Chapter 669: Attachment
A tap-tap-tap sounded at the door. Joseph, already in his sleepwear, frowned faintly when he heard a girl's voice say, "Your Highness, there's something I'd like to consult you about."
It was Perna. Eman and Clauzel had already discreetly 'disappeared' the moment she appeared at the cabin stairwell.
Joseph glanced at his sleepwear, then grabbed his cavalry jacket and draped it over his shoulders. "Come in," he called out.
His attire was, strictly speaking, improper, but this wasn't Versailles, so the rigid etiquette wasn't as strictly enforced.
The door opened. Perna, dressed in a crisp white uniform, entered with her head bowed, quickly curtsied, and stammered, "Your... Your Highness, I... I wanted to ask about something..."
She straightened her posture, her voice gaining a little more strength. "The method you used to revive Camelia yesterday—it was called "cardiopulmonary resuscitation" and "artificial respiration," wasn't it?"
Joseph nodded. "Yes, both are components of "cardiopulmonary resuscitation." Beyond rescuing drowning victims, it can also be used for sudden cardiac arrest, shock, and similar emergencies."
"Its primary principle involves..."
Perna suddenly interrupted. "Your Highness, could you teach me cardiopulmonary resuscitation? As a physician, I... I hope to learn."
"This means 120 forceful chest compressions per minute. After 30 compressions, follow with two rescue breaths."
Perna absorbed his instructions intently. "Hands clasped, two fingers above the end of the ribs, then press down."
"And maintain a rhythm. Like this, Your Highness?"
Joseph watched her movements and shook his head gently. "The angle is incorrect. You need to use your body weight to press down. Perhaps you should try practicing on an actual person."
He had been about to call Eman, but Perna had already stepped closer, placing her hand on his chest. "Is it here?" she asked.
Joseph nodded, then simply pulled the mattress onto the floor and lay down. "This is practice," he cautioned, "so you must be gentle. Don't go breaking my ribs."
Perna chuckled, her earlier nervousness fading. She knelt beside the Crown Prince and began practicing chest compressions.
"Ah, ouch... Yes, that's it." Joseph winced, enduring the pressure, but nodded. "You're learning incredibly fast."
"After 30 compressions, you need to breathe air into the patient's lungs. Like this: inhale, pinch the patient's nose with one hand, and cup their mouth with the other. Form a complete seal over their mouth and blow forcefully."
As he spoke, he prepared to sit up. "You can practice this part with your friends—"
Before he could finish, Perna's slender hands appeared before his face.
Two delicate fingers pinched his nose, while her other hand gently parted his lips.
Then, soft, tender lips pressed against his own.
A soft sigh of air.
A gentle breath, carrying a faint, sweet scent, filled Joseph's mouth. It wasn't forceful; instead, it was incredibly tender, imbued with a hint of maidenly shyness.
'Ah, this is—'
Just as Joseph began to speak, Perna lifted her head, took a deep breath, and without hesitation, leaned down again, her rosy lips once more touching his.
Joseph's heart hammered, and he felt a flush of blood rush to his head.
A moment later, the warm lips slowly withdrew. Joseph, in a daze, felt a strange pang of reluctance.
Perna's cheeks were crimson, and she leaned back slightly, yet her emerald eyes remained fixed on the Crown Prince's face.
Joseph cleared his throat. "Ahem, you did very well, exceptionally standard. So, from now on, you'll..."
Perna suddenly spoke. "Your Highness, I'm so happy."
"Oh?"
"Truthfully, all day long, I couldn't stop thinking: 'If only I had been the one to fall into the water yesterday.'"
Perna's gaze grew remarkably resolute. Her fingers tightened on the pocket of her white coat as she confessed, "Though I know my humble origins, I still couldn't help but... fall in love with you.
"From the day you unexpectedly appeared in the kitchen, I've loved you deeply, and I can't extricate myself."
'Er, I...'
"Please, let me finish!" Perna's voice was soft but clear. "I don't ask for anything in return, only to remain by your side forever.
"Especially in that moment just now, I felt my very soul melting. I prayed to God in my heart to make that instant eternal.
"Oh, I don't know what I'm saying, my heart is racing... In short, Your Highness, I beg you, let me always be able to see you, until the day God calls me to Him...'"
Joseph felt a warmth bloom in his chest, perhaps a mere trick of his imagination. Then, memories surged forth unbidden—
The girl before him conscientiously examined him, gently inquiring about his health. She appeared almost every day, silently accompanying him through arduous journeys and smoke-filled battlefields alike. Even with severe seasickness, she had unhesitatingly followed him to sea. He realized he had grown accustomed to her presence in every facet of his life.
He gazed at the girl, then murmured, "Perna, truly, thank you..."
Perna's eyes brimmed, but she offered a sweet smile, then suddenly surged forward, wrapping her arms around Joseph's neck. She closed her beautiful, emerald-like eyes, and her rosy lips, brave and slow, moved forward.
Then, that warm, tender touch came to Joseph's lips. It wasn't artificial respiration, but a gentle, hesitant suction, trembling slightly, as if unsure what to do next.
Joseph felt himself enveloped by boundless tenderness. Instinctively, he reached out, pulled her soft body close, tilted his head, and kissed her back with fervor.
The girl seemed a little nervous; the Crown Prince's kiss was far more passionate and lingering than her own.
Then, she felt her consciousness melt as if by fiery passion, leaving only the Crown Prince's handsome face imprinted in her mind.
Perna clung to Joseph tightly, like a koala gripping a sturdy eucalyptus tree. She whispered into his ear, "Your Highness, I love you, like leaves yearning to fall into the earth's embrace..."
Above the Pyroscaphe, the clouds gently peeled back the curtain of night, chasing the bright moon across the sky.
Hazy moonlight spilled onto the water, as if blanketing the Seine River in a layer of white silk. The Pyroscaphe lay anchored on the river, bathed in moonlight, serene and elegant like an oil painting.
When the dawn light once again illuminated the Pyroscaphe, the brand-new steamship seemed to exude a newfound maturity, entirely different from its usual air. It sounded its whistle, then, brimming with aspirations for the future, slowly glided out of the harbor.
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