"This is for you." Maeve handed Tom the bag.

Confused, Tom asked, "What is this?"

Maeve explained, "These are medicines to help with burn scar removal. The instructions are on the packages. I consulted a doctor. Since your scars are old, treatment will take longer. However, there's a good chance of removing them, so don't worry too much."

She said this to comfort him. Maeve decided to ask Theo later about completely removing the scars.

Tom's fingertips trembled. He looked at Maeve with mixed feelings. "Why are you being so nice to me?" he asked.

She didn't despise his appearance; she had been comforting and encouraging him. They weren't even close. She had helped him find a house and a job, and sincerely cared for him. He felt he'd received too much from her, things he'd lost because of his disfigurement.

Maeve smiled. "The answer is simple. I'm kind-hearted."

Tom laughed. "Don't be so good to everyone. Otherwise, you'll be handing your weakness to others. They might use it against you."

He worried she trusted others too easily. "Will you use my kindness against me?" Maeve asked.

"I won't," Tom said, as if making a promise. "I will never do so."

The next day, Hudson and Clarissa surprised Maeve by knocking on her door. Unlike yesterday, they didn't rush to Tom. Instead, they observed him from afar with complicated expressions.

Maeve invited them to the reception room. "Why are you here?" she asked.

Hudson said, "Ms. Reese, you're Her Majesty's student, so we'll be frank. The young man you hired is Prince Hosea, the youngest son of the Queen of Erancia."

Maeve had suspected more to Tom's identity. Still, she was taken aback. Prince Hosea was rumored to be talented and virtuous, the next heir to the throne. Originally, the heir was Princess Wren, his older sister, but she'd been injured in a plot years ago and rarely appeared in public. Wren was Loren and Fiora's mother.

Five years ago, Hosea was disfigured in a major accident. His organs were severely damaged, costing him his right to inherit the throne. He then traveled away from Erancia, which is why Maeve had never met him. She was shocked he'd ended up in Setigal with amnesia.

"Are you here to escort him back?" Maeve pondered. "I can't make that decision for him. You have to ask him."

Troubled, Hudson said, "We tried, but he seems to have lost his memory and ignored us. Perhaps he'll listen to you. Can you convince him to go to the hospital with us? We need to help him recover his memory before deciding on the next step."

Maeve hesitated. "Is there a possibility he hasn't lost his memory? He might just be unwilling to face you or his past."

Learning Tom was Prince Hosea, Maeve understood his state better. After the accident, he'd appeared in public veiled. A reporter, however, pulled off the veil, publishing photos of his disfigurement. Hosea was never seen publicly again.

Hudson and Clarissa looked surprised. "Are you saying His Highness is avoiding us?" Hudson asked.

"I don't know him well enough to know what he's thinking," Maeve said. "But if returning to Erancia is painful, are you still going to force him to face his trauma?"

Hudson and Clarissa, who'd intended to enlist Maeve's help, reconsidered. They knew Hosea was unhappy in Erancia, traveling the world and rarely returning. The Queen had sent many bodyguards, but Hosea disappeared on one of his journeys.

They'd initially thought he'd fallen victim to an opposing faction. Now, it seemed he'd purposely vanished to avoid them and his bodyguards.

After Maeve's speculation, they didn't approach Tom. They returned to their hotel and reported to the Queen.

Calmly, the Queen said, "With Maeve watching over him, there's nothing to worry about. Let Hosea do as he pleases. Send more men to protect him from accidents."

Hudson and Clarissa looked at each other in astonishment. The Queen trusted Maeve, not worrying she'd harm Hosea.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Hudson replied. "We won't let His Highness be harmed."

Maeve was unaware of the conversation. Even knowing Tom's identity, she didn't change her attitude. With a bodyguard in the studio, her work progressed well.

Recently, a rich lady, whose daughter had eloped with her first love at her wedding, blamed Maeve for designing a lightweight dress and convertible heels. The daughter ran away in flats, swift as a deer. The groom (in his fifties) and parents were appalled. The rich lady's business plummeted.

Maeve was satisfied but showed no emotion, simply asking Tom to remove the woman. She wouldn't work with such a customer again.

Dreamscape offered three wedding dress customization services: A-tier (high-end), B-tier (affordable), and Top-tier (luxurious). They welcomed all kinds of customers. Another couple fought in the studio over their dress, thankfully stopped by Tom. Maeve and her staff couldn't have handled it alone.

In the evening, Byron picked Maeve up. Before she could fasten her seatbelt, he put his arm around her waist and kissed her passionately, leaving a hickey on her neck. Maeve lay in his embrace, her face burning, ears red, and eyes watery. She glared at him, a glare that looked more like puppy eyes.