Chapter 49 - His Confusing Actions (1)

Chapter 49 – His Confusing Actions (1)

Gris supposes that she could choose to ask Duke Vianut directly her questions.

Stephan glanced back at Gris, and saw the look of frustration painted on her face; he surmised she was dissatisfied with that reason, nonetheless, Stephan continued speaking.

“From now on, you will keep on attending your classes, so please change your clothes. I will invite my friends to come over within a few days, so take your classes seriously so that you can project a good image to them.” Stephan told her and Gris remained silent, she knew he wasn’t done talking to her yet.

“Oh… and your soon-to-be-husband will also come.” He told her nonchalantly. He interpreted her silence as her understanding of his conditions, and that she would comply with them.

He gave her one last look before proceeding to leave her room. As soon as Stephan managed to step out of the room, Bellin came in and rushed to help Gris change and prepare for the day.

Bellin had faithfully informed her of all the happenings in the mansion but she was not able to absorb all the news. She remained in silence all the while, lost in her own thoughts. What was going to happen to her now?

Gris was so engrossed with the news of the impending arrival of her soon-to-be-husband to be focused on anything else. It seemed that everything would happen according to Stephan’s plan if she would do nothing. If she does not fight him, he will win over her.

But what could she do? Gris wondered what she should do to stop Stephan from winning. But her thoughts seemed aimless and she could not find an answer, instead she decided that she should first go and visit the artwork store. So that if Stephan’s friends ever come and visit, she and her soon-to-be-husband could be out of their way.

There were a myriad of thoughts running in her minds as Gris was dressing, and even after she had finished it seemed like she could never form a coherent idea on what courses of action she should take without her head ending up on the ground. After she was finished dressing, she soon stepped out of her room to begin the day. As soon as she and Bellin left the room and went out to the lobby, she came across Duke Vianut and Quentin, who was about to climb the stairs.

Quentin, who smiled amiably every time he saw her, brusquely kept an eye on the stairs. On the other hand, the blue eyes of the Duke which was always filled with wariness were rather enveloped with zest now.

Gris supposes could understand why they had given her such responses. He gave her such a look because she refused the chance to serve him for a night during his rise in status. But she was baffled as to why a man like him would choose to ask a prostitute.

Until now, it seemed he hasn’t found a logical reason why she refused to serve him, so Gris supposes that her behavior might have piqued his curiosity and so he seemed interested in her now. Gris was about to tilt her head in a different direction and avoid the two, but he called her in a languid voice.

“Yuliana.”

Quentin raised his two eyebrows, not knowing that Duke Vianut would take the initiative to talk to a prostitute. Gris did not have a reason to escape and stood one foot in front of him as she bowed her head.

“Your Highness.”

Vianut found it rather delightful as well as funny to see Gris exercising formality before him, like a real aristocrat would. He spoke to her while his long, clean hands touched his nape.

“Big brother.”

It was a command telling her to call him brother instead, seeing Gris hesitate at his words he then chuckled.

Like a small animal being hit, Gris felt bullied by his actions and so she softly bit her lower lip to prevent herself from saying something she may regret. She wanted to quickly escape, not having any interest to speak with him or play with his games. She spoke in an urgent voice.

“Big brother, I have to go now to my class, it is almost time.” She told him meaningfully and Duke Vianut nodded at her in reply, passively letting her go.

Just as Gris felt relieved that he had allowed her to escape him, it seemed like he was trying to squeeze her to death by cornering her in moments she least expected.

“Meet me in the garden later.” He told her as soon as she passed him by, and Gris heart started to pound loudly inside its ribcage, she could not help but glance back at him and met with his gaze.

“We will take a walk.” He told her before turning his back and walking on his way.

Gris thought bitterly that perhaps it was Vianut’s habit to think of ways to scare her.

***

The cultural class ended easier than she had thought. Probably because she had already been applying the etiquette of the aristocrats since she was young.

While Gris was preparing for her next class, Quentin dropped by the classroom. Gris eyed him as he approached and could not help but note that it was rather strange to see Quentin in armor even though there was no exhibition. She realized it too late that he came from his training. All morning he must have been busy getting acquainted with the weight of his sword to be more comfortable to use the weapon to kill… She felt goosebumps that rose all the way to her neck due to the sound of the iron’s friction, it sounded like a blade getting sharpened.

“Duke Vianut would like to call you.” Quentin told her as soon as he was close enough.

Gris’s heart sank at his words.

She thought that something must have happened. Gris bitterly wonders what creative ideas and effective ways to drain her blood he has come up with now? With every anxiousness she felt rise with each second, she wanted to avoid him at all costs, but it seems her future was set in stone and she could not fight her destiny.