I waved my arms in the air as if to dispel the memories of that day that were clouding my mind.
“Madam…? Are you all right?”
“Huh? It’s nothing.”
I smiled softly at Vivi, who was looking at me with concern.
‘Get a grip!’
I was just momentarily flustered because Ian suddenly got up close without warning and used his charm on me. I’m weak to good looks, that’s all. I definitely did not feel a flutter in my heart at that moment because of Ian. Nope.
Even if every woman in the capital falls head over heels for Ian, I will absolutely, definitely not be one of them.
Of course not. Ian belongs to Diana, no matter what anyone says! I can’t let myself be swayed by a pretty face.
I clenched my fists with determination.
‘Do you hear that, Diana? It’s the sound of Ian becoming the most eligible bachelor in the capital!’
I’ll pave the way with blooming azaleas, so our dear Diana can walk gracefully over them.
‘Honestly, I’d rather have you step lightly on Ian instead of the flowers, but…’
If that can’t happen, then I’ll make sure he’s a gentleman who’s utterly devoted to you.
After finishing my satisfying thoughts, I stretched and stood up with a refreshing feeling.
“Vivi, help me get ready. I need to have breakfast.”
❖ ❖ ❖
When I went down to the dining hall on the first floor, Ian was already seated, as usual.
I glanced at the clock hanging outside the entrance of the dining hall. It was five minutes past nine.
‘I came down right on time today, but…’
How early does this man come down? Is he sticking to a routine like clocking in at work, arriving at the dining hall ten minutes before nine?
As I sarcastically mused to myself, I realized that it actually seemed quite plausible for Ian, and I gave up on the thought.
“Good morning, Grand Duke.”
“Did you sleep well? The weather is nice today.”
Yes, that’s it. Starting the day with a response that sounds like a malfunctioning AI somehow feels just right.
The fact that I felt a bit let down by it confirmed that I must have been slightly excited yesterday.
I tried not to make eye contact with him as I sat down in the chair the attendant pulled out for me.
“Why don’t you try changing up your greetings a bit?”
His response came back as if he were doing me a favor.
“Let me know if there’s a greeting you’d like to hear.”
“…Never mind. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
That’s right, this man is just a tin can robot in need of rehabilitation.
As I unfolded the napkin over my lap, the attendants promptly brought out the dishes as if they’d been waiting.
“Pardon me. This is cold chicken breast with spinach purée.”
“Thank you.”
As I responded as usual, I suddenly paused, sensing something odd.
Normally, the attendants would quietly place the dish and disappear without making eye contact, but today, one of them was smiling warmly at both of us.
‘Huh…?’
When our eyes met, the attendant quickly cleared their throat and whisked away.
‘What’s this vibe?’
Come to think of it, the maids standing at the entrance of the dining hall earlier had similar expressions.
When I glanced up, I noticed the other attendants all looking at us with tender expressions.
“…”
I know that look.
It’s the expression of fans when they see their favorite couple being close.
‘So, it’s not just the nobles who’ve become more interested.’
I reluctantly shifted my gaze to Ian, sneaking a sideways glance at him.
Unlike me, who had quickly picked up on the atmosphere, Ian seemed completely oblivious to the attention directed at us and was focused on his meal.
At this point, I couldn’t help but think that being oblivious might be a kind of talent.
Just then, Ian lifted his head and our eyes met.
I flinched, my shoulders tensing up.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Ah, no, I will.”
I quickly turned my head and picked up my spoon.
Since breakfast a few days ago, Ian had been matching his eating pace with mine.
If he finished his plate before I did, he would forgo dessert, put down his utensils, and wait for me while reading the newspaper.
I thought I had gotten used to it, but at this moment, it was making me uncomfortably self-conscious.
‘This is driving me crazy. Why am I like this today?’
Determined to shake off the awkwardness, I cleared my throat after finishing the first course.
I decided to try turning the awkwardness into a conversation.
“I saw that we were mentioned in the newsletter again today.”
Ian, who had been twirling his water glass, looked at the newsletter next to me.
“That newsletter again?”
“Yes, it mentioned our outing over the weekend.”
Now, Ian would probably respond with “I see” or “Is that so” or “Yes.” I waited serenely for his response, but it never came.
After a brief silence, Ian asked
“What did it say?”
“Pardon?”
“The content.”
He looked at me as if to ask again.
I blinked in confusion, momentarily stunned by his unexpected reaction.
‘…Why is he asking about that?’
“Are you… curious about it?”
When I asked, perplexed, Ian asked in return
“Can’t I be?”
“No, it’s not that…”
Even though Ian usually paid no mind to others’ opinions, here he was, suddenly asking about the contents of the newsletter.
While I was flustered, Ian sat there, staring at me intently, as if waiting for my answer. His gaze wouldn’t let up until he got a response.
‘He only gets persistent when there’s something he wants to hear.’
In the end, I hesitated but finally opened my mouth.
“Um… well, it wasn’t anything major. It said that the Grand Duke and his wife seemed to be quite affectionate, and it particularly highlighted the moment when you helped me put on shoes at the shoe store. That’s about it.”
Ian, who was unusually attentive, nodded.
“It seems our practice date was worth it.”
Why did it feel like he was emphasizing the ‘practice’ again? Maybe I was imagining things.
“It seems you liked the newsletter quite a bit.”
“Yes, it was rather entertaining. The writer has a knack for storytelling. After hearing nothing but nasty rumors, it’s nice to hear something positive for a change, don’t you think?”
I added some weight to my last words, hoping it might prick his conscience a little.
But Ian seemed completely unaffected. After a moment of silent contemplation, he spoke in a dry tone.
“I suppose I should read it myself.”
“…Pardon?”
“I said, I should read it too, since you seem to like it.”
“…You… the Grand Duke… are going to read the newsletter?”
Ian Cloud, reading gossip instead of newspapers? To me, it sounded as strange as Diana not graduating at the top of her class at the academy.
“You said you liked it, didn’t you?”
“Well… yes, I did.”
But just last week, you said you weren’t interested in what people were saying about you.
I frowned slightly, recalling Ian’s lukewarm reaction when I showed him the front-page article from the newsletter.
‘Did the spinach purée go bad?’
Did he eat something that didn’t agree with him?
I skeptically scanned the table, but today, like always, the dishes prepared by the head chef were neatly arranged.
And as unbelievable as it seemed, Ian was once again staring at me, his cerulean eyes fixed on mine, waiting for an answer.
‘Why is he looking at me so much today?’
Unable to withstand his gaze any longer, I reluctantly opened my mouth.
“Yes, well… it’s not just about us; it covers most of the gossip in high society, so I guess it wouldn’t hurt to read it.”
“I heard the newsletter is published anonymously.”
“Yes. No one knows whether the author is male or female, or whether it’s one person or several. Considering how well they know about the inner workings of society, they’re likely to be a noble.”
“I see.”
Ian slowly nodded.
“How often is the newsletter published?”
“Are you really planning to follow it?”
I thought he was the kind of person who would be too busy to bother with such things, even if he subscribed.
“Is there a problem?”
No, there’s no problem…
I was starting to feel confused by his gaze, which seemed to be genuinely seeking permission.
Is the AI malfunctioning? A bug? Something like that?
Even as I wrestled with these thoughts, Ian continued to look at me, waiting for my response.
Eventually, I stammered out an answer.
“…It’s published about once a week, and from what I’ve seen, there are around ten to fifteen articles in each issue. Some columns follow up on stories from previous newsletters.”
I had no idea why I was explaining this to Ian.
The strangest part was that Ian seemed to be listening to me with genuine interest.
After taking his eyes off me, Ian picked up his utensils again.
“Understood.”
“…”
“I’ll let the butler know to subscribe on my behalf.”
♧♧♧
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