Chapter 68 …
My Former Brother-in-Law Wants to Be My Husband
As Preah naturally stepped aside to the right, the man mirrored her movement and stood on her right.
“Excuse me, could you… move a bit?”
Preah lifted her head and, upon seeing the man before her, was left speechless.
Milian was standing there with a beautifully gentle smile, looking right at her.
He spoke softly.
“Are you coming back from the Grand Duke’s residence?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Feeling suddenly awkward, Preah trailed off. She was flustered by the sudden encounter. Seeing him in front of Meshar’s office, it seemed he had been waiting for her.
“What brings you here all of a sudden?”
“I came because I wanted to see you.”
“Wanting to see someone” — was it always this nerve-wracking a phrase? Preah cleared her throat nervously.
“I still have work to do.”
“I know. I came to suggest a date after you’re done.”
“You could’ve sent a telegram for that.”
Rolling her eyes, Preah said this with a touch of sass. She didn’t mean to sound sharp, but she felt inexplicably embarrassed, and her tone came out awkward.
Milian watched her and smiled, looking genuinely cheerful.
Seeing him like that made her uneasy, and she teased him a little.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Just… I thought sending a telegram wouldn’t be enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you have something to say in the future, I’ll come see you in person. So no need to feel embarrassed like this.”
“…!!”
“Then I’ll come get you when you’re done, Cherry.”
Milian said “Cherry” with a playful grin. When Preah didn’t respond, he repeated it as if seeking confirmation.
“There are only three chances—I hope you won’t stand me up.”
“I won’t!”
“See you later.”
Milian lightly kissed Preah’s cheek as she burst out in exasperation.
Preah silently screamed, clutching her cheek and glancing around. Fortunately, no one was passing by.
“I checked that no one was around before I did it.”
“You…!”
“Then really, goodbye.”
Milian gave a faint eye-smile and walked away.
Bishop recalled Milian, who had just visited.
He had come to Meshar during Preah’s absence. Since the schedule had already been shared, Bishop was puzzled and asked why Milian came while she wasn’t around.
“‘The director isn’t here right now.’”
“I know. That’s why I came.”
Milian smiled coolly, surveying the office.
Preah had a separate room. Milian sat on the sofa, staring at her room, waiting for someone. Naturally, Bishop assumed he was waiting for Preah and moved to prepare tea.
Plop.
Muerjer, returning from mopping, dropped the mop mid-step. He didn’t realize it had landed on his own shoes and froze, staring at Milian with a pale face.
Milian greeted him with a gentle smile.
“Long time no see.”
“Y-you, why…!”
“I have something to discuss with you.”
With that, Milian gestured for him to sit in front of him.
Bishop quietly approached Muerjer and whispered.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve met a monster without a weapon.”
“The monster would have been better.”
“Huh?”
Muerjer muttered weakly and sat in front of Milian.
Bishop tilted his head and brought both of them teacups. They seemed familiar with each other.
He cautiously asked, sensing the tension between them.
“Would you like me to step out for a bit if it’s uncomfortable?”
“Would you?”
Milian replied calmly, while Muerjer, trembling, silently pleaded with his eyes for Bishop not to leave. Unfortunately, Bishop couldn’t read that look. Planning only a brief absence anyway, he quickly grabbed his bag.
“I’ll go buy some supplies and be right back.”
A few hours later, Muerjer, pale and dazed, kept mopping the same spot repeatedly. Bishop waved his hands in front of him, but Muerjer didn’t respond.
“Muerjer?”
“They abandoned me…”
Muerjer’s voice quivered as he blamed Bishop.
Bishop tilted his head. From Milian’s demeanor, they seemed very close; he had just stepped aside. He had never seen Milian speak so kindly to anyone else before, so it was understandable.
Bishop calmed Muerjer and asked,
“What happened? Did you somehow upset the Marquis?”
“Upset? …Yeah. Being born was the mistake.”
Tears fell from Muerjer’s eyes, looking utterly defeated.
Bishop stared at someone who was suddenly so self-deprecating. Though usually a little servile, Muerjer had great pride, and now he looked utterly crushed.
At that moment, Preah wandered into the office, looking dazed. Her face was flushed for some reason. She didn’t even greet Bishop and went straight into her room.
Unaware that the curtains in her room were open, she fiddled with her cheeks in embarrassment, then suddenly laughed, got angry, waved her hands in the air—a one-woman show.
Bishop alternated between the self-pitying Muerjer and the dramatic Preah. Today, everyone seemed strange.
Unable to recover, Muerjer was eventually allowed to leave early. Otherwise, he would have only mopped the same spot obsessively.
Preah soon regained focus and did her work, but as the end of the day approached, she suddenly started primping. Constantly checking the mirror, she tried her hair in different styles.
Then someone entered the office.
“Hmm? You’re here again?”
“Shh.”
Milian gestured to Bishop to be quiet and tiptoed toward Preah’s room, where the curtains were still open.
He quietly watched her prepare, then knocked and entered. Bishop tried to peek but couldn’t see as Milian had closed the curtains.
Preah shook her head, scribbled a note that she would leave first, and departed. It had been a day full of oddities.
Preah debated in front of the mirror whether to wear this accessory or that one.
“This one might look too showy… but that one’s too plain…”
While struggling, someone gave a clear suggestion.
“This one matches your outfit better today.”
“Right? That’s what I thought… Hah!”
“Hello?”
Preah instinctively answered, then froze as she recognized the voice. So absorbed in the accessories, she hadn’t noticed Milian beside her.
He smiled brightly at her.
Why does he always smile like that? Preah glared suspiciously.
Milian moved closer to her chair and asked,
“Were you primping to see me?”
“No, I just didn’t like it earlier, so I was changing it…”
“Even your hairstyle is different from before.”
“I messed up my hair by accident…”
“Hmmm… I see?”
Milian’s smile hinted amusement. His lips twitched subtly. He seemed certain she was conscious of him—caught in the act.
Preah cleared her throat and put on the accessory Milian chose, trying to look nonchalant.
“So, where are we going today, Silver?”
It was Preah’s first time knowing Milian’s real name. This was the second meeting. Just one more encounter remained.
“Well… is there anywhere you’d like to go?”
Milian asked politely, following her, still smiling annoyingly.
Preah glanced at him and replied,
“Somewhere with few people, or dark. So no one sees us.”
“Such a place would be fine for me, but it might be inconvenient for you, Cherry.”
“No, it’s perfect!”
Preah was nervous at the thought of being publicly kissed again if they went out.
Milian laughed out loud.
“Then we must go somewhere secluded, just the two of us, as you say.”
“Yes! Very secluded, just the two of us… hmm?”
Preah suddenly realized her words could be misunderstood. Cold sweat ran down her back.
While she scrambled for a solution, Milian said,
“If you want such a private place, Cherry, I have just the one.”
“Wait—no!”
Preah grabbed Milian’s outstretched hand in protest. Her mind screamed alarms.
What is this “private place”?!
She looked at Milian with wide, fearful eyes. Her hand on his was dampening.
Milian calmly spoke to her, his expression serene.
“You’ll like it too, Cherry.”
He smiled warmly and began to drag her along.
Preah clung like someone being dragged to the slaughterhouse, but it was futile. She could have pulled free if she tried—but her body didn’t. Her inaction was entirely instinctive.
