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Later on, Atkins realized something after remembering his senior’s words. “Rumor has it that in the capital, there hadn’t been a young lady like her for several years…”
He had naturally come to the conclusion that the woman he had just met must be none other than the commander’s rumored wife and the duke’s controversial daughter.
While Atkins was left to his own thoughts, Deatrice, having been revitalized by that short walk, headed to the training center without delay. She saw knights in the middle of a practice session with the sandy ground crunching beneath their boots.
Carrying a dainty parasol, she slowly trudged on the unstable ground. Behind her were servants all lined up with gifts and food on their hands.
The men stopped at her sudden entrance and watched this peculiar scene with bewildered expressions.
“Lucy!” she called out in a sweet and familiar manner.
The knights immediately broke into low, incoherent murmurs.
Upon seeing her figure, Lucius frowned.
Soon enough, Deatrice had reached him and was now standing in front of him. She even took the time to notice how his blonde hair shimmered flawlessly under the sun.
Lucius looked at her, feeling a slight force on his chin that emanated from his gritted teeth. “What is all of this?” he asked.
Deatrice reached out her hands towards him, but Lucius grabbed her hand and repeated his words. “Let me ask you again—what is all of this?”
“What are you implying? I just brought some snacks and a few tokens of apology for your men since they couldn’t be present during our wedding.” She shook off his hand, “I’m only doing this because I know you have a very close relationship with them.”
“You’re—” he suddenly frowned when he saw Deatrice proudly raising her chin and looking around her, making eye contact with some of the knights.
Lucius soon realized what she meant.
A doting husband shouldn’t be upset that his beloved wife brought him food and gifts, and if he openly scolded Deatrice in front of them, it would be as if he was cutting his own flesh.
But he wasn’t able to change his mood right away. He just slightly pulled the corners of his mouth into a terse smile.
Deatrice, whom he had been actively avoiding after feeling excited by the image of her that he didn’t really want to recall because it irritated him, was currently standing in front of him with a sullen expression.
Teasing him.
Taking a glance at the servant, indicating him to leave, Lucius dragged Deatrice’s arm and they disappeared.
The knights exchanged meaningful glances with each other and began chatting, all the while chaotically receiving the gifts distributed by the attendants.
When they were in a quiet place, only then did Lucius let go of Deatrice’s hand. He couldn’t stand even a brief touch, and his hands just lay stiffly by his side.
He tried to speak calmly, but Deatrice had easily riled up his temper. ”What are you trying to do now?”
“I’ve already explained it to you: I want to apologize for not inviting them to the wedding—”
He cut off her words.
“I’m not asking about that.”
There was this slight nervousness in his voice at the explanation that came from her mouth. “We both know you’re not the kind of person who would care about the Templar. So just be honest with me, why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” she asked, thinking it was strange.
When she showed changes in her behavior, he didn’t seem to care. But out of the blue, he was suddenly questioning her intentions for changing.
Lucius uttered in a frustrated manner, “Yes, the things you—”
Kiss.
He paused.
If he continued his words, then Deatrice would immediately understand why he was in so much pain. He hastily replaced the end of his sentence with other words.
“The things you’re doing to me. What are you plotting against me?”
“Plotting against you?”
Deatrice scrutinized his face.
They said that Lucius was a sensitive person. But the ‘him’ right now appeared far from sensitive. It was like he had lost reason and simply looked like an agitated child.
Like a child who’s annoyed because he couldn’t get what he wanted.
People in this state tend to be easy to deal with. Therefore, Deatrice took one step closer to him and in a panic, he dodged and backed away. Looking intently at him, his skin flushed, and he hurriedly avoided her gaze.
She spoke. “I struggled a bit because the rumors about me in the mansion weren’t good. Especially my maid, Rosalynn. So I thought about trying to win people’s hearts by showing them how good I am to you.”
Deatrice slightly tilted her head. “And isn’t this what you wanted? To build up our image as affectionate newlyweds?”
It’s always effective to say half-truth and half-lie. Lucius had no choice but to believe her. In addition, it was because he said that he knew Deatrice wouldn’t do such a lowly act of revenge in the first place.
However, he inhaled a lungful of air because he couldn’t stand the urge to slap his past self.
It was like he had dug his own grave.
It obviously didn’t matter at first, but all of a sudden, their positions had changed completely.
He ruffled his hair, trying to stay calm. He was also aware that Deatrice’s gaze was looking at him, and he was fully aware that he was behaving strangely.
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I understand. But from now on, please don’t approach me like this, and you don’t have to always show people that you’re touching me.”
“But…” she took one more step towards him.
The room they came into in a hurry was filled with various desks and chairs. Hence, when Lucius moved his foot a step back, he hit his heel against the foot of a chair.
Deatrice looked up at him with an ambiguous smile. “You already said it first. There won’t be anything real going on between us.”
“…”
It felt hot inside. There was little to no ventilation inside the room because the windows were closed.
Lucius gulped and looked down at Deatrice who took another step closer.
He sniffed the air.
That damn rose scent again!
He eyed her square-fronted dress that barely even revealed the skin of her neck and collarbone.
How can I fall for this woman again?
Half of him simply wanted to die. Would it be better if he just struck his head somewhere? Even during the war where everyone was buying women left and right, he didn’t feel this kind of immoral impulse.
Lucius firmly decided he would never let the woman in front of him find out about this situation.
Being at the receiving end of her tenacious gaze, he was able to hold his head straight and look down at her.
But no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, it was gradually noticed.
“Lucius, you seem a little strange.” Deatrice furrowed her brows a little and said, “Your face is red… Do you have a fever? Are you sick?”
“No, it’s not like that.” he dissuaded.
“Let me touch your forehead.”
Lucius turned his body away, avoiding her touch. Her whisper-like tone even sounded sweet. But maybe it was just his ears playing tricks on him. “It’s not that, now go back.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“Since when did I?”
“Countless times already.” she countered. “Lucius, why are you being so weird? If you’re not sick, then what the hell is going on?”