Chapter 132

Of course, he was the one who brought the tray, which he took from the servant who was about to head to Deatrice’s chamber.

Deatrice took it back from him as she sat down in a plush chair. Feeling the hunger in her stomach, she tore the bread in two and started devouring them.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Did you truly start it first?”

“You should know that you’re not supposed to question a lady like that.”

“I’m not joking.” He was persistent.

“So am I.”

“Deatrice…” The name he called out in a frustrated voice and going crazy was quite different from what she had heard all night. Deatrice laughed a little, and Lucius, who thought the laugh was making fun of him, gave a displeased expression.

Deatrice said calmly.

“You don’t have to put on that face. I’m just laughing because it’s awkward.”

“What?”

“You called me ‘Dee’ the whole night. ‘My Dee, my Dee…’ while asking for a kiss.” She said, reciting the melody as if singing a song. Lucius blushed a little, then sat down in front of her and asked.

“And? What else did I do?”

“Hm, was it five times?” she put on a thoughtful expression, “You did somersaults in front of me, then fell to the floor and wept. Then you jumped—”

“Really now, Deatrice?”

He sighed and bowed his head in exasperation at her childish display. He hated her for not knowing his feelings and making fun of him. But he soon took her hand from the table and buried his face there like he did last night. His breath warmed her palm, and his hair tickled her fingers.

“Please tell me… that I did not force you to have sex with me.”

She asked in a voice that seemed calm and arrogant. “Why, are you scared?”

He meekly answered. “Yes, I am.”

At that affirmation, the corners of her lips rose slightly with satisfaction. He said he was terrified of holding her last night too.

She answered in a slightly lenient tone. “There’s no need to be scared. You didn’t force me.”

“Ah.”

He could already from her actions that she was joking before but hearing a definite answer hits differently. Lucius let out a sigh, soaking deeply in a feeling of relief and joy that he gently kissed the back of her hand.

Deatrice gracefully retrieved her hand and drank coffee as a gesture of telling him it was enough.

Lucius raised his head to look at her slipping hand and stared at her in an odd mix of affectionate and then the other was looking at her like an incomprehensible creature.

After watching her for a long time wordlessly as she ate the now bite-sized pieces of bread, he reached out and wiped the crumbs from her lips. Lucius knew it was best for him to remain silent because he knew wouldn’t answer anyway, but he couldn’t help but ask. “What made you want to sleep with me?”

“What kind of answer do you want to hear?” She asked back as if she could give him any answer he wanted.

But he shook his head and said. “Just tell the truth.”

“Do you not mind if I tell you I only did it out of sympathy?”

“Oh.”

“Answer me,” she pressed, “do you not mind?”

“Well.” He was silent for a moment. Deatrice saw him become surprisingly serious and calm as he contemplated an answer. He pondered it carefully, as if he did not want to answer in vain, and finally spoke.

“I don’t mind.”

“Really? Didn’t you lock yourself in here because you did not want to be pitied?”

“You are right. But…” He smiled briefly, then continued, “Now that I think about it, deep inside, I wanted you to know the truth. Even when I locked the door, I still hoped that one day you will find me. I don’t want to hide anything from you anymore. I just didn’t expect that you’d find me earlier than I thought.”

Then his brows furrowed in perplexity, “But how did you open the door?”

It was difficult for her to say anything related to her ruining a lock, so Deatrice turned her gaze away, pretending not to know, and calmly sipped coffee. Suddenly she remembered the childish conversation they had last night.

“Do you love me?”

“What about you?”

“Did you really love me?”

It didn’t seem to be a regular conversation, but Deatrice responded with, ‘I cannot answer you now.’

But someday, maybe she could? When he finally comes to his senses, could she give him an honest answer?

This time, she deeply pondered and contemplated her thoughts and actions.