Y-Yuan instantly puffed up with pride and regained his composure. He wrote a new letter with a smile covering his face. The letter contained the gist, ’If that is truly your intention, when would be a good ti for to co for a drink?’
But a reply ca back as sharp as a knife the next day.
[To Marquis Hampton.
I take up my pen in admiration of the culture of the dignified Marquis Hampton, who knows the leisure of a glass of wine. However, wine, like human wisdom which grows with age, is a thing that becos more delicious the more it is aged... (omitted)... I hope you will consider the nature of the beverage that is wine, and I will be eagerly awaiting only the day I can joyfully share a glass of wine with the Marquis.
—Gillen Damian Balthazar de Blake, Duke]
The letter was strangely less sincere in length than the previous one, and again, it expressed a refusal. But in Yuan’s eyes, the last line shone the most clearly.
"So he’s saying he’ll be counting the days until he can et . He probably marked it on his calendar too."
"It is not written that way."
Ricardo said, reading the letter again.
"Don’t you know what an allusion is? An allusion? And this Mister is a nobleman. Nobles can’t speak directly; they always beat around the bush. What this Mister really wants to say is in the last line."
"If you look at it that way, it seems even more like a letter of refusal."
"What do you know? You’re a robot."
"Because I am a robot created by you, Marquis, my intelligence is high and my insight is excellent. I can feel emotions, and I can also grasp the emotions of others by analyzing their expressions and voices. Since you created that way, Marquis—"
"That’s enough! Get out!"
"...Yes, Marquis."
Ricardo left the laboratory, looking strangely dejected.
For several days, Yuan had been cooped up in his lab wearing only his pajamas, creating all sorts of inventions. It was because the ti spent waiting for a reply from Gillen was strangely nerve-wracking and anxious. He spent his ti eating and sleeping in the lab to manage his troubled mind.
And the reply he received after waiting like that was another refusal! Of course, he did write that he was waiting for their eting, but in truth, what Ricardo said wasn’t wrong either....
"Wait a minute!"
Yuan unfolded the crumpled letter again.
"This... must be a coded letter."
Think about it. Two refusals in a row, was such a thing even plausible? Duke Blake was a pathetic lovestruck fool who had shouted his love for Yuan for the whole world to know and even ended up holding a press conference. At least, that was how it was in Yuan’s mind.
’Could it be that he’s being watched by that Nogari-sothing reporter....’
Yuan had stopped paying attention to it since Gillen said he would handle it, but maybe that insect bastard was tougher and scarier than expected. Yuan’s eyes lit up as he read the letter once more.
[To Marquis Hampton.
I take up my pen in admiration of the culture of the dignified Marquis Hampton, who knows the leisure of a glass of wine. However, wine, like human wisdom which grows with age, is a thing that becos more delicious the more it is aged... (omitted)... I hope you will consider the nature of the beverage that is wine, and I will be eagerly awaiting only the day I can joyfully share a glass of wine with the Marquis.
—Gillen Damian Balthazar de Blake, Duke]
"S... a... v... e... m... e.... Save ?!"
Yuan shot up from his seat.
"I knew it! Why is this Mister saying this kind of thing in code? If it wasn’t for a genius like , I would have overlooked it, that son of a..."
Yuan gripped the letter and imdiately cast a teleportation spell. Whoosh, in an instant, the scenery before his eyes changed. A spacious, sunny, and antique room—it was Gillen’s bedroom.
"Hey, Mister... Your Grace! Your Grace!"
The bedroom was empty, so Yuan shouted as he opened the bedroom door and went out.
"Your Grace! Co on out! Let’s talk."
But the inside of the mansion was strangely quiet. Of course, a few maids wandering around on the first floor looked up at the second floor in surprise, but the key figures, like the old goat-like butler, the skewer-like head maid, and the duke’s dog-like adjutant, were nowhere to be seen.
"You there! Where is the Duke?"
Yuan singled out a maid on the lower floor who was staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. At that, the maid’s face turned bright red.
"Aack! I-I’m sorry!"
The maid squeezed her eyes shut, didn’t even answer, and ran off into the distance.
"What, what’s with her? Was she surprised by my handso face?"
As Yuan muttered, running a hand through his hair, the sound of soone coming down the stairs from upstairs was heard.
"O-oh my god, Yuan! Y-you, you, how, now, that’s, what...!"
The person who appeared at the landing was Cecilia. She, too, like the maid from before, stuttered with her eyes wide and mouth agape. Yuan smirked.
"Cecil, it’s not the first ti you’re seeing , so what’s wrong? Do I look surprisingly handso because it’s been a while?"
"N-no, you, you! You’re just wearing pajamas that show all your skin! D-did you just co out of my father’s bedroom dressed like that? Are you crazy?"
Only then did Yuan realize what he was wearing. He was wearing a long, gown-style top with a plunging neckline and flimsy, flowing bottoms. Both the top and bottom of the pajamas were made of a thin, white fabric, so even his nipples were visible, and all of the underwear he was wearing underneath could be seen.
"...Pardon ."
Yuan said that and snapped his fingers. Instantly, his clothes changed from pajamas to a shirt, pants, socks, and shoes.
"Why on earth are you here? My father made a promise, you know. That he would cut off all contact with you. And I definitely refused your proposal. Don’t tell you ca to propose again? Please don’t tell that, Yuan."
"Do you think I’m like the Duke, who clings to soone who says they don’t like him? It’s a virtue to understand when you’ve been rejected once."
Yuan wouldn’t have known it, but he had just made his first public declaration that he would walk a different path from the original story. It could be that seeing Gillen had led to so self-reflection, or it could be that he was just making an excuse because his attention was more focused on Gillen than on Cecilia, but in any case, he had begun to go down a different path from the Yuan of the original story. Right from this very mont.
"Then why did you co?"
Cecilia asked.
"I received a letter from the Duke. It contained a code, and it ant ’save .’ If it wasn’t for , no one would have been able to interpret it. Where is the Duke?"
"What? My father sent a letter asking to be saved? Let see it!"
Cecilia’s expression turned serious. Yuan handed the heavily crumpled letter, which he had been gripping tightly in his hand until then, to Cecilia. Cecilia’s eyes quickly scanned the letter. However, her face grew stranger and stranger.
"Where does it say to save him?"
"Look closely. Here’s ’sa,’ here’s ’ve,’ here’s ’,’ ’o’! It’s saying, ’Save , o’!"
"...It just looks like you’re forcing it. It doesn’t look like that to at all. It looks like a typical letter of refusal."
"Hah.... This is why I can’t even mix words with stupid, ah, excuse , ordinary people."
"That’s a really rude thing to say. But really, nothing is wrong with my father. He went out on a date with Viscount Iple today. That’s why the servants also went out with him to attend to him. You scared for nothing!"
"What? A d-date?"
Yuan froze like a stone and stared creakily at Cecilia. The mont he heard the word ’date,’ it didn’t imdiately compute—sothing extrely rare for the genius Yuan—and he had to think it over several tis.
"A date, is that the thing? Where people who are dating... et up to play and eat and do all sorts of lovey-dovey crap?"
"Well, you could put it that way. It’s not that my father is dating Viscount Iple. Actually, they went to talk about charity work, but I think the two of them like each other. So it’s a date, what else would it be?"
Only after hearing Cecilia’s explanation did Yuan’s stiff expression soften a little.
"Cecil, you’re the type who’s a bit clueless, aren’t you? The Duke doesn’t like Viscount Iple or Apple or whatever. The one the Duke likes is, unfortunately, ."
A date with Viscount Apple. Ha! I almost fell for it. That’s right. It was just Cecil’s assumption.
Yuan thought so and lifted one corner of his mouth into a smile.
"So in the end, he went out for work. This is truly absurd."
"No, actually, my father once told that after I get married, with Viscount Iple—"
"Stop it, Cecil. I see now that your opinion is not helpful at all. Can you just tell when the Duke will be back? I’ll co back then. In more appropriate attire. I absolutely must find out the aning of this code."
"No, I’m telling you it’s not a code—"
"Hmph, the Duke must have it tough. That you, the daughter he has cherished and doted on, are so indifferent to your father’s well-being. What would have happened if it wasn’t for ? You should be grateful to , Cecil."
Yuan left those words and disappeared again with teleportation. Cecilia, who was suddenly left alone, clutched her chest as if in disbelief.
"What is really wrong with him? He was cooped up in the magic tower in his past life, and now he suddenly appears! Claire! Ivy!"
Cecilia lifted the hem of her dress and walked quickly up the stairs. She felt like she couldn’t bear it without imdiately gossiping about Yuan to Claire and Ivy. On the other hand, she was also a little worried about Gillen, just in case.
"Claire! Ivy! Let’s get ready to go out!"
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