Chapter 12: I Don’t Like Him, But I Keep Looking at His Face
Mio had answered with difficulty, but Geoffrey didn’t seem to care much. Clenching her fists over her dress, her body shook.
I have to hold on.
If she showed even the slightest displeasure, all her lies would be exposed. Bowing her head deeply and taking a deep breath, her heartbeat slowly began to settle.
I’ve made it through the first hurdle.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the interior of the study came into view. For a ducal study, it was surprisingly simple—just densely packed bookshelves and a towering pile of papers on the desk. Looking around, Geoffrey finally spoke.
“What did I say again?”
Mio remembered his words about needing to look someone in the eyes when speaking, and hurriedly lifted her head. Her gaze met Geoffrey’s, still clutching the curtains. There was something unusual in his expression; his face looked a little pale. His shirt was rumpled, and the fatigue was evident.
He has a beard now.
It was the first time she had seen him look so disheveled, and she found it hard to look away. His eyes seemed deeper than usual, and there was a strange aura about his face. Mio’s gaze drifted down to the open chest of his undone shirt. Unconsciously, she swallowed hard and let out a small gasp.
“I know you’re handsome, but that look is… a bit overwhelming.”
“Ah, that’s…”
“You look like you could just swallow me whole.”
Ugh.
Mio hastily wiped her mouth and quickly turned her head. She had read that he was cold and calculating, but she hadn’t expected him to have such a princely arrogance. And she felt justified in her reaction.
Anyone would naturally be drawn to something sparkling and beautiful!
When she looked away, Geoffrey quietly fastened the buttons of his shirt and muttered:
“Don’t you know embarrassment?”
“I… I’m just your fan, Your Grace…”
Whispering in a tiny voice, she watched as he shrugged slightly and sat down. When Geoffrey picked up a stack of papers, Mio’s eyes widened in surprise, not understanding what he was up to. He didn’t even look at her as he answered:
“I called you here because I’m busy.”
“If you’re busy, I can leave.”
She was already missing her bed, longing for the comfort she had left behind. Geoffrey lightly tapped the desk.
“Stay. I need to observe my guests with my own eyes.”
It sounded like he was simply attending to a guest properly, but in reality, he meant to watch her closely. Watching his unwavering suspicion, Mio forced herself to maintain a smiling face, though her lips trembled.
“From now on, unless there’s an external appointment, we’ll have lunch together.”
“No—”
She blurted it out before she could even think, the thought of sitting across from Geoffrey for a meal making her stomach turn. Smiling at her reaction, Geoffrey toyed with his silver-framed glasses.
“Eating with guests is an old Caspian tradition. I thought you’d like it. Don’t you?”
The way he seemed to be teasing her made cold sweat trickle down her back.
“I’m too nervous. I don’t think I can eat in front of you, Your Grace…”
Her voice trembled along with her stomach, and the corners of her lips quivered.
“Then that’s something you must overcome yourself.”
With that, Geoffrey fully immersed himself in the papers. Mio glared at the towering piles of documents, her face contorting.
Is that all? Just talk about yourself?
She timidly glared at him, but Geoffrey didn’t give her a shred of attention.
What exactly am I supposed to do here? Am I supposed to just admire him working?
Looking around in despair, she realized the room was filled only with books.
I’ve had enough of books…
She had spent her life reading, and it was books that had led to this misery. Her mind wandered to the cramped dormitory she used to live in, where even a small desk for her laptop creaked with every move.
I liked the smell of the wood.
Mio reached out to touch the wide, sturdy wooden desk, letting out a short sigh. Putting her in this room must have a purpose.
He wants to torment me, doesn’t he?
But she wasn’t about to give in so easily. She wheeled her chair closer to the bookshelves. There were books on politics, history, and economics—just looking at the titles made her sleepy. Moving them aside, she found volumes on tactics and weaponry.
Does he only read these kinds of books?
Then, glancing higher on the shelf, she spotted familiar titles.
…“Tom and the Apple Tree,” “The Hen That Laid Golden Eggs.”
These books didn’t match the cold Geoffrey at all, but at least they were readable. She reached for the shelf but the books were too high to grasp. Clutching the armrest of the chair, her legs trembled under her.
“Just a little more—”
At that moment, a cool breeze brushed past, and a shadow fell across the bookshelf. She felt a familiar presence behind her.
“Is this it?”
His large hand covered hers as she reached for the book. When Geoffrey’s palm touched the back of her hand, her shoulders instinctively hunched. Being almost cradled like that, she couldn’t help but be conscious of him.
“I-I’m fine now.”
Her heart raced so wildly she forgot what she had intended to read. Goosebumps prickled her skin, and her throat was dry and scratchy.
“Here. Take it.”
Ignoring her words, Geoffrey placed the book against her chest, causing her hand to slip from the shelf and her body to wobble.
“…Oops.”
Her head brushed slightly against his chest. Holding the book, he gently grasped her shoulders and waist, whispering lowly:
“You still say you don’t need treatment? You can’t even stand properly.”
Despite the obvious provocation, Mio couldn’t get angry. Her voice was completely caught up in consciousness of Geoffrey. Her mind felt dazed, her thoughts scattered.
Why is this happening?
Being held by him made her tremble, yet there was an inexplicable sense of longing. The thought terrified her, so she tried to push him away forcefully.
“Thank you for the book, Your Grace.”
“Are you crying?”
“N-No.”
But her voice sounded too muffled to be believed.
“Is it because you dislike being like this?”
Unable to respond, she clutched the book tightly. Geoffrey lowered his head deeply, clearly mistaking her tears as affection.
“Do you like me that much?”
Mio thought: Oh no… this is the worst.
But she couldn’t argue now, and a headache began to press in.
“I’m truly your fan, Your Grace.”
Finally speaking, her sense of self-disgust overwhelmed her. Satisfied, Geoffrey immediately released her and returned to the desk, shuffling through papers. Had she not gripped the chair tightly, she would have fallen.
…What the hell!
Pretending to be helpful by supporting her from behind and helping her get the book—what a trick. Geoffrey was still Geoffrey.
And yet my heart races for him…
She sat back down, teeth grinding, determined to endure. Opening the book, she realized it wasn’t the one she had intended to read.
Of course.
The cover depicted a woman sitting by the sea, weeping.
I don’t really want to read this…
The story paralleled the original she had been immersed in: “Twist Your Neck, Take You.” Both involved a woman dying because of love.
“…Sigh.”
With nothing else to do, she slowly turned the pages.
The story was familiar. The mermaid fell in love with the prince at first sight. Just like the fox, who harbored strange feelings for Geoffrey for sparing her in the forest.
The mermaid gave her voice to the sea witch in exchange for human legs, but could no longer speak.
I gave up everything just to stay near Geoffrey.
The mermaid saved the prince from drowning, and the fox saved Geoffrey during an ambush. Yet the prince and Geoffrey mistakenly fell for other women, not their saviors.
Both of them are so foolish.
Reading toward the ending, Mio felt her chest tighten. What she thought would be a predictable story brought tears to her eyes. When the mermaid became foam and scattered into the air, she could no longer hold back her tears.
If I turn away from Geoffrey now, I could survive.
Someone whispered to the fox before her death—run far away, go somewhere without Geoffrey.
But the fox did not.
Anywhere without Geoffrey has no meaning.
Without regret, the fox leapt into the flames to protect Geoffrey, making a sacrifice no one would know. The fire slowly engulfed her.
“…Hic.”
Closing the book, Mio bowed her head, struggling not to make a sound. Death was horrifying. No matter how many times she faced it, it never felt familiar. Her shoulders shook as she cursed her cruel fate.
What is all this for?
After rubbing her eyes, she looked up.
“…Ah.”
Geoffrey, whom she thought was absorbed in papers, was watching her. Light reflected off his silver glasses, and through the lenses, his gaze was full of curiosity. Mio quickly turned her head, her heart pounding fiercely again.
Damn this imprint.
None of this was by her own will. Clutching her chest, she believed that without doubt.
