The Trap of a Beautiful Face
Regardless of the man’s irritation, Chloe pointed out the issue that had been nagging at her. “But at this rate, she has far too many disqualifications. Surely there are plenty of other perfectly fine ladies.”
“No one is more desperate than a woman whose child is held hostage. Well, this is all just speculation. We won’t know the details unless she opens her mouth.”
“Hmm.”
Chloe set the documents down beside her and lay on her side, crossing her arms. In any case, the two of them needed a confession from Isabelle la Glintland. But if Curtis’s theory was correct, it was highly unlikely she would give a testimony that favored the Grand Ducal couple—especially if her child was being held hostage. The moment she crossed the King of Glintland, her family would be in danger, regardless of whether her mission succeeded or failed.
“Bartholomew must be the key to this situation.”
“Explain.”
His tone was a prompt to continue, like a teacher testing a student. Well, after working as this man’s aide, she had become an expert at this level of deduction.
“Isabelle la Glintland mentioned Theresemania and Cataract.”
“Yes.”
“Both are foreign port cities with incredibly powerful navies.”
As she lay there, the collar of her poet shirt had slid up uncomfortably toward her neck. Chloe lightly adjusted the fabric of her shirt as she continued to speak.
“They are also adjacent to the Sarova Sea, where Pirate King Bartholomew is active, meaning they could suppress him almost immediately. They just haven’t because it’s a hassle.”
“And?”
“But the help Your Grace can offer her isn’t nearly as attractive by comparison. If she wanted to produce a result that actually pleases the King of Glintland, Your Grace would have to marry her.”
As she spoke, Chloe reached back to toss her braided hair out of the way. But there was a slight problem. Curtis was leaning back right next to where she was lying.
Smack.
Chloe’s thick hair slapped Curtis right across the face.
“Ah.”
Chloe turned to Curtis in surprise. Curtis, who had been sitting quietly only to get slapped in the face by someone else’s hair, frowned deeply before looking down at her.
Inevitably, their eyes met.
They were at an extremely close distance—close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips. His purple eyes narrowed, and Chloe flinched.
“Sorry.”
Muttering an apology, she twisted her upper body and half-lay on her stomach on the bed. Her legs, which had been propped against the wall, naturally dropped onto the mattress with a soft thud. Keeping her eyes fixed on Curtis’s face, she reached out. The man flinched and reflexively grabbed her wrist.
“What are you—”
“Uh...” Chloe blinked. “Your Grace, my hair on your face...”
Curtis also blinked a couple of times, seemingly struggling to comprehend the situation. His beautiful purple eyes shimmered transparently under the reddish glow of the magic lamp in the aide’s room.
Without breaking eye contact, Chloe carefully extended her captured wrist and plucked a single strand of her dark blue-black hair from his cheek.
“...It was stuck.”
The man’s gaze shifted from Chloe to the single strand of hair pinched between her fingers. Chloe waited for him to fully process the situation, then softly added, “Since you hate it.”
Why did she say that? The moment the words left her mouth, Curtis’s face instantly flushed a bright, burning red.
What in the world?
Chloe was so startled by how rapidly his face heated up that she could only stare in a daze. Was he pissed? No. As everyone well knew, her boss was the type of person whose face stiffened when he was angry, and who smiled beautifully when he was even angrier. Why on earth was his face turning pink...?
Eventually, Chloe’s own face began to burn bright red as well. Awkwardness and embarrassment had a way of being contagious for no reason at all. Naturally, Chloe was utterly flustered by this unprecedented, inexplicable wave of embarrassment.
“P-please let go...”
This felt like a very familiar situation. But why couldn’t she remember where she had seen it? It made sense; she was far too confused to think logically. She didn’t even know why she was embarrassed, so how could she analyze the situation?
She only knew one thing: she had to get out of this man’s grip.
But the problem was that Chloe was awkwardly sprawled half-flat on the bed, with one arm held hostage. Without any leverage, any attempt to shake her hand free would just look like a ridiculous wiggle to Curtis.
“Sorry...”
When she pulled her hand back, Curtis let go of her wrist surprisingly easily.
Easily? No, more like... listlessly.
While Chloe quickly scrambled off the bed and retreated, Curtis stared at his released hand, then roughly rubbed his face.
“Damn it...”
Even as he muttered, his ears were still bright red.
Chloe sat back awkwardly for a moment, then avoided his gaze, got up, and headed to the office. When she returned from the office’s bathroom with a damp cloth, the man was sitting with one knee up, looking like the most unmotivated person in the world.
“What?”
He glared at her, looking exactly like a petulant stepmother glaring at an unwanted stepdaughter. His chin was puckered like a walnut, and his mouth was full of mysterious discontent and irritation.
“Since Lieutenant Noel isn't here.”
“What?”
“Your hands. You aren't wearing gloves right now.”
She gestured with her chin and handed him the damp cloth. He took it, looking utterly dumbfounded, letting out a disbelieving, “Ha.”
Fine. Throw a fit even when I'm serving you.
...is what she didn't say out loud.
“If you don't need it, I'll take it back.”
Apparently he did need it, because while glaring at her, he vigorously wiped his face with the cloth. Not only that, he deliberately wiped between his fingers thoroughly, then tossed the cloth into a corner.
Look at his terrible personality...
Chloe muttered internally as she picked up the cloth. Immediately, an irritated question was thrown her way.
“Why are you picking that up?”
Chloe looked at him flatly. “First of all, this is my room. If Your Grace doesn't pick it up, I'm the only one left to do it.”
Only then did Curtis look around, seemingly realizing anew that this was the aide’s room.
Unbelievable. Did he walk in here not knowing it was the aide’s room?
The man suddenly composed his expression, strode over, and snatches the cloth from her hand.
“Give it.”
Would you die if you didn't speak to me like that? And I already gave it to you. It's right there in your hand, Your Grace.
Suppressing her urge to ask, Chloe just shook her hands out. The man quickly walked back toward the office without looking back, leaving Chloe alone in the aide’s room.
Only then did she let out her held breath.
“Crazy...”
She covered her face with both hands, just as Curtis had done, and squeezed.
Crazy, crazy, crazy!
She pressed her cheeks so hard they might burst, but she was too embarrassed to even feel the pain.
“I almost made a mistake...”
Taking a step back, she could see the situation clearly. She vaguely knew that such moments existed—moments when two people suddenly see each other as members of the opposite sex.
“So, they fell for each other while working overtime? Oh my god. After all that complaining...”
“Well, if you're stuck together like that, it's impossible not to catch feelings.”
That was what people whispered about her and the Grand Duke when they entered their contract marriage. They assumed such moments had ambushed them and brought them together.
But Chloe had believed such moments would never exist between her and this man.
Of course. To her, this guy was just a boss she wanted to beat up, nothing more, nothing less. And to him, she was...
“No, why does he have to look like that...”
Chloe buried her face in the bed, agonizing.
Queen Mildred! Seriously! Ah!
She blamed the deceased queen again. For a man who was hyper-sensitive to even a draft of wind passing through his teeth, why did he have to look like that and make people misunderstand? And twice in one day!
She had entered this marriage with a grim determination, thinking he was a complete madman, but damn it.
“Ah!”
I almost thought he actually liked me...
“Argh!”
She thrashes on the bed as if she wanted to break it, but only innocent feathers poked out of the pillowcase.
The reason Chloe was so humiliated was simple: she expected Curtis felt exactly the same way. She had seen him leave with a red face. That meant he had felt the same thing she did.
That was why Chloe wanted to scream.
No! It's not! I don't like you! I don't! Absolutely not! And you don't like me either! Of course! Absolutely! It has to be that way!
Indeed. To her, Curtis Shan Berk was nothing more and nothing less than a crazy bastard, a bastard she wanted to beat up, or a dog of a boss who wouldn't drag her out of overtime hell.
Whenever she looked at him, she used to think, Wow, what unfortunate soul is going to end up living with that guy?
And after becoming that unfortunate soul herself, she scoffed internally, What kind of person who wants to ruin their life would ever date him?
Curtis undoubtedly thought the same of her.
Yet, shockingly, just a moment ago, her heart had fluttered just a tiny bit looking at Curtis Shan Berk.
Of course, she had scrambled back like a quick squirrel sensing a trap, but it was clear she had almost been tempted by the trap.
Wow, crazy. I need to keep a tight grip on my sanity. I'm going to ruin my life at this rate.
And it didn't take long to confirm her prediction was correct.
“...This place is awfully cramped, now that I look at it again.”
Those were the exact words Curtis Shan Berk spat out after returning, hands in his pockets, casually scanning the aide’s room.
He had definitely felt a flutter too. And after snapping back to his senses and looking at Chloe again, he must have fallen into a spiral of intense self-loathing. That was why he came back to the aide’s room and made petty complaints about it being cramped.
Still, this was humiliating in its own way.