Deflower Me If You Can Chapter 7

“Oh my, good heavens. The child must have been very upset.”

At the duchess’s display of genuine sympathy for the child, hiding her startled feelings, Koi hurriedly added.

“No, he’s fine now. He ate his fill of his favorite ice cream and fell asleep in good spirits.”

Though he did cry again this morning.

Recalling the earlier incident, Koi carefully added.

“Bliss is a very good and gentle child. I believe he would behave politely, provided the topic of traits doesn’t come up…”

He had heard that Bliss had been prepared just in case, but still, the child’s impulsive behavior was hard to predict. It would be best not to provoke him today, he thought, trailing off. At that, the duchess readily nodded.

“Then it can’t be helped. The child’s stability comes above all else. Don’t you think so too, dear?”

She turned to her husband as if seeking agreement. The duke also nodded and added.

“Indeed. It’s quite alright. There will be another opportunity.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

Relieved, Koi exchanged respectful nods with each of them. The amiable atmosphere was about to continue when the one person who had been silent until then spoke.

“If it’s quite alright with you, might I be permitted to look around the manor?”

When Koi turned his head at the sudden voice, the son of the duke and duchess was looking at him. The conversation came to an abrupt halt and silence fell over the room. Momentarily flustered, Koi couldn’t answer right away and hesitated, at which Ashley took up the reply.

“By all means. If you need anything, feel free to say so.”

“I am grateful for your hospitality.”

Having given yet another impeccably courteous greeting, he promptly left the drawing room. Those left behind resumed their conversation, but within it, Koi was thinking other thoughts.

Even when saying things of no consequence, how can he be so composed and elegant?

∞ ∞ ∞

I thought I’d die of boredom.

The moment he was out in the corridor and alone, Cassian scrunched up his face and let out a long, drawn-out yawn. He’d come all this way because his father had insisted they must visit, but it had been a truly mind-numbingly tedious schedule. If he hadn’t made an excuse to step out, he’d surely have collapsed and fallen asleep.

At least the manor is quite serviceable, which is fortunate.

As he walked leisurely down the corridor, he thought. If he wandered around the house for a suitable amount of time, the hour would pass and then they’d likely head back soon.

He’d heard that Ashley Miller had personally built the three-story mansion before his marriage. Among the many mansions that were merely large, devoid of tradition or history, this one seemed fairly passable. The thought did occur to him that it was perhaps a bit small for raising six children, but that was only in comparison to the castle where Cassian lived.

The Strickland family castle, construction of which had begun in the 12th century and continued with work up until most recently, had been inhabited by the family head and direct line family members for generations. Currently, Cassian and the duke and duchess resided in the main castle, while the other structures were used in various ways—opened to the public for tourism or, in special cases, leased out. In truth, being an old building, there were often circumstances that made it difficult to equip with various modern facilities, and because of that, Cassian usually lived in a separate townhouse in the city or stayed in a dormitory.

Thinking of it that way, perhaps this was the more rational option.

Rumors that Ashley Miller cherished his family deeply were already widespread. Like many Americans, he too maintained a rather family-oriented image, though perhaps there was some other ulterior motive.

Such as an interest in politics, for instance.

If that were the case, then relations with Miller would become considerably important. If Cassian himself harbored intentions of entering the British political sphere, it would have been advantageous to make a favorable early impression, but truthfully, at present he wasn’t really thinking about what he ought to do next.

In any case, wasn’t his future more or less a foregone conclusion? As the sole heir of the Strickland family, he would inherit all of his father’s titles and fortune intact. He’d meet a suitable match befitting the family’s standing, marry, have children, and simply by breathing, he’d spend the rest of his life spending endlessly multiplying wealth.

…Tedious.

It was just as he had thought that far. Abruptly, a sound came from somewhere. Having turned his head absently, he slowly stopped walking and cocked his ear.

…Clink, clatter.

This time he heard it clearly. Very cautious, yet continuous, it was unmistakably the sound of tableware clinking together. Cassian tilted his head, then moved his steps toward the direction of the sound. With each step closer, the noise drew gradually nearer.

Strange.

Cassian mused. If it were a member of the staff carrying out their assigned task, they would have no reason to move so hushedly and cautiously like this. Someone was clearly up to something troublesome that mustn’t be discovered.

Either a burglar had broken in, a member of the staff was doing something they shouldn’t be, or failing that…

…I’m seeing things.

When he finally stood before the snack bar, Cassian furrowed his brow. Some little runt had climbed onto a chair and was straining, trying to fetch the snacks sitting on the shelf. Even stretched to his limit, he could only just graze the glass jar containing the treats, yet he was still flailing his short arms with all his might, exerting every effort. With no sign whatsoever of giving up.

∞ ∞ ∞

Is a staff member’s child sneaking snacks?

Cassian gazed at the back of the head with a serious face, lost in thought. It was entirely plausible. He didn’t know about the Miller household, but at Strickland Castle, there were quite a number of staff employed as family units. Since many had worked in the ducal household from a young age, married, and continued working thereafter, the Miller family might well be a similar case. If so, there was no particular need for him to insert himself into this matter and cause a stir. Continuing such antics, the child was bound to get caught anyway, and the consequences were for the Miller household to handle as they saw fit.

However, the child’s clothes appeared rather too fine for that assumption. Just as he was tilting his head, puzzled by the high-quality designer clothes that he couldn’t imagine a staff member having bought for their child, a sudden bad feeling washed over him.

Wait a moment.

Just as he blinked his eyes and was about to double-check what he had seen, a certain memory suddenly flickered through his mind. The back of that head looked familiar. Where had he seen it before? While he still stood there, brow furrowed, the child abruptly went up on tiptoes.

“Ugh, ungh.”

Just as the child let out a groan and stretched both arms out with all his might, the glass jar slipped in that instant. The image of it spinning in a wide arc seared into his vision as if in slow motion. The child, having no inkling of what was about to befall him, was reaching out with both arms. No—perhaps he was imagining something. Judging by the blissfully gaping mouth, he seemed to be dreaming of a future entirely detached from reality, at least.

“Wait—!”

His body moved before his mind. In just two large strides, he was behind the chair where the child stood. He stretched out his arm with all his might and immediately snatched the glass jar that was just about to fall onto the child’s head.

“Huh?”

The child, still with both arms stretched toward the empty air, let out a dazed sound. He seemed to have absolutely no grasp of what had almost just happened to him. Tsk, Cassian clicked his tongue briefly and looked down at the child. When the child belatedly turned his head and their eyes met, the moment Cassian saw his face, he remembered. Why this little runt had looked familiar.

“Uh.”

The runt was the same. After blinking a couple of times, the child suddenly let out an exclamation as if something had come to mind, and his mouth dropped open.

“Why are you here?”

After a pause of several seconds, the child asked with a deeply suspicious expression. With his eyes narrowed into slits, glaring sideways up at him, Cassian barely managed to suppress a laugh that nearly burst out. The child seemed to have no inkling at all of what had almost just happened to him. At the child’s reaction—hardly believable as one directed toward the savior of his life—Cassian couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his entire face and instead cleared his throat with a fake cough.

“Ahem, I was invited by Mr. Miller.”

He then spoke in a gentle voice.

“So you’re Bliss Miller.”

At those words, Bliss’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did you know?”

The answer was simple.

“By your eye.”

The eye Bliss had fiercely pummeled the day before was still swollen puffy and dyed a shade of purple.