Chapter 19
After putting Fleur to bed, the first night shift of work began.
As expected, Morgan hadn’t eaten dinner. Marisel entered the office carrying the evening meal prepared by Paul, just as she had during the day.
“Your Highness, pardon the intrusion.”
Morgan gave only a brief nod and immediately returned his attention to the documents.
Judging by the stacks of paperwork, which didn’t seem much smaller than during the day, it appeared his workload had increased.
‘He really is the epitome of someone buried in work.’
Perhaps it was the downside of working from home—when work and rest are in the same space, it becomes difficult to finish tasks, and the cycle of work never ends.
Parents raising children would find it exhausting for the same reason: there’s no clear boundary between work and rest.
If psychological and physical boundaries are blurred in relationships, the stress is similar. Morgan, though he didn’t show it, must feel significant pressure.
On top of that, the fate of the duchy rested on his shoulders. How heavy must that burden be?
Still, perhaps thanks to his training as a knight, his stamina was exceptional. Even after working through the night, he remained unharmed.
‘Maybe it’s just my poor constitution. That’s enviable.’
Marisel placed the dinner on the table, just like she had during the day.
Tonight’s meal consisted of meat pie, wine, and salad.
Though she wasn’t usually fond of meat pies, this one looked appetizing. The salad was the same as the one Fleur had eaten earlier, and paired with the dressing, it tasted refreshingly sweet and tangy—perfect for a boost during the night.
“Your Highness, how about taking just five minutes to have a quick bite?”
“Leave it there. I’ll eat if I have time.”
Morgan didn’t even glance at her.
“Your Highness, you’re not someone who has time—you’re someone who needs to eat.”
Marisel muttered to herself as she moved the additional stacks of documents to her desk.
‘Yeah, right, as if he has time.’
“Even a knight trained through rigorous exercise isn’t a god. If you don’t eat, you’ll collapse. So please, come eat. Chewing will give you new energy and improve your efficiency. Therefore, I recommend you eat now. The meat pie is still warm. I’m sure it was freshly baked for you. Please, enjoy it.”
As she tried to persuade him, her tone unintentionally became maternal.
She realized it and blushed slightly, noticing Morgan’s reaction—a small, amused smile.
“Are you threatening me with food now?”
“No, Your Highness, it’s only out of concern for you.”
“That insolent look in your eyes…”
Ah, geez.
Marisel felt a bit wronged. He always says ‘insolent,’ yet when she smiled with her eyes, he’d complain about that too. What exactly does he want?
“…Then, Your Highness, what kind of look should I have? Not insolent?”
She curved her eyes into gentle crescents, held a tender light in her gaze as if looking at someone she loved, and smiled beautifully at him.
Thump!
Morgan’s heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, everything around him disappeared, and all he saw was her smiling face.
He shook his head and blinked, bringing himself back to reality, and saw her standing by the desk.
The strange effect left him bewildered. Why did such things happen so often when she was around?
‘Perhaps it’s just hunger making me see things.’
He calmed himself and cleared his throat.
“Ah.”
He tried to act natural, though he had no idea why he was suddenly so flustered.
Marisel noticed his reaction and felt embarrassed, her cheeks reddening.
“Well… I suppose that’s enough.”
“Huh?”
She was completely stunned by his response. So he really wanted her to smile at him like that? Seriously?
‘Life in this rigid social hierarchy is so complicated.’
“Understood…”
Marisel returned to her desk with a frown.
‘Today’s definitely unusual.’
Morgan, still flustered, eventually gave in to her persistence and sat at the table where the food had been placed.
He wasn’t one to enjoy meals, and his natural stamina meant missing a few meals wasn’t a big deal.
But seeing Marisel prepare the meal reminded him that Paul must have requested it, just as he did for Reno.
With Reno, Morgan ate out of annoyance—he didn’t want to hear complaints. With Marisel, it was different: he didn’t mind her fussing, nor did it irritate him.
Working with a woman in the same space was a first for him. Yet he felt no discomfort.
She wasn’t only good at caring for Fleur but also handled document sorting efficiently. Her help was significant.
Morgan watched Marisel quietly work at Reno’s desk.
Her calm pink dress reminded him of her interview, her hair half-tied back, fingers slender as they held the documents.
Though tired, the gentle blush on her fair skin resembled a blooming pink rose. Her long lashes cast delicate shadows, her nose was of perfect height, and her small, closed lips were like a painting.
When she leaned over to examine a document, the purple hairpin she wore caught the light—it was a gift from Morgan.
‘Beautiful. Next time, I should give her something even more beautiful and expensive.’
Seeing his gift shine on her head made him unexpectedly happy.
Then he returned his focus to the documents.
Night of Overtime, Day Three
Seeing little progress, Marisel decided to take a more decisive approach.
From now on, she wouldn’t just sort documents; she would summarize and compare them, making it easy for Morgan to process only the essential points.
Many documents had lengthy introductions with the main points buried at the end.
If she had sticky notes, it would be easier, but lacking them, she asked Paul to prepare blank and colored sheets and clips. Paul generously provided them.
Marisel grouped documents needing comparison separately. Others she summarized on blank sheets and clipped together with the originals to keep them intact.
If a document was hard to summarize or unfamiliar, she only marked where to start reading for Morgan.
When Morgan saw the organized stacks, he was surprised.
With Reno, minor tasks were handled by Reno, leaving Morgan to manage the essentials. Marisel’s method was entirely new to him.
She hadn’t just sorted them; she’d structured them to save time and allow him to work efficiently.
‘She could easily work as a proper assistant…’
Perhaps Reno had noticed this too, which was why Marisel had caught his attention.
When she went to place another stack on his desk, Morgan stopped her.
“Have you done this kind of document work before?”
“No… never.”
“So you came up with this method in the past few days?”
“Yes…”
Marisel hesitated before answering, unsure how much to admit, as in her past life she had experience with similar tasks.
‘It feels like Morgan is praising my skills.’
“Yes, Your Highness, thank you for the compliment.”
She gave a polite bow and a bright smile.
Seeing her smile, Morgan’s heart began racing again.
‘This is maddening… my heart can’t stop racing at any time. I might need a check-up soon.’
