this…” a lady hesitated, considering the businessman’s offers.

  I chuckled to myself.

  The stage was elegantly decorated in deep red, with several large vases of flowers in the corners. Tables were covered with tablecloths, chairs arranged in a triangle, and the glasses, plates, and paper crane-shaped napkins were meticulously arranged.

  The faint scent of wine added to the formal atmosphere; the space was extremely clean, private, and cozy.

  “Your table is over there, in the center of the room.”

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  They both followed, and everyone immediately prepared knives, forks, plates, and menus. Charlotte completely enjoyed the atmosphere. I called a male waiter over; he looked quite young but was very composed and well-groomed.

  “Is there anything you'd like to remind me of, miss?” his voice was clear and polite.

  “I wanted to remind you beforehand that we will not be having any alcohol or eggs when dining here.” I smiled slightly at him.

  “It’s good that you mentioned it early; we’ll take note.” He smiled briefly, bowed, and left.

  Looking at the menu, there were many new dishes from other parts of Chanson de lune: Eastern Beef Bourguignon, Nicoise Salad, Ratatouille, Quiche Lorraine…

  “Charlotte, you removed Foie Gras and Coq Au Vin from the menu?”

  “And Ortolan too, although some restaurants still serve Coq Au Vin,” Charlotte replied calmly, with a touch of pride.

  “Whispering, I just took a really painful hit on the whole nation,” Charlotte said, closing one eye and raising a hand to her lips in a mischievous smile.

  “You… what did you do?!” I was so surprised, a wings almost jumped out of my skin. Charlotte chuckled at my reaction.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down. It was Charlotte, always so full of surprises. Looking around, thankfully, no one seemed to care. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I asked the current royal family to grant permission for Ortolan to be eaten publicly during the bird season.”

  “And then, a ban was issued… right after all the restaurants prepared to stock it.”

  “As a result, the dish was banned, everyone was affected by the law, and I saved many baby birds.” Charlotte said proudly, but in truth, I felt both happy and guilty.

  Looking at the menu again, while proud of Charlotte's achievement, I was also worried. That title, Witch of Calamity, it seems she's never managed to live up to it.

  “I think I’ll have Ratatouille, what about you?”

  “A Beef Bourguignon and an eggless Nicoise Salad for you, sister.”

  Immediately afterwards, Charlotte called a waiter over, several staff members took the order, everything happened smoothly and quickly – like someone who had been in management for years. I was secretly impressed whenever she worked seriously.

  “That’s skillful, but hey, can you tone it down a bit? The Ortolan affair is huge,” I tried to say softly.

  “I’m helping the group, sister. Otherwise, it would be hard to get out of this completely. I’ll tell you the details later,” Charlotte also lowered her voice.

  While waiting, I looked over at the lady's table earlier. Her dignified face was more relaxed; I guessed she had chosen a wise course of action.

  The other person, judging by his attire—a neat black vest, a black tie with white stripes, discreet and tidy on the outside, a silver watch on his right wrist—I was sure he was a teacher inspecting students.

  “That’s Miss Lumière Angelette, she’s beautiful, isn’t she? She’s a regular customer; Angelette and I are academic and business exchange students,” Charlotte said, her voice unusually gentle.

  “Her family and hers have played a significant role in this inn; specifically, four generations of Mr. William’s family have maintained this place.”

  “That’s surprising, Charlotte. Your connections are truly impressive,” I said, visibly surprised.

  Charlotte beamed with pride. The teacher finished tidying up and left. While the food hadn’t been served yet, I approached to greet him.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I’m Celeste Sylphid, Charlotte’s cousin,” I said with a cheerful smile to Angelette, who waved back from her table.

  “It’s alright, I overheard you talking to her… oh, cousin,” Angelette replied with a relaxed yet mature charm, taking a small sip of her apple cider.

  Sitting opposite me, Angelette was completely different from how she appeared from afar, like a radiant rose in full bloom. Her elegant reddish-brown evening gown hugged her waist, accentuating her graceful and refined figure.

  The delicate lace was like rose petals, her light brown hair was neatly styled, her lips were painted with sweet red lipstick, and her wine-red eyes and eyeliner accentuated her sharp features.

  “You’re absolutely stunning. Who designed this outfit?”

  “Are you a fashionista? This gorgeous dress… was made by a calico cat,” Angelette said, almost bursting into laughter.

  I chuckled to myself.

  I struggled to suppress the pride welling up inside me. Angelette leaned back, enjoying herself, her lips curving slightly in amusement. I returned her smile.

  "I'm actually Seamstress, but who was that just now?"

  "He's a tutor my father hired so I can work and study business at the same time." Angelette averted her gaze, a hint of annoyance flashing across her face.

  "That doesn't sound quite right, especially for a lady with such a good background," I said softly, politely to Angelette.

  Angelette smiled with interest. Charlotte gently called me back to the table, and I bowed, excused myself.

  “You’re very good at soft skills, and very pleasant too. Now I understand why that cat behaves that way.”

  “Let’s exchange knowledge occasionally; it’s more interesting than those rigid tests.” Angelette smiled slightly, gently shaking her glass of water.

  “That would be wonderful, thank you very much, Miss,” I replied happily.

  A few minutes later, a group of waiters appeared with trolleys, the fragrant aroma of stewed meat and vegetables wafting through the air, along with the steaming hot dish.

  Ratatouille was neatly arranged on a plate, the rich and flavorful Beef Bourguignon topped with parsley, a spoonful of skillfully prepared mashed potatoes, and a separate baguette.

  A delicious Nicoise salad was divided equally, prepared with professionalism and years of experience.

  “Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said before leaving.

  “Let’s eat, it’s a feast.”

  In the private room, the staff stood looking out, the trolley stopping midway.

  “The hostess’s guest is so clever, revealing her preferences so early, how convenient,” a well-dressed male staff member whispered.

  “She was recognized by Angelette, right from the first try,” a female staff member said softly, her words tinged with admiration.

  As the knife sliced ??through the meat, the cut was effortless, the inside tender and juicy, a dish cooked with patience, preparation, and love.

  “Chefs at Chanson de lune are always so passionate about their craft.”

  “I’ll take that compliment into consideration, thank you,” Charlotte replied cheerfully while enjoying her meal.

  Taking a bite of the meat on her fork, the richness and intensity immediately spread through her mouth. The flambé was excellent, the texture of the meat was impressive, and the rich sauce elevated the dish.

  “It’s a shame that this Beef Bourguignon only receives… average praise,” I said casually.

  “And what kind of wine do you serve here?”

  “It’s usually Cognac here; average is fine too. Food critics are just exaggerating,” Charlotte chuckled.

  We both enjoyed the meal. I tried the Ratatouille, the neatly arranged vegetables with the gravy drizzled around them – like a painting, minimalist yet sophisticated. The moment I took the first bite, I felt like my fork had slipped from my hand.

  “Compared to before, this dish seems to have been elevated to a whole new level… what’s so funny?”

  “Oh, my dear cousin, most people who eat it don’t praise it like that.” Charlotte chuckled secretly, as if hiding the story behind it.

  “It would be better if you didn’t praise it or ask who elevated it at Chanson de lune.” Ignoring Charlotte’s gleeful laughter, I continued to enjoy the meal.

  I looked at the Nicoise Salad; the vegetables were fresh, the presentation beautiful, the dressing delicately blended, the seasoning just right, and the tuna with good texture.

  “The food here is delicious, Charlotte, and the presentation is very artistic.”

  “The Nicoise Salad is probably the best summer salad ever,” I complimented softly.

  “I’m sorry, but just thinking about it makes me laugh so hard.” Charlotte calmed down after her hearty laugh.

  Charlotte and I enjoyed our meal. Charlotte also stopped teasing, and time passed. The meal was over, and we both used napkins to wipe our mouths and neatly put away the dishes for the staff.

  “Thank you so much for lunch, Charlotte.”

  “Would you like something to drink?” Charlotte cheerfully replied.

  “Thank you, but I don’t need anything yet.”

  Soon after, the staff came to clear the table. My heart was filled with a sense of peace. Although I’ve been to many luxurious, high-end, and even simple places, this feeling was truly different – ??very Charlotte-esque.

  “I’m going to see Marinette now, and while I’m at it, I’ll check out some new outfits.”

  “Oh, right, the key to the Excursion Gate, I was so busy working I forgot to give it to you.”

  I suddenly remembered, opened my magic circle, took out a golden key, and handed it to her.

  “Did you really forget or are you deliberately hiding it?”

  “And by the way, I need a mirror and some water,” I said tactfully.

  “It’s in that secluded corner over there; you can ask a staff member for directions.” I followed Charlotte’s directions.

  A little while later, I walked out of the room, wearing a more comfortable dress, a light layer of lipstick on my lips, my long, dark blue hair tied up high with my favorite pearl necklace.

  “Truly a flower that loves to show off its beauty,” Charlotte teased, admiring me.

  “So elegant, such beauty and long hair… oh, she’s made my heart skip a beat,” a young man exclaimed as he walked past, his voice full of romance, his hand outstretched as if in a play.

  I chuckled to myself.

  “Please keep that sweet heart for romantic words, so that you may be overflowing with love,” I replied with a song I had made up myself, while taking his hand.

  Immediately, applause and compliments filled the dining room. I pulled up my skirt and bowed, and the young man bowed as well.

  “Thank you very much, miss, it’s just…” he said shyly, his eyes averting.

  “It’s alright, I’m Celeste Sylphid, and you?” I smiled gently to reassure him.

  “Alfrey Losalte of the Sonna Opera, that appearance… is she a royal princess?” I didn’t answer, only nodded gently, and winked at Charlotte.

  Alfrey and everyone in the dining room were surprised. His dark eyes showed a hint of shyness, always drawn to my long hair.

  “You want to touch my hair? It’s beautiful, I understand, don’t be shy, come on.” I stroked my hair and held it out in front of him.

  Alfrey extended his hand in front of everyone, shy, hesitant, and somewhat trembling, unsure whether to do it or not. I gently took his hand and led him to an empty table, letting him feel my hair.

  “It’s so soft and smooth, and smells so good, but why?” Alfrey said, stroking and enjoying the scent of my hair.

  “Because if I didn’t let you, you’d go down a different path. Feel my hair, artist.” I winked, signaling everyone not to do anything.

  “Thank you, Princess, it is truly an honor for me.”

  Alfrey continued to enjoy the touch of my skillful hands, his fingertips slightly rough and with distinct lines, seemingly the work of a playwright, someone who often held a pen.

  Looking at those hands, I remembered the times my friends had touched my hair, each one differently, even creating different styles, the playful jokes and feminine intentions.

  “This hair… its smoothness is impressive, but what did you mean by ‘another path’?”

  “Ah, just limiting bad scenarios for you, don’t worry,” I smiled at him.

  “Thank you for letting me enjoy your hair, I shouldn’t have,” he placed my hair back on his shoulder, his face and demeanor much more relaxed.

  With hesitant greetings and promises, Alfrey bowed deeply and departed, feeling elated and filled with positivity, inspiration, and hope.

  Immediately afterward, the room erupted in a torrent of praise, like a storm brewing from the Storm Dragons. From afar, Charlotte ordered a glass of water and raised it to me.

  “So exquisite, so skillful, the princess is so talented,” a middle-aged man’s voice rang out, full of joy and admiration, mingling with resounding applause.

  “Unbelievable, the princess is so clever, so intelligent,” a lady’s voice chimed in, clearly impressed.

  “What a beautiful Fantasia, Alfrey is so lucky,” a gentleman’s voice added from afar.

  The applause and praises continued incessantly, and I smiled with happiness and pride.