GDASP 04

Chapter 04…

Dale, looking even more nervous than she was, kept wiping his hands on his thighs before finally speaking.

“…You haven’t forgotten everything you studied so far, right?”
“Of course not.”
“And how did Lady Elizabeth usually speak?”
“She was very proud and… rude.”
“Exactly. Extremely rude! The kind of person who makes you think—‘Can someone really be this awful?’ That level of viciousness!”

Elizabeth had only been sensitive because she’d been sickly since childhood and suffered from chronic headaches…
But to others, she must have just seemed like an ill-tempered villainess.

Cynthia gave Dale a half-hearted nod.

“The Grand Duke has already arrived. Don’t say anything unnecessary! Just answer when spoken to—like someone who finds these formal meetings a total nuisance!”
“Oh, seriously… I got it! How many times are you going to say that?”
“Ah, perfect. That attitude right there—keep it just like that.”

Dale looked Cynthia up and down, then reached out to fix her slightly crooked hair ornament.

Not that she could even see herself anyway…

That obsessive perfectionism of his…

Only after making sure the accessory was perfectly aligned did Dale turn and swing open the grand reception room doors. He tilted his head slightly, signaling Cynthia to enter.

Cynthia took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace. Elizabeth Bailey greets you.”

She managed to say the first line—the one she had rehearsed with Dale more than ten times—without a mistake.

Calm and composed, yet indifferent and chic.

Satisfied with her delivery, Cynthia approached the man sitting with his back to her. His head did not turn, but a deep voice came from him.

“It’s been a while, my lady.”
“Well then, I’ll leave you two to your pleasant conversation,” Dale said before quietly closing the door behind them.

But knowing him, he was probably standing outside with his ear pressed to the door, monitoring her every move.

Cynthia sighed silently and walked to the opposite seat, facing the Grand Duke Romannoff.

And then—she froze.

Wow… just… wow.

He was exactly as described in the original novel—a stunningly handsome man.

Thick brows, a tall nose, smooth and sharp jawline, broad shoulders… He radiated dignity, but there was also a mysterious aura about him.

Even his closed eyes—calm and still as if he were asleep—seemed to amplify that unique presence.

Cynthia found herself staring at every detail of his face, thinking it would have been rude if his eyes had been open.

How could Elizabeth fail to win over a fiancé who looked like this…?

In the novel, Grand Duke Tession Romannoff was described as a very disciplined, almost ascetic man.

Cynthia couldn’t help but feel sorry for Elizabeth, who, despite being engaged to such a man, had never once been intimate with him.

Well, at least she had fun with the other twenty men, Cynthia thought, consoling herself with that logic.

Just then, the Grand Duke spoke again, his eyes still closed.

“You’re staring holes into me.”

Even his voice was mesmerizing. Cynthia blinked blankly, not realizing he was speaking to her.

It’s like a statue is talking…

“W–what? Me?”

Startled, Cynthia nearly jumped out of her seat.

Damn it! Elizabeth would never react like this!

Cold sweat trickled down her back as Dale’s scolding voice echoed in her mind.

“My other senses are sharper since I can’t see. I can feel your gaze burning on me.”
“S–sorry…”

Oh no. Total disaster!

Elizabeth would never apologize!

Cynthia grabbed her own hair in silent frustration.

“…Your atmosphere seems a little different, my lady. Compared to our last meeting.”

Gasp.

So he wasn’t bluffing—his senses really were sharp.

With just a few words, he noticed the difference between this meeting and the last.

Stay calm… breathe…

Still, Cynthia’s voice was nearly identical to Elizabeth’s. Dale had said her tone had that same distinctive resonance.
As long as she didn’t panic, there was no reason he’d suspect anything.

She took a slow breath and replied, calmly, coolly, indifferently:

“I don’t think so.”
“…Is that so.”

Cynthia quickly reached for her teacup. She needed something—anything—to calm her pounding heart.

“Has there been no trouble in the Bailey household?”
“No, nothing.”

She gave the shortest possible answer.

The real Elizabeth’s death in a carriage accident last week had already been wiped clean from existence, thanks to the Bailey family’s swift and thorough cover-up.

The accident site had been scrubbed spotless, as if nothing had happened. No one dared mention it again.

Money really can buy anything, huh.

Cynthia sipped her tea to steady herself.

Whew… but seriously, what am I supposed to talk about?

They barely knew each other—and yet here they were, forced into a ridiculous formal meeting for a contract engagement.

Nobles really were slaves to procedure and appearances.

Apparently, before marriage, they had to meet privately at least five times. Which meant she’d have to endure three more of these painfully awkward encounters.

What kind of stupid rule is that…

Cynthia glanced longingly at the clock, praying Dale would walk back through that door soon.

Meanwhile, the Grand Duke seemed equally at a loss.

He sat motionless, silent as an ancient marble statue. Every attempt at small talk died in the awkward air after Cynthia’s curt replies.

She gripped her teacup tightly, wondering what Elizabeth would have said in this situation.

The silence stretched so long it felt like torture—time itself seemed to crawl.

Then something caught her eye.

Something she absolutely could not ignore.

Oh no…

Just one strand.

One single black strand of hair had fallen onto the Grand Duke’s smooth forehead.

No… don’t…

Cynthia was the kind of person who couldn’t leave such things alone.

If she saw someone’s hat askew, she’d follow them just to fix it.
If someone’s skirt thread came loose, she’d cut it clean with scissors.
If food stuck to someone’s mouth, she’d wipe it off for them.

And now, that one strand of hair was all she could see.

Her fingers twitched with the overwhelming urge to brush it away.

I can’t take it… I need to fix it right now!

She swallowed hard, debating.

He can’t see anyway…

If she moved quietly and carefully, maybe he wouldn’t notice.
If she moved slowly enough—without even stirring the air—he might not feel a thing.

Otherwise, that stray hair would just keep taunting her in this suffocating silence.

Cynthia steeled herself and slowly reached toward his forehead. Very slowly, stealthily…

Just a little closer… almost there…

The Grand Duke remained still, eyes closed. If not for the faint sound of his breathing, she might’ve thought he really was a statue.

Half-standing, holding her breath, Cynthia stretched her hand toward him.

Just fix this and pretend nothing happened!

Her fingers finally brushed the strand of hair.

But that was when things got harder.

“…”

She dared not breathe or blink as she gently moved her hand. The strand slid smoothly across his forehead, finally falling back neatly with the others.

Phew…

She exhaled in relief, slowly withdrawing her hand—

—when suddenly—

Snap—

“!”

Without warning, the motionless Grand Duke lifted his arm and caught her wrist in a firm grip.