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TMBS 18💖

TMBS
  • chapter 18. Klumpt

 

When Adele sat down across from Grey, who was slumped over his desk, Doran greeted her warmly as well.

 

“Hey there, Adele!”

 

“Hello, Sir Doran.”

 

A thick bundle of documents was tucked under Doran’s arm.

 

“But whoa—what happened to your hand, Grey? Looks like it got attacked by a whole hive!”

 

Doran strode over and chuckled brightly at the sight of Grey’s bandaged hand.

 

After nearly two years of watching Doran, Adele had figured it out. That wasn’t just a sunny disposition—it was chaotic glee disguised as cheerfulness.

 

There was no doubt in her mind that the bounce in Doran’s shoulders as he turned to drop off his documents was anything but innocent.

 

Grey, catching Adele’s eyes drifting toward Doran, flicked her forehead lightly.

 

“Yeah. Must’ve been some smart bee—it kept stinging the same spot.”

 

“There are bees that clever? I should treat it to honey or something.”

 

Doran returned to them with a mischievous gleam in his moss-green eyes. Grey sat up slightly, loosening his posture.

 

“A clever bee wouldn’t care who gave it the honey.”

 

“Aha! So that’s why you got stung so badly. Your honey must’ve been bottom-shelf trash.”

 

Grey’s face contorted with irritation.

 

“You son of a bi—”

 

Adele fought the urge to smile. The usually composed Grey getting flustered like this was enough to make even her reserved lips twitch.

 

That’s one reason she liked Doran. Of all the people she knew, he was the only one who truly knew how to push Grey’s buttons.

 

Which was probably why Grey had brought him from Hallock in the first place.

 

“Wait, Adele—are you an insect now? You like honey?”

 

Doran said it like he already knew Adele was the culprit behind Grey’s injuries. Adele couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

 

“I’ll pass.”

 

Grey turned fully toward her in disbelief.

 

“Adele. You find that funny? You actually like this kind of low-brow humor?”

 

“Well
 it’s never been particularly high-brow to begin with.”

 

Doran beamed.

 

“Knew it. I had a feeling you’d like me.”

 

Grey’s eyebrow twitched.

 

“How do you even make that leap?!”

 

Finally, Grey grabbed a roll of bandages from the desk and hurled it at Doran.

 

“Adele’s not some hyperactive bee like you—she’s a flower. My flower. So back off, Doran.”

 

Adele lowered her head, but the corner of her lips gave her away.

 

It was dusk. A soft crimson light was spilling across the sky.

 

The Valoneck estate sat west of the city center. With no hills or mountains nearby, it stood quietly in the middle of a flat plain.

 

When the sun dipped low in the sky, the massive duchy rose like a beacon of red flame. Locals often described it as mesmerizing, hence its nickname—the Western Rose Palace.

 

“Palace,” though? From the royal family’s perspective, the nickname was borderline blasphemous. No king resided there, after all.

 

But the prestige of House Valoneck wasn’t something even the royal family could challenge lightly. Despite two shifts in dynastic rule, the Valonecks remained the kingdom’s most powerful noble house.

 

Grey’s eyes drifted from the sunset to the Duke’s office window.

 

The estate was shaped like a large, squared-off “C,” with a vast garden in the center. From Grey’s office in the left wing, he had a direct line of sight to the Duke’s office on the far side of the central structure.

 

He picked up the thought he’d been entertaining earlier, before Adele walked in with the bandages.

 

Why hadn’t he felt suffocated?

 

In his father’s office earlier, he’d definitely been trapped in a tight space.

 

He’d been poking around his father’s files, looking for anything amusing, when he heard someone at the door. Assuming they’d go away if he didn’t answer, he ignored it—only for the door to suddenly start opening. Up until that moment, it had just been a harmless game.

 

Oh? A rebel infiltrator?

 

Excited to see who it was, he’d hidden in a corner. That’s when it hit him—Right. I hate small spaces. This is gonna suck.

 

And sure enough, the moment he acknowledged the claustrophobia, it began to creep in—tight chest, shallow breathing.

 

So he decided to take a quick peek at the intruder and then make a quiet exit.

 

But the second he saw who it was, all that disappeared.

 

Adele?

 

He’d almost laughed out loud.

 

Everything that happened after felt natural. As he watched her snoop around, the discomfort of the cramped room faded. Even when she hiked up her skirt, revealing almost all of her bare legs, he didn’t recoil.

 

On the contrary—he was fascinated. So there was a needle hidden there?

 

And when she stumbled into his arms, he’d completely forgotten about where they were.

 

It was tight. Cramped. But his lungs didn’t ache, his chest didn’t squeeze. In fact, his heart had been racing—for reasons that felt strangely… pleasant. Like the fuzzy anticipation of something good.

 

When a sharp pain flared between his thumb and forefinger, he instinctively pulled her closer, almost like seeking comfort. Her body felt soft, light, and warm.

 

So now, back in his office, he found himself deep in thought.

 

Why didn’t I panic?

 

Why wasn’t I disgusted when I saw her bare legs?

 

Was it just because they were… nice legs?

 

Why had Adele been in his father’s office? How did she know her way around his files so well? Those were questions for later.

 

Right now, what mattered more was understanding the baffling change within himself.

 

But he came up blank. All he could recall was the creamy length of her legs, the feel of her body in his arms—soft and addictive.

 

Hmph. This isn’t good either.

 

Still staring out at the other wing, Grey spoke.

 

“Doran.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do you know the name of the deckhand on the Sunflower?”

 

“The Sunflower? That ship runs long-distance routes to the outer continents.”

 

“I know. So? Do you know?”

 

“Nope, I don’t, you lunatic.”

 

“Then go find out.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“And Doran?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What kind of lock would a lock-picking deckhand not be able to open?”

 

“A deckhand who picks locks? What, is that how they catch the ones shirking work?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Well, probably locks that aren’t used on ships.”

 

“Then let’s swap out all the locks in our rooms with those.”

 

Doran blinked.

 

“Why?”

 

“My flower has sticky fingers. Apparently she picked it up from that deckhand.”

 

Doran frowned.

 

“She went through our stuff?”

 

“No, not quite.”

 

“Then how do you know?”

 

“I just… do. Let’s call it luck.”

 

Doran paused, processing.

 

“So what, you’re just going to let her be? She could’ve seen all your documents—maybe even figure out who you really are. Don’t you think you should kick her out or, I dunno, warn her or something?”

 

Grey lazily ran his fingers along his jaw.

 

“Which is why I’m changing the locks.”

 

He finally looked away from the window and met Doran’s incredulous stare.

 

“And besides—if she did see anything, oh well.”

 

“What?! You’re okay with her discovering your real identity?”

 

Grey’s eyebrow arched briefly.

 

“My identity? Do I even have one?”

 

“That’s…”

 

Doran couldn’t finish the sentence.

 

It was a fair question.

 

Because Grey was Klumpt, and Klumpt was Grey.

 

A northern merchant and emerging magnate—that was the secret identity Grey kept hidden.

 

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t also Grey Valoneck.

 

The real issue was whether Adele could piece together that he was Klumpt just by snooping around some documents. He’d never admitted it to her. Didn’t seem like he planned to, either.

 

And yet
 he seemed this carefree?

 

Doran stared at him, baffled. Grey smirked.

 

“What’s the cleanest way to win when someone has dirt on you?”

 

Doran didn’t change his expression as he answered.

 

“You find worse dirt on them.”

 

It was one of Grey’s favorite games. Naturally, his lips curled into a boyish grin.

 

“Then let’s go dig up some secrets on our cheeky little flower.”

 

Doran still looked unconvinced.

 

“You really think Adele has a weakness bigger than your secret identity?”

 

Could a girl that normal really have something like that?

 

Grey squinted at the sunset-bathed building in the distance.

 

Black glasses. Pink eyes. Skilled hands. Inappropriate hobbies.

 

She might. Maybe not anything world-shattering, but something personal. Something devastating—to her.

 

That would be enough. It only needed to be useful for leverage.

 

“In that case, do a full background check. Everything on Adele Norea. Where she’s from, who she knows—everything.”

 

Just then, something caught Grey’s eye. In truth, it was the moment he’d been waiting for.

 

Nox Gregory, returning to the estate after his day at the palace.

 

A familiar, unpleasant sight.

 

One summer evening, Grey had come into Adele’s office late, assuming she’d already gone home.

 

But she hadn’t.

 

She was at the window, staring out through the ornate iron gates of the estate.

 

He’d planned to slip in and out unnoticed, but changed his mind and quietly backed out. On his way up the stairs to his own office, he happened to glance out a window with a view of the estate gate.

 

A carriage was rolling through the glowing garden of the Western Rose. The same gate Adele had been staring at.

 

It stopped at the entrance and out stepped a tall, solidly built man—Nox.

 

Grey had swallowed a bitter smile. Adele had been waiting for him.

 

Just to catch that brief moment when he got out of the carriage.

 

“Hm.”

 

Grey’s mood darkened, just like it had that day.

 

“And Doran.”

 

“What now?”

 

“Look into Nox, too.”

 

“Nox? The orphanage guy?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What for?”

 

“No reason.”

 

Because it pisses me off.

 

There he was again, stepping out of the carriage, that annoyingly sharp nose catching the last rays of the sun.

 

Always too perfect. Damn irritating.

 

Grey finally turned from the window.

 

“Doran.”

 

“What? Stop calling me. You’re gonna wear my name out.”

 

“You like it.”

 

“You’re insane.”

 

“Is Nox good-looking?”

 

Doran’s smirk froze. Then he laughed in disbelief.

 

“You’ve really lost it. Why the hell do you care? You don’t have eyes?”

 

“Just answer.”

 

“Hmm. I guess
 he’s good-looking.”

 

Figures.

 

“Better than you?”

 

“Are you nuts? Of course not! I’m way hotter.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Grey flashed a cheerful smile.

 

So Nox wasn’t that good-looking, after all.

 

Feeling better, Grey gave Doran a hearty pat.

 

“Hang in there, man.”

 

“What the hell, Grey.”

 

 

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To My Beloved Scoundrel

To My Beloved Scoundrel

나의 닀정한 ëŹŽëą°í•œì—êȌ
Score 10.0
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: , Released: 2023 Native Language: Korean
She knew that the water she was drinking was rotten. She was just a child, thirsty to the point of dying, hoping that drinking the rotten water would not kill her. Born the daughter of a common peasant, Summer was swept into a spiral of misfortune when her father had an affair with the lord’s daughter. She tried to live resolutely while taking care of her younger siblings alone, but
 [Just the sound of the Duke’s footsteps makes my heart freeze. Summer, it hurts so much and I’m scared. I want to cry, but I can’t even cry here.] [Summer, save me, please.] Summer’s world was eventually destroyed by the Duke of Valronek. One day, a rumor spreads that the youngest son of the Duke of Valronek is looking for a personal assistant. Seeing it as an opportunity for revenge, Summer, posing as an aristocratic young lady named Adele, went to find the famous son known as a scoundrel
 “How about this then? What if I hire you?” This scoundrel, something about him is strange. “Or should we just stay here?” The scoundrel of this era. The brother of the enemy who must not discover her plans. At the same time, he’s compassionate and beautiful, like the savior who will pull her out of this quagmire of revenge. “Did you feel it, Adele?” “

.” “Yeah, you’re doing well.” Every time she looks into those languid blue eyes, she feels herself falling into a swamp of emotions deeper than revenge. ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ “Young
Mast
er, Mast..er
.” “Yes, Adele.” His entire body’s muscles were as vigorous as a wild beast in motion, but his voice, murmuring like a bird, was as gentle as feathers. It was disgusting and pleasant at the same time. “You should be
 thankful for the wrapping paper
.” The pretty wrapper kissed her again, or rather, the young master kissed her again. “Adele, can I do it one more time?” “You said earlier
 it was the last one, didn’t you?” “But you said that stealing, which I learned late, is a scary thing.” Oh
 God. “Well, that’s not what a thief would say
, is it?”

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