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Chapter 35

Ahibalt’s lips moved again.

“I am curious to know what you think of me as someone you might like.”

“…Oh.”

“I want to hear it. What would you like about me?”

“Are you curious about my opinion? Or, is it an order?”

“The former. I do not want to force your opinion.”

Uttering that, Ahibalt’s gaze descended to an oblique line in a slightly bitter way.

“It is just that I lose my confidence when there are occasions like this. As you know, there is no one who could tell me that. The pretense is more of a specification.”


So, this was a story about trusting Irene, who does not speak empty words.

‘Come to think of it, Ahibalt was a character who distrusted himself.’

In other words, he had low self-esteem.

At times, it felt rather strange. Since if there were anyone closest to perfection, it would definitely be him. In any route, Ahibalt never used more emotions than necessary.

He was calm, even as he stabbed his sword into himself and his beloved lover.

The straight, cut cheeks and facial features were incomparably beautiful, and his voice was full of dignity.

From an early age, he was perfectly educated as a nobleman, and he looked like he would have nothing to do with the criminal gang called ‘Knox.’

However, in this life, having watched Ahibalt since childhood, Irene realized.

He was not a perfect human.

Ahibalt’s well-groomed appearance was something he had created for himself, and he even felt a little obsessed with having everything in place. Anxiety from not believing in himself often caused him to grab his left hand, and he was a picky eater.

There was even a tendency to be obsessed with what he loved.

Even now, he came to her because he could not button the cufflinks.

‘It is a bit too many to pick.’

It would take a little longer if she thought about it, but it seemed that Irene would not be able to sincerely answer Ahibalt’s question if she kept counting this.

With that thought, she quickly got out of her thoughts and changed her mind.

Despite all of his shortcomings, Ahibalt was the kind of person anyone would like.

‘Hmmm.’

Well, first of all…

“You are handsome. You have a nice body.”

At that, he burst into laughter at the direct answer.

Meanwhile, Irene only tilted her head and continued.

“I do not know why you are smiling. I am serious. A person’s appearance determines a lot more than we think.”

“Oh, of course, it is. Though what if appearance does not work with you? All right. For example, what if it is an opponent who cannot see?”

“The First Master has a good voice.”

“People who only talk through handwriting cannot hear my voice.”

“You write well, and also have good manners.”

“If I listen to you, I think I am a very clichéd person with nothing, except for being in good shape.”

Hearing compliments like this in front of you can be embarrassing, although Ahibalt was calm. Besides, he even told an unusual joke.

‘He did not seem to take my words seriously,’ Irene thought.

“If that is the case, I do not think it would be bad for the First Master to just think that I flatter you.”

“Is that so, now?”
​​
“Because it was sincere.”

When Irene replied quickly with a very slight resentment, Ahibalt raised his characteristic loose, yet gentle smile during the day he usually wore.

“Then, I am relieved to hear that.”

“About…?”
​​
“Because it means that I can win your favor just by having a clichéd appearance.”

‘So, even a guy like me can earn your trust.’

Swallowing the following words, Ahibalt looked down at the maid, who gazed up at him silently.

Hair resembling fallen leaves and her purple eyes as clear as a violet…

Would she know that if the blunt-looking little lips shrink a little in doubt, that indifferent face resembles a cat that just woke up from a nap?
​​
Ahibalt remembered the first time he had known her as he watched Irene step away from him and tidy the easel. Somehow, she was strangely good at everything.

This woman, who was as calm as she was…

It was when she was still tying her hair up with her youthful face—the small girl with her long hair tied high.

Most of the time, she was busy dealing with his half-brothers of her age. Ahibalt once passed through the garden and overheard a chattering conversation. To be precise, it was close to one side, unilaterally fighting.

Turning his head, she saw Irene and Otis sitting side by side at the tea table.

— Young Master. Mrs. Meyer said that as a culture, you must master either music or liberal arts.

— That tutor? Tell them I said no to both.

— He also said that if the Young Master came out like that, even the Youngest Master would not receive an education, so he said absolutely no. And, since the Young Master needs to learn respectful usage and intonation, he told you to use respectful words in everyday life, if possible.

At the news that Irene was pouring out, Otis raised his astonishment on his face.

— What? What does Rodion have to do with me?

— Honorific language, Young Master.

— …What does that have to do with me?

— That was good just now.

— I do not care about this. He is him and I am me, so what kind of nonsense is that?

Instead of answering, Irene lifted up the teapot and filled Otis’ cup.

— I am just telling you what I have heard. He said that if the Young Master protested, he would take supplementary classes at tea time starting tomorrow.
​​
— I am going crazy… If he is so impatient with it, I should just learn something. What looks better? What do you think?

— Well… Art? The Young Master does not know how to play an instrument at all.
​​
— Huh? How did you know? I had not picked up an instrument ever since I broke the violin.

— Last time you were playing the music box, the beat did not match at all, so I was amazed.

As she said so, Irene picked up a piece of cloth from a pile about a forearm high on one side of the table and folded it nicely with a few gestures before continuing.

— So, if you had to choose, liberal arts would be better. It is not difficult to write with your hands even if the Young Master does not really have any sense of art.
​​
— What fun do you want me to have when I do not have any talent?

— Besides painting, the field of art is wide. You can make sculptures, embroidery, crafts… The same would be fine.

— I think it would be fun to do something you are doing now.

— What I am doing?
​​

As she questioned back, Otis pointed to the napkin that was gradually blooming in her hand.

— Looks fun, I will try it, too. Just tell me how to do it.

When Otis reached for the napkin, Irene handed it over without refusal. Thus, the two put their heads side by side and began to fold the napkins one by one.

It was not something special, but for some reason, Ahibalt’s feet did not fall off the spot.

In fact, to be honest, it was not the only time.

Being the only one of Otis’s age, Irene was seen hanging out with his brothers all around the mansion.

— When approaching a puppy, first give him a hand so he can smell it.

—Birds get close quickly if you scratch their heads gently. Youngest Master will be able to get to know the bird in no time.

When she helped Rodion get acquainted with the animals kept in the annex…

— The Master said that there is no one who is better than the Young Master when it comes to shooting. They are giving you a reward today.

— Gun cleaning should pay the most attention to wiping off the gunpowder. Otherwise, it is easy to misfire.

Even when Otis started showing his talent for handling guns…

Irene was always by their side.

As if it was quite natural.

Strangely, even the tutor used to listen to this girl’s words as well, so it was probably rather normal, too. The only thing that was not included in the naturalness was Ahibalt, who had been raised as a perfect boy from the beginning.


He did not need a nanny like Irene.

It seemed that there were days when he was pampered in his mother’s arms when he was very young.

‘Well…’

From the day his mother’s funeral took place, Ahibalt was raised in only one direction…

To be the perfect successor.

A child so heartless that even the heartless predecessor of Lavrenti loved him

When Ahibalt’s younger brothers played, holding the hand of the young maid in the mansion, he was already learning Knox’s work.

So, he could not fit in between them…

Never among siblings who could spend an hour just folding napkins.

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