‘What are you up to, all of a sudden? No way, are you trying to get my attention like this?'
When Deborah did not act according to what he expected, Philap was confused.
She is a woman who does not lose to anyone with her desire to show off and vanity.
It is a good ti to be boastful, so why is she so quiet?
Philap, who was looking at Deborah's back without realizing it, turned his head, frowning.
Because sohow, he felt like he was stopping himself.
"Wow."
At that ti, Mia, who was standing next to him, suddenly exclaid.
"What?"
"That girl with purple hair is really beautiful. There really are many elegant and sophisticated ladies in the capital."
Elegant?
If you know Deborah's personality, that word will never co out of your mouth.
Perhaps she really doesn't know anything about the world, since she is from a poor family.
Well, it was true that Deborah was sophisticated just by looking at her appearance. Perhaps because of the clothes that matched her hair color, there was sothing about her that caught your attention.
Her white and long neck was more prominent due to the black pearl necklace, and her body was clearly…
‘Damn it. What are you thinking? Are you crazy?'
No matter how weak a man is to what he sees, Philap, feeling like poking himself in the eyes, hurriedly turned to Mia and spoke.
"Mia, you are much more beautiful and elegant. You can't even be compared to a woman like that."
"Please don't say that."
Mia shook her hands, flustered.
"You are even more humble than anyone else."
Philap deliberately burst out laughing, in an ostentatious way.
***
‘Ti is really slow. I'll get a stiff neck like this.'
When I looked outside the window, my trapezius muscle was stiff.
‘They must have lost interest in by now, right?'
As I briefly glanced sideways after a reasonable amount of ti, Philap and Mia were chatting in their own world.
‘They're so lovey-dovey.'
May the two of them live happily ever after. And then I gazed at the professor in front of the pulpit, praying that he would not be an inconvenience to .
The first class is politics.
I took out a quill pen and a book called "The Understanding of Politics" from my bag.
‘What is this princess-style quill pen?'
A pink quill with jewels embedded on it.
I wondered why she bought such pretty school supplies even though she didn't even study.
‘Oh? But this is aweso.'
Is it because it's an expensive quill? The feeling of sliding through the paper is aweso.
Unlike the quill pens in the study, it was light and had an appropriate length, so the feeling as you wrapped your hand around it was also excellent.
As a writing instrunt that fits my hand appeared after a long ti, the doodles I used to do in my past college days popped out; and I happened to find one more thing Deborah was good at.
‘I'm a golden hand.'
I could clearly feel Deborah's dexterity because I was hopelessly untalented in my previous life.
I used this hand to portray the academy building I saw in the distance, through the window, with more precision than when I was a college student.
If I had such an amazing talent in my previous life, I might have been able to go to the architecture departnt.
After completing a masterpiece in the corner of the book, I, who had left my body to a train of thought, rubbed my dry eyes.
‘I'm sleepy…'
The letters in the book split into three or four, perhaps because I couldn't sleep well last night before the classes started.
The teacher's voice was monotonous so it sounded like a lullaby, and the sunlight in the place I was sitting was too good.
‘Ah, whatever. I'm a character who doesn't study anyway.'
My thoughts were only that far.
Falling asleep lying face down, I had a dream of my previous life.
Even in my dream, I was sitting in the classroom.
Now that I think of it, most of my 24 years of life were in a classroom. 12 years in elentary, middle, and high school, and 4 years in college. And in this world, academy right before graduation.
It's not so kind of never-ending story.
While I was lanting if a ghost were attached to because I couldn't study, I heard the doorknob of the classroom turning.
"Yoon Do-Hee."
I gritted my teeth.
The person who opened the door and appeared was Kim Han-Joon.
He is a good-looking bastard, but he's a bully.
"Han-Joon. Is sothing wrong?"
I should have started by spitting out curse words that I hadn't said, but in my dream, I was saying stupid things in a kind voice like a person possessed by sothing,
"Have you eaten?"
"Ah, not yet."
"Let's go eat together. I'll buy this ti."
"Thank you. I just happened to be hungry."
Hey! You've been getting expensive things from all the ti, don't take to the student cafeteria as if you're being generous.
And why am I impressed by getting a 5,000 won pork cutlet there?
"Do-Hee. After eating, I want to have coffee."
"Oppa. I'll buy the coffee!"
Shut up! Stop it.
"Can I try the new Starbucks nu?"
"Of course."
"By the way, if I collect two more stamps, I can get a diary."
"Ah, then I will give you all the stamps."
Did I even give him the stamps? What an eyesore.
As I watched the agonizing mories flashing through my mind, ashad, a slight tap on my shoulder made jump up.
‘What is this. Am I still dreaming?'
As soon as I opened my eyes, a handso blond-haired man ca into sight.
Looking at the man's face, I frowned.
I wondered how anyone could be so unbelievably handso.
I'm sure it's an angel who appeared out of pity because I was pathetic for having nightmares with Kim Han-Joon.
I watched the angel who suddenly intruded into my dream, with an obviously grateful feeling.
The scene of the sunlight shattering over the blonde hair, which seed to be made of lted gold, was divine.
If his hair was like the sun, his clear eyes were like an erald-colored sea.
The smoothly raised nose seed to have been carved by a craftsman, and the soft lips were beautiful as if the goddess had carefully crafted them for three days and nights.
His facial line was sharp yet delicate, and his long neckline and protruding Adam's apple were masculine.
It was a beauty that I couldn't take my eyes off. I had the illusion that ti was flowing slowly around that man.
Suddenly.
The angel-like man ca closer to and opened his mouth.
"Class is over, Lady Deborah."
I suddenly ca to my senses at the low voice ringing in my ears.
‘It wasn't a dream?'
Even after rubbing my dry eyes once, the unreal-looking man was still standing in front of .
"… Who are you?"
I mumbled in a sleepy voice.
"Do you not know ?"
Embarrassnt passed through his erald-like eyes.
"Should I know you?"
I answered like this, but the truth is, I was also embarrassed.
How can Deborah not rember such a handso guy? That's really impolite.
Only strong impressions remained in the fragnts of Deborah's mories, and that blonde man seems to have had no impact on her.
‘Is that possible?'
I think we should acknowledge Deborah's true love for Philap.
How much did she like him, that she didn't even look at a man like this?
While I was dwelling on it, the handso man in front of regained his composure and smiled.
As a soft smile appeared on his well-shaped lips, I was barely keeping calm and felt a sense of crisis.
‘Is this… Is he attacking ?'
"Haha, maybe you don't know. Isidor Visconti. That's my na."
The man who quickly regained his composure gave his na in a cool manner.
Isidor Visconti.
I thought I had heard it sowhere, and I rembered it; it was the na that was ntioned the most in the conversation of the young ladies I encountered at the Maisond.
‘He was everyone's favorite.'
Looking at his face, I fully understood.
If he was in Korea, he would have raised several buildings just by breathing in front of the cara.
"But, did sothing happen?"
At my question, the man held out sothing with his hand in leather gloves.
"This…"
What he handed over was a handout related to politics.
‘Did he get mine separately?'
It seems like he took a handout and waited until I woke up.
But that's weird.
Just from listening, he would know I'm the crazy woman around here; so why is he suddenly talking and taking care of ?
I suspiciously looked at the blonde handso man.
I was already suspicious, but because of the dream I had with Kim Han-Joon, I imdiately rembered the first ti I t him.
Kim Han-Joon also waited for to wake up, while I was sleeping on my face like now, and gave a handout that the teaching assistant handed around.
After that, I pretended to take care of this and that and worked hard like a greedy person.
"I don't need this kind of thing."
I coldly returned the handout he gave .
The academy's politics class was easy enough to yawn, anyways.
Compared to the level of difficulty of books of a 4th year major in college, it was like a piece of cake.
The handout seed to be a summary of the first part of the book, so morizing the book was enough.
"But there's nothing wrong with keeping it, right?"
"… Why are you so nosy?"
"You just had a nightmare, didn't you?"
"What?"
"Seeing you sleeping with that expression made want to be nosy. Ah, are you perhaps hungry? It's lunch ti now."
I was secretly taken aback by the natural change of topic.
What the hell is this punk?
"I'm not hungry."
"That's good. Actually, I'm not very hungry either. I'm simply going to drink tea."
"I don't have ti. Then."
After firmly rejecting him with a few words, I quickly moved away from him.
I could feel an absurd gaze stuck in the back of my head, but I hurried my steps as if I were being chased by sothing.
Because there has been a beeping sound ringing in my head since earlier.
‘That's dangerous.'
If I keep looking at that face, I may want to give it all without asking or figuring out his intentions.
Simply speaking, the blonde man was the one who awakened the pushover instincts that were sleeping inside of .
Like the idiot I am, I was hopelessly weak to n who suited my tastes, like Kim Han-Joon.
However, that Isi-what's-his-na had an inhumane face that lightly crushes the wall of taste.
‘There are a lot of people here and there to watch out for.'
Thinking that I couldn't slack off because this was a tragedy novel, I bit my nails.
***
His master, who confidently approached Princess Deborah saying he would use his face, rcilessly ca back alone.
Is it just his feeling? That face, which was always relaxed, looked sowhat depressed.
For so reason, he has an inkling that he is interested in Princess Deborah.
As he struggled to hold back a big smile that kept trying to appear, Miguel asked with his most innocent eyes.
"Lord. Didn't you tell that you would have an appointnt for lunch today and that I could go back first?"
Isidor narrowed his eyes at Miguel's sly question.
"Are you asking because you know or because you don't know? Whatever it is, that's the problem. My right-hand vassal is impudent or half-witted. It ans one of the two."
"Prince. Maybe the handso guy strategy didn't work. You seem to have beco a little sensitive?"
"I see there's nothing you can't say."
As Isidor kicked his shin violently, Miguel jumped, letting out a grumble.
After venting his anger on an innocent person, he secretly glanced at his face on the window and was apprehensive.
"There is no way this face doesn't work. I don't understand."
"I guess it's not to Lady Deborah's preference."
"It's not a face divided between liking or disliking. The golden ratio. Don't you know?"
"Exceptions exist everywhere. In the eyes of Princess Deborah, it seems she has more preference towards Mr. Philap than the Lord."
When Philap's na ca out, Isidor frowned lightly.
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