Chapter 18
…What?
“You… want me to like you?”
“Yes. Why don’t you ever compliment me? I did well.”
He said this while lifting the ointment jar with one hand. Then, with a lazy smile, he added,
“My hair is pretty soft too.”
“….”
When he willingly lowered his head toward me, I found myself lifting my hand almost without thinking.
As I ran my fingers slowly through his hair, it felt like it would make a soft, pleasant sound.
“It’s true,” I murmured.
“It really is.”
I knew I should pull my hand back now, but it wasn’t so easy. Then his free hand gently caught a lock of my hair where it fell over my collarbone—my strawberry-blonde hair with a pink tint.
He lifted it to his lips and lightly kissed it. My heart began to pound, even though there are no nerves in hair.
When I slowly lowered my hand, he took it and laced his fingers with mine, resting them on his thigh. I could feel how firm his leg was.
While still stroking my hair with his other hand, he spoke in a voice dripping with honey.
“It smells like strawberries.”
If voices had scents, his would definitely smell like strawberries right now.
I fidgeted my fingers slightly in his grasp.
“Actually, it’s roses. I used rose-scented oil when I bathed earlier.”
He let out a warm, pleased laugh.
“Then I think I’ll start liking roses.”
“…Really?”
“Yes, truly. I wish my body smelled like this too.”
He was clearly trying to seduce me. With that silky voice, those pretty lips opened again.
“Would it be alright if I enjoyed your scent… a little closer?”
For a second, I almost nodded.
But no way!
“Absolutely not.”
Right on cue, Popo barked sharply from my lap—woof! Clever thing.
I smirked.
“I told you, Popo understands my feelings perfectly.”
He didn’t hide his disappointment as he sat back upright.
“You’re not wrong about anything, my lady. Just for reference—Popo’s male, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
His jaw clenched for a moment, but when I looked up again, his face was calm. Probably my imagination.
Popo let out a little hmph sound at him, then hopped down and strutted across the room. He flopped onto his back right in front of the pile of my unopened birthday presents.
Following Popo with his eyes, Owen asked,
“Are those gifts for you, my lady?”
“Yes. Now that you mention it, I should check the important ones and send thank-you letters…”
Ugh, too much trouble. And with no food for the next few days, I didn’t want to waste energy.
Well, if I get desperate, I’ll just open the boxes that look like they have food in them.
I casually walked over and sat on the floor beside Popo, rummaging through the pile. That’s when I spotted a very familiar name.
[Eloise ta Bartoli]
“!”
My troublemaking little sister—she’d sent me a package!
My eyes lit up, and I tore at the wrapping. From beside me, he asked,
“Who’s it from, for you to tear into it like a wild beast?”
“Ellie! Ellie!”
“That’s a strange beast cry.”
“My youngest sister! Eloise ta Bartoli!”
Inside the wrapping was a lightweight box tied with a pretty ribbon, and attached to it was a letter.
I’d been meaning to write to Eloise about Arne anyway. And here she was, sending a birthday gift and a letter.
Right there on the floor, I opened it and read:
**[To my dear sister Sophia,
It’s me, Eloise. I hope you’ve met the son I sent you. Just in case you haven’t, he’s at the Glentino dukedom right now.
Why do you have a son you never gave birth to? Remember, you once promised to be the godmother of my child.
Somehow, I ended up with a son, but as you know, I’m a wandering artist who can’t settle down. Raising a child isn’t easy for me. So I’m sending him to you.
Once you read this, I recommend going to the Glentino dukedom to see him. He’s smart and adorable—you’ll like him. Don’t worry, I’ve already told him you’re his mother.
From your forever precious Ellie.
P.S. I’ve even picked out your husband. Raise the child together.]**
Unbelievable.
Completely insane.
So much for my faint hope that maybe someone had just pretended to be Eloise. Of course it was her. No one else in the world would do this—thank the gods there’s not a second Eloise out there.
The contents were ridiculous.
First, the godmother thing. She’d never make such an offer. In my past life, Eloise stayed single until I died—and she’d boldly told Father early on that she never planned to marry.
I could only guess the “promise” came from some etiquette lesson when we were kids, where the tutor said, “Loving sisters often become godmothers to each other’s children,” and we all went “Yes!” without thinking.
And “somehow” she got a son? She’s only sixteen! There’s no way she gave birth to a ten-year-old. She must have taken him in from somewhere—but if she can’t raise him, why take him in at all? And why dump him on me?
Finally, the husband part was the cherry on top. She doesn’t even know Arnold is dead! Not that she liked him—she used to tell me almost daily to dump that worthless man.
But sending me a child and a man?!
“This hopeless little brat!”
“What did your sister say?”
Ah—
I’d said that out loud. I quickly pressed my lips together.
“…Arne… really is from my sister.”
“I see.”
He nodded lightly, as if he’d already guessed.
Then I remembered the P.S.: I’ve even picked out your husband. And that Eloise had sent the boy to him.
‘Ellie, what on earth is going through your head?’
I folded the letter back into the envelope. He sat quietly watching me, Popo just as calm at his side.
“You must be close to your youngest sister.”
“Well… we’re informal with each other.”
She’s four years younger, so it’s hard to fight seriously with her.
She knows I let her off easy, and she takes advantage of it.
I shook my head and untied the ribbon on her gift. I’d already read the letter, so I might as well check the present.
Last time, she’d sent me some exotic string instrument from a far-off land—ukulala, okorele, or something like that. Maybe this time it was another instrument.
Confidently, I opened the box right in front of Owen—
And inside… was a scandalously sheer slip. Three of them, in fact.
“Gasp—”
I quickly shut the box, but not before I saw him glance away sharply, his face turning red.
“She must be a true benefactor to me,” he said shyly.
“What?!”
“I prefer white, but you’d look stunning in black and red as well.”
Get out!
“You saw a lot for just a quick peek!”
“What can I do about my sharp eyesight? I might as well get matching underwear in those colors.”
What! …Though, honestly, the thought of a man that handsome in sexy underwear… wasn’t unpleasant.
After a pause, I said casually,
“I like garter belts.”
He nodded seriously.
“Understood.”
“Calf garters and sleeve garters too.”
“Understood.”
“And if you’re doing it, add a choker.”
“Leather?”
“Yes. Belt style.”
“Belt style. Noted.”
We both closed the box, mutually satisfied.
I still needed to check the other presents, but… I was feeling lazy.
And now, real hunger was setting in again. I’d forgotten about it when he suddenly appeared earlier.
I got up to fetch the jerky from the tea table.
Just as I turned with it in hand, he suddenly rose to his feet, as if remembering something.
“Oh, I almost forgot why I came.”
“…Why you came?”
“Yes. Yesterday was your birthday, wasn’t it?”
“My birthday? Well, yes, but why—”
He didn’t answer. He stepped right up to me and—thud—went down on one knee.
“?! What are you—”
I stopped mid-sentence when he took something from his pocket.
It was a small box—unmistakably a ring case.
When he opened the square black velvet box, there it was—a ring.
“….”
Oh my god.
