Chapter 89………………………………………
“Miss Joyce asking me out first… I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
At my promise to take him somewhere nice, Peredil followed after me immediately, practically wagging his tail. It had been a while since we’d gone out on a proper date like this. He tried to act normal, but I could clearly see how excited he was.
“I feel like I’ve always only been the one receiving from you, Duke. So today’s date… I planned everything. All you have to do is relax and enjoy.”
“A woman escorting me, huh. Just how much more are you trying to make me fall for you? I’m already completely in love.”
He lifted the back of my hand and kissed it.
Now that peaceful daily life had returned, Peredil and my relationship was going smoothly. No more headaches, no more worries—only his steady days filled with warm, direct expressions of affection, almost overflowing.
“Did you really look all this up yourself… for me?”
“I told you, I did.”
Hehe. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I’d prepared thoroughly to treat him to a full course.
Just… the course I prepared was a full course designed to make him lose interest in me.
He, smiling brightly without a clue, didn’t notice my sly grin at all.
Please, let his feelings drop instantly.
My hand tightened around his. It had been a long time since I’d set up a meeting with the intention of manipulating someone’s emotions—since the days I first tried to seduce him. I couldn’t help feeling nervous.
Still, at least this time I was trying to cool his heart down, not ignite it.
After all, making someone dislike you has to be easier than making them fall in love… right?
With my mind racing, I led him to the restaurant I’d already scouted out.
“Shall we go in?”
He politely pulled out my chair, and I sat down, reminding myself again of my dark plan.
Now begins the operation: Make him lose affection.
I sat quietly, staring at the menu for a long time.
“You’re taking a long time deciding today. Normally you pick what you want like you received some kind of divine revelation.”
What kind of revelation is he even talking about…?
“…Don’t tell me you don’t feel like eating anything?”
Peredil looked genuinely worried, which was embarrassing. It almost annoyed me too—like he was teasing.
He was right. Normally, I never hesitated over food.
Normally.
“Well… I can’t decide easily. Will you choose for me?”
“Then how about shrimp cream pasta? You usually like shrimp.”
“Sounds good.”
Satisfied, he looked back down to choose his own meal. Just as he was about to signal the waiter, I stopped him.
“Wait!”
“Why?”
“Ah… actually, shrimp doesn’t really sound good anymore. I feel like I’ve eaten too much of it lately…”
“Really? Then what do you want?”
“Who knows?”
I shrugged like it wasn’t my problem.
He studied the menu again, sincerely trying to pick the best option for me.
“Then steak tomato risotto. You like meat as much as seafood.”
“Alright, then.”
The waiter approached. Peredil pointed confidently.
“I’ll have this, and the lady will have the steak—”
“Wait!”
I held up my hand dramatically, stopping him mid-order.
He stared at me, completely baffled.
“Why?”
“I think I might want shrimp… but also steak…”
I trailed off, glancing at him nervously.
His smile disappeared.
He looks mad… yes! Success!
I kept tilting my head, pretending to be indecisive, waiting for him to snap.
“Could you just say clearly what you want?”
His voice dropped.
He’s angry! He’s angry! Yes!
He shut the menu with irritation.
But then—
He suddenly chuckled.
“You’re always like this. If you want both, just say so. Is it because you feel bad asking? I know how much you love eating. Spending money on you is never a waste, so just tell me comfortably.”
He interpreted it however he wanted, ordered three dishes, and dismissed the waiter.
Then he looked at me with honey-dripping eyes again.
…Miscalculation.
I thought he’d hate fickleness, but he just thinks I’m a food-obsessed person!
After the meal, I moved to the second plan.
“Hmm…”
“What now?”
“The food is delicious, but the portions aren’t that big.”
“If you want more, I’ll call the waiter.”
He signaled immediately.
The waiter rushed over.
“Do you need something?”
“Please give me the gnocchi.”
“…Excuse me? The gnocchi?”
“Yes. The gnocchi.”
“I’m sorry, miss, but we don’t have an item called ‘gnocchi’—”
“What do you mean? I clearly saw it written on the menu!”
The waiter hurried away to bring the menu.
When he returned, I pointed proudly.
“See? Right here. Gnocchi.”
“Miss… do you perhaps mean nyo-kki (gnocchi)?”
I froze, pretending I didn’t know.
The waiter awkwardly smiled and left to prepare it.
Perfect.
Second operation: Act ignorant.
Surely that would make him lose affection?
“Haha… I really thought it was ‘geu-nok-chi.’”
Not knowing isn’t a crime, but being confidently wrong is pretty unbearable, right?
I tested him.
“You must’ve been embarrassed because of me.”
“I thought it was gnocchi too.”
“…R-really?”
“Yeah. I was frustrated the waiter didn’t understand. I swear I saw ‘gnocchi’ on the menu.”
Ah…
So his expression earlier wasn’t embarrassment—it was irritation at the waiter.
…Unbelievable.
Fine.
If I had to go this far…
When the gnocchi arrived, I decided to use my ultimate move.
Eating like a complete mess.
I shoveled it in greedily, getting more sauce around my mouth than in my mouth.
For the first time today, genuine disgust flickered across his face.
Yes! Finally!
“Joyce. That’s enough.”
This time it’s real.
His brows were deeply furrowed.
“What?”
He picked up a napkin, gently held my face, and wiped my mouth thoroughly.
“Slow down. No one’s stealing it. I’m worried you’ll choke.”
…This ridiculous, unshakable love.
His rose-colored glasses are practically welded on.
Defeated, I asked:
“Duke… don’t you feel anything seeing me eat like this?”
“I do. I’m worried you’ll choke.”
“Not that. Like… finding me less attractive…”
“Not at all.”
Then he countered:
“Would you lose attraction to me if I mixed rice into leftover sauce?”
Peredil doing that in a restaurant…
…That might actually be kind of cute.
I imagined it and smiled without meaning to.
Ah! I can’t fall for him again!
But he’d already noticed and grinned smugly.
“See? It’s not the behavior. It’s who’s doing it.”
We left the restaurant, and in the end, I was the only one who looked like a fool.
But it was too early to give up.
It was still early evening.
Far too soon to end the date.
This time, I took his hand and headed toward the opera house. He liked music, after all.
After a satisfying performance, we walked out into the street.
Then I suddenly stopped.
Noticing, he turned back and came to me.
“What is it? Are your feet hurting?”
He reached for my shoulder, but I slapped his hand away.
His startled expression was obvious.
Then I shouted sharply:
“Duke! You kept sneaking looks at the heroine’s legs earlier, didn’t you?”
