Joseph looked at the pitiful girl in front of him and shook his head slightly, feeling a deep sense of empathy. He recalled a quote he had once read in Maugham's work, attributed to the monk Lewis: "I despise, pity, and scorn all female writers. Their hands should hold embroidery needles, not pens. The needle is their proper tool" (Note 1).
Even in the 18th century, won's status remained very low. Even in France, the birthplace of the Enlightennt, won were not allowed to engage in professions like writing, dicine, or law, nor could they own bank accounts. Society kept them firmly bound within the confines of the ho.
As soone from the 21st century, Joseph naturally didn't agree with such views. But the dozen or so people around him all had strange looks on their faces as they gazed at Perna, as if a woman aspiring to be a surgeon was sothing utterly improper.
Even Crozade wore a helpless smile, the kind soone might show when seeing a child being mischievous. Perna's determination reminded him of his rebellious sister, who insisted on studying law.
But his smile only made Perna feel even worse. She had had enough of n's mocking and dismissive smiles! For a mont, she had hoped that this Prince, praised by Professor Lagrange and with such broad dical knowledge, might have a more enlightened view. But Crozade's attitude easily shattered that fragile hope.
Perna tried to hold back her tears as she thought, The Prince must think the sa way as them. But then, Joseph walked up to her, his voice full of encouragent:
"Dissection is the foundation of dicine. I fully support your practice in this area. Keep it up!"
Perna was stunned, her clear green eyes filled with disbelief. "Your Highness?"
Joseph picked up the dissecting knife from the floor and said with a cheerful smile, "Soone like you, with ideals and the courage to pursue them, is bound to beco a great doctor in the future."
"But I..." Perna didn't expect the Prince to actually support her, and she began to stutter. "But I'm a woman. Your Highness, do you really think won can be doctors?"
"Of course," Joseph replied, handing the knife back to her with a nod. "Being a doctor is just a profession. Won are fully capable of doing it. If I were to fall seriously ill one day—oh, I an, just hypothetically—the person who saves my life could very well be Dr. Perna.
"And if I have the opportunity, I might even push for legislation to allow won to practice dicine."
"Oh, Your Highness! For Heaven's sake, please tell you really believe that! You're not mocking , are you?"
"Of course not," Joseph said sincerely, nodding again.
Perna's heart suddenly raced. If soone as noble as the Prince supported her dreams, what did she have to worry about? Could it be that her dream could really co true?
"I've never heard anyone speak like you," she murmured, gazing at the Prince as if in a dream. Everything around her seed to fade away, leaving only the Prince, shining brightly like an angel in a Raphael painting—so perfect and pure.
Suddenly, she covered her face and began to sob quietly, her tears washing away the years of frustration and the joy she felt at this mont.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Joseph gently patted her on the shoulder and was about to comfort her further when his stomach let out an untily growl.
Perna froze for a mont, then couldn't help but giggle. She asked softly, "Your Highness, did you co to the kitchen for a late-night snack?"
Joseph, feeling a bit embarrassed, looked around and said, "I was hungry, but the chefs seem to have disappeared, so it looks like I ca here for nothing."
"The chefs... might be out fetching ingredients for tomorrow," Perna said, trying to cover for them, though she suspected they were probably napping. After all, she herself had often taken quick naps during late-night shifts.
"If you don't want to wait..." Perna hesitated, blushing as she spoke, "I could make sothing for you?"
She looked nervously at the Prince, fearing he might laugh at her.
"That would be great," Joseph said, nodding with a smile. "Thank you."
Fortunately, the palace kitchen fires never went out, and all the ingredients were already prepared. Perna quickly washed her hands and set to work at the stove. In less than 20 minutes, a plate of fragrant red wine-braised foie gras was placed on the small table used by the chefs for tea, alongside a bowl of beetroot and tomato soup.
Crozade, ever vigilant, tasted each dish to ensure it was safe, then stepped back to his position.
Joseph, whose stomach had been growling in hunger, was drawn in by the aroma and eager to dig in. He picked up his utensils but noticed Perna standing awkwardly to the side. He waved her over.
"Co, join ."
Perna shook her head, smiling shyly. "Thank you, Your Highness, but I'll pass. Please, try the food and see if it's to your liking."
Seeing the large portion of foie gras on the plate, Joseph didn't hesitate to divide it in half and pull her into the seat beside him.
"It wouldn't be right for you to do all the work and then just watch eat," he said with a grin. "Besides, I can't let France's first female doctor go hungry."
Perna's face turned crimson, and she shyly picked up her fork and knife.
Joseph took a bite of the golden-brown foie gras, paired with a slice of black truffle, and his mouth was filled with the unique, rich flavor. The crispy outer layer gave way to the tender, almost lting foie gras, leaving Joseph savoring every bite.
After swallowing a large piece, he praised, "This is amazing! If you don't beco a doctor, you could definitely have a successful career as a chef!"
"Really?" Perna's eyes lit up with joy. "I learned this from Mr. Walister in my spare ti."
Joseph cut another piece of foie gras and, holding it up, said, "To thank you for this al, I've decided to give you a gift."
"No, no, just knowing you enjoyed the food makes happy. I couldn't accept anything more," Perna quickly said.
"Don't be shy," Joseph insisted with a smile. "The clothes you wore while practicing dissection are long and cumberso. I'll have a special doctor's uniform made for you. It might even beco standard across the country, so think of it as helping out by trying it first."
Perna's face turned even redder, and she lowered her head, murmuring, "Thank you, Your Highness."
...
The next morning, Perna ca to check on the Prince as usual, carrying her dical kit. But today, she hadn't applied the usual dull powder to her face, and her lips were their natural color, making her look fresh and healthy, with a clear, natural beauty.
She approached Joseph, placed the kit down, and curtsied before asking, "Your Highness, does your throat still hurt?"
"It's much better, just a little bit now."
"Are you still coughing?"
"Occasionally, but not much."
"Do you have any phlegm?"
"A little."
She carefully noted everything down, then glanced up at the Prince's handso profile. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought, The Prince is so handso. How did I not notice before?
Her face turned red, all the way to her ears.
Note 1: From "Reading is a Portable Refuge," a work by W. Sorset Maugham (January 25, 1874 – December 16, 1965).
(End of Chapter)
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