A Suspicious Proposal -1-
Academy girls' dormitory. Amid dreams and hopes, a girl's thrilled laughter echoed through the air.
"Whoa..."
The girl lay on her bed, clutching her trembling chest. With her pink hair splayed out, she was Yuria, the heroine of The Academy's Strongest Men Fall for Me. In a great mood from the morning, Yuria gazed at the sealed letter while lounging on her bed.
From: Ricardo
Clutching the letter to her chest—red wax seal intact and wafting lilac perfume—Yuria basked in the morning sunlight with a blissful smile. It was her first letter from Ricardo. She'd never gotten one even while attending the academy. She had no idea what it said, but she was sure it wouldn't be stiff or formal. This letter marked a new beginning, different from before.
Things were still awkward between them, lingering resentments clouding their hearts, but starting from "friends" felt like a whole new distance to Yuria. What was it? A fluttering excitement, maybe. She was feeling something she'd never felt with anyone else, all from a single unremarkable letter. Sure, she and Ricardo were still awkward, but hope lingered in her heart that someday they'd get close like before. She didn't want to keep dredging up their old bad blood forever. It might take a lot of time, but someday... maybe their stalled relationship could grow again. Yuria hugged the letter tight once more, a shy smile on her lips.
"Haa... so nice."
What could be inside? It'd probably start with concern for her health in the cold weather. The weather in Hamel must be quite chilly. I worry you might catch a cold this winter. Then it'd shift to casual chit-chat. Light daily stories. What he ate today, or fun little things she didn't know about, jotted down breezily. And maybe that he missed her...
"What am I even thinking..."
Her cheeks burned at the sappy thoughts. She wanted to miss him like a precious side of sausage she savored bit by bit. He'd been someone she hated, yet here she was, heart racing like a fool, smile glued to her face. Yuria wanted to savor this feeling a little longer. This thrilling time was just too good.
"Ugh, whatever..."
Yuria liked Ricardo. Despite her shyness and bashfulness, she was quick to self-assess in matters of love. She admitted she liked men with red hair, a cool demeanor, and a fiery personality. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when or how she'd fallen, but at some point, Ricardo started appearing in her dreams. She loved the idea of him sitting beside her, alone and eating by herself. No matter what others said. Even if they sneered about lowly scum hanging together, she adored Ricardo's kind smile.
And who could blame her? No one had been by her side back then. Now she had Mikhail and Ruin, her two closest friends, but they hadn't been there in her darkest times—so she leaned on Ricardo more, liked him more.
Yuria closed her eyes slowly, a thrilled smile playing on her lips. Her thoughts kept drifting back. To the recycling bin where she'd been crying, Ricardo approaching casually and chatting like it was nothing— that calm image flickered before her eyes. When she'd been bullied, he'd quietly come over and asked, "Why are you crying here?" Closing her eyes, she could almost hear his steady voice vividly.
Maybe she'd slowly, bit by bit, opened her heart to him. Sure, his looks matched her ideal type perfectly, but she sensed a masculine charm neither Ruin nor Mikhail had. They were all friends, but the weight felt different. Back when they weren't close, Ruin, Mikhail, and even the crown prince had just been bystanders. That's why she'd been so disappointed in them. Why Ricardo's sudden cold turn had crushed her more.
And why stabbing Ricardo with her own hands filled her with such guilt. She'd been hated for things she didn't do, and scolded for finally mustering courage. What could she even say? Yuria couldn't find the right words. With a sigh, she opened the envelope with trembling hands.
Her first letter from Ricardo. No clue what he'd written. That's why it was all the more exciting. All the more nerve-wracking.
*Rip... rustle.*
Pulling out the letter paper, Yuria squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. Counting in her head. One. Two. Three. What words would it hold? Heart pounding, she opened her eyes—and her first reaction was a gasp laced with complicated emotions.
"...Huh?"
Staring at the letter, Yuria blurted in confusion. No wonder.
"What the hell does it say?"
She couldn't read it. He'd warned her his handwriting was bad, but not this bad. Frowning, Yuria strained to decipher it.
"G...oo...d... m...or...ning."
For the first time, she was grateful for those boring ancient language classes she'd hated as useless. Who knew they'd come in handy? Praising her past self, Yuria squinted and struggled over the page. Good thing I studied hard. It was precious. Even this atrocious scrawl. Grasping the thread of her first love, Yuria felt happy.
*
A bright morning at the mansion. For once, the lady and I—the two hopeless cases—sat on the bed sipping warm black tea, basking in the glow of success while gazing outside.
"Slurp... Mmm... It's got this incredibly heavy taste."
"Yeah... Bitter and thick."
After years of cheap green tea, the lady savored the pricey black tea with fancy words. Pinky hooked through the handle, she slurped with a sluuuurp, basking in the cool breeze—pure nobility. They say circumstances make the man. Seems money turns us into people too.
Sipping tea crafted by artisans, the lady and I exchanged refined smiles. Minds in sync. Wanting the same thing.
"No clue what it tastes like."
"Yeah. Used to be good, now it's bland and meh."
The lady set down her cup, dropping the wise verdict. Tongues tuned to junk food weren't ready for luxury. I felt the same. It was good, sure, but something was missing. Not into tea, so I couldn't say what—but definitely not my taste. Frowning in honest distaste, the lady stuck out her tongue at me.
"Wanna do cocoa?"
"I'll brew two cups, including mine."
"Put marshmallows in mine."
"You'll gain weight. No."
The lady nodded sullenly at her butler's firm refusal.
"Chocolate then."
"That's even worse."
"Boring."
Her bellybutton bigger than her belly. As I headed down with the leftover tea, the lady—staring blankly out the window—spotted Gomtangi in the yard and yelled.
Woooof!
"Shut it!"
Woooof!
"I said shut it!"
"Leave him be, miss. He's just excited."
"Still noisy."
The lady chucked jerky from her treasure pouch to shut Gomtangi up. Spoiled house pet, but she rewarded generously. I nodded approvingly.
But why was Gomtangi barking? He rarely did. When he did, it meant visitors—but no one visited this mansion. My theory. Debts all paid, no creditors coming.
I tilted my head and approached the lady.
"Didn't hear anything?"
Chin on the windowsill, she feigned nonchalance.
"Nope."
"Really?"
Suddenly, a man's yell from the window.
Lemmee... gooo...!
A vaguely familiar voice. Question marks popping over my head, I eyed the lady.
"Doesn't sound like nothing?"
Lemmee gooo! Bear cub!
Beaaar.
Let go!
Beaaar!
Before I burn you... let go...!
Wooooof!
"Miss?"
Even hearing the man's screams outside, the lady played dumb. Cool as ever, staring curiously. She told me casually,
"Gomtangi's playing with grass."
"Grass?"
"Yeah... some toy that looks like moss."
I peered slowly out the window. Gomtangi was chomping someone's pants, parading across the yard.
"Ah."
I turned and headed to the kitchen.
"Nothing at all, then."
Startled thinking it was a guest—good thing it wasn't. No guest there. Hoping Gomtangi cleans the yard thoroughly, I cheered him on silently.