♡ TL: Khadija SK
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Hazel swallowed a groan.
Theodore continued speaking, undeterred by her reaction:
“You must be wondering about the book’s content. It’s not difficult. A light romantic novel. Hmm, your expression right now stings a little, Miss Hazel. I may not seem it, but I’m a romantic and I enjoy love stories.”
Hazel gradually closed her mouth, which had opened in astonishment.
Weren’t the shelves beside the table filled solely with scientific books on astronomy, physics, and history?
“You could read it without a translator. I heard your Latin grades were excellent.”
Hazel echoed the same words Theodore had used on her. He smiled with a glint in his eye.
“Did you look into me? I’m honored.”
“Charlotte told me. I don’t even know where she got your grade records.”
Theodore feigned a surprised expression, as if realizing something. It was information he’d given Charlotte himself.
He’d asked her to tell Hazel how remarkable he was and what a distinguished life he’d led, and Charlotte had executed the task flawlessly.
Hazel crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Theodore with a stare. Her intelligent eyes seemed incapable of missing even the smallest lie.
As expected, Hazel wasn’t an easy person to sway. Theodore met her gaze, which he’d briefly avoided, and said:
“I just want to help you. Not Hazel Easton, but the translator Haze.”
Hazel closed her eyes. As she’d suspected, he knew. And he wanted to help her.
Theodore was truly a kind man.
That’s why Hazel couldn’t accept his offer. She opened her eyes again.
“I’ll decline your request. Do I need to explain anything about my work as a translator?”
The smile vanished from Theodore’s face.
“Miss Hazel, just accept my offer. It’s the way you can stay safe.”
“No. It’ll harm you, Your Grace. If rumors spread that you were involved with a translator tied to the banned books list, whispers will surely swirl around you. Even the king himself might take offense.”
“I don’t care about others’ words. Don’t rush—listen to me, Miss Hazel. Give me a chance to help you.”
Theodore grasped Hazel’s hand.
Her hands had been trembling for a while, though she hadn’t noticed when it began.
Her red lips paled, and her complexion turned ashen.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Theodore removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The warmth it retained seeped into her skin.
He didn’t return to his seat immediately but stayed by her side.
She felt him like a sturdy wall.
As if, even if a tsunami struck or enemy armies attacked, she’d remain safe.
Her heart, pounding fiercely, gradually calmed. Hazel’s trembling ceased too.
Sensing her shift, Theodore smiled faintly.
“At least hear my plan.”
“What do you intend to do?”
Hazel spoke, catching her breath.
Theodore sat on the edge of the bed instead of the chair. In this closer position, he could reach her if he extended his arm.
“To keep you safe, we both need to take a step back.”
Theodore calmly explained his simple plan.
Hazel would accept his request to translate a somewhat trivial romantic novel and publish it.
At the banned books classification meeting, Theodore would assert that the translator Haze worked solely for money.
He’d counter any attempt to punish her by arguing that if she deserved punishment, shouldn’t he—the one who hired Haze to translate a romantic novel—undergo a mental evaluation too?
No noble would dare attack the Bernier family, making it possible to remove Hazel from the mental evaluation list.
The concession Hazel had to make was sacrificing the identity she’d built as “Haze” the translator.
She’d no longer be Haze the societal critic, the just, but Haze who worked only for profit.
From Hazel’s perspective, though, she had nothing to lose. In the past, she’d indeed translated solely for money.
“I’d only step back once, but you, Your Grace, wouldn’t. You’d retreat two or three steps.”
Theodore would become known as a man who read romantic novels, facing implicit scorn in refined male society.
Even women were sneered at for reading romances.
What would it be like if a man—especially a man of Theodore’s elite stature—became famous for loving foreign romantic novels so much that he commissioned and published a translation?
“It’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe I’ll start a new trend of romantic novels.”
Their reactions to the same premise were polar opposites.
Hazel wore a horrified expression, while Theodore burst into laughter.
“Your confidence… it’s excessively overblown.”
Seeing his exaggerated optimism, Hazel’s tension melted away.
As her rigid shoulders relaxed, the faint worry hovering in Theodore’s eyes vanished, as if washed away. Hazel didn’t notice.
“Miss Hazel, give me a chance to help you.”
Theodore urged again, insistent.
Hazel closed her eyes. Her heart churned.
If she accepted his kindness, all the troubles she’d fretted over would disappear.
She could continue working as Haze the translator without fleeing the Easton family like a fugitive.
The offer was overwhelmingly tempting, a lifeline thrown to someone drowning in a well. Naturally, Hazel’s resolve wavered.
She pressed her lips together.
“I have nothing to offer you.”
“You’ve already given it.”
“What?”
“I think I’ve earned some points, haven’t I?”
Theodore suddenly leaned forward.
The distance between them shrank, and Hazel’s cheeks flushed.
The subtle heat she felt in her cheeks transferred to Theodore. The air between them began to tighten with tension.
Hazel’s back stiffened, saliva pooling under her tongue.
It felt like the masquerade all over again.
Would he kiss her like this?
As her heart raced and her hands grew clammy, Theodore abruptly stood.
Hazel jolted as if waking from sleep, her eyes already half-closed.
“I’ll assume you’ve accepted my request. I’ll send the manuscript this afternoon. I’ll leave now. You should exit in about five minutes. Someone will be waiting to guide you back. See you later.”
Theodore rattled off his words quickly and hurried out of the hunters’ shelter.
Left alone, Hazel stared at the suddenly empty space. Only after he was gone did she grasp the weight of his offer.
“Why is he doing all this…”
To help her?
Hazel rationally dissected his kindness.
Was it fear that if she were exposed as Haze, known as a translator of banned books and subjected to mental evaluation, it would tarnish the Bernier family’s reputation, given their marriage talks?
‘No, that’s not it. The duke could simply say he didn’t know.’
Beyond that, there was no reason for Theodore to help her.
Hazel pondered and re-pondered a question without an answer. Then she stumbled upon another issue.
It was, in a way, a stunning realization.
Goosebumps prickled her skin.
She leapt from the chair.
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Theodore hadn’t questioned her about being Haze or her ongoing work as a translator.
How she started translating, why she’d continued until now…
Hazel felt his silence was respect. An indescribable wave of emotion swept over her.
He respected her as a person, as a translator.
Her heart trembled. Her body shook with a sensation akin to pain.
Covering her flushed cheeks with both hands, Hazel sat back down, unsteady.
“…I’m in deep trouble.”
Her heart quivered.
***
That afternoon, Hazel received the book Theodore commissioned her to translate.
She hadn’t expected much when she opened it, but it was engaging, and she completed the translation in just three days.
Exactly one week later, the book was released to the world. At the banned books classification meeting, slightly expedited, it was decided that “translators are exempt from mental evaluation.”
Another week passed after that.
Was Theodore’s reputation affected, as Hazel had predicted?
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