You Think I Won't Talk? Chapter 81

’He knows... He knows... And I know He knoooows~’

As expected, Marianne’s Father will always know.

Protruding my lips on the inside as I averted my eyes on the outside, I sang a familiar song that fitted his rhetorical question. I’ve been discovered, and maybe exposed my malicious intents if the receiver of my anger did not perceive it before the Duke bluntly asked about it.

I had no intention to confirm it though. As they say, "Silence is worth a thousand words"..... Even more in my case.

Casting my eyes on the scholar, he seed bewildered by the Duke’s statent since his stance seed stiffer than earlier as he alternated between the Mister and .

"..."

I felt the silent gaze from the Duke, and pouting on the inside I refused to return his gaze.

"Oh my... How interesting... I never thought my kind child would get upset by a book. You must have liked that novel very much, sweetie."

"..."

’It’s not that...’

Tsk. Am I going to be treated like a child again? I’m twenty-eight on the inside d*mn it. I guess my physical age is affecting my actions in a childish way..... Seeing a younger self does give you a push to act more recklessly in the end...

’I was already reckless at my age... If I add the nice feeling of seeing and sharing the beautiful and young body of my cutie Anne every day... Sigh... Yeah..... I should turn it down a notch. I’m not actually an eighteen-year-old... D*rn it.’

I’ll stop for today. Only because I don’t want to embarrass myself further in front of the Duke.

Next ti though, if I still have so bad blood, I will make sure to co here without the Duke to witness my evil teasing.

’I have to keep a good reputation.’

Moderately reaching a resolution about my future actions and attitude, I began writing a note to swiftly change the topic as I made light of my previous sayings.

[Oh my! Father, it is indeed a pity that the novel has no sequel to its intriguing plot. However, I was rely exposing my thought on how saddening it is that such a great story has not been given its adequate end.

Scholar Theodore kindly suggested that novel to , that is why I wanted to share my grief with him since I recall him saying this book was one of his favourites.

Also, Father, I have found the book you ntioned. Could you tell if it is effectively the one you suggested?]

Showing the ssage to both of them, I handed the book I had in my hand, which I had also been using as a support to keep on writing these long texts I’ve been obligated to generate from early morning today to communicate... after a long ti...

’Ugh... At this pace, my hand will be tired by the ti to draw cos...’

"Oh... I understand. It is nice to comnt on books with other readers... Ah, yes. This is the right book, sweetie. Do you wish to take another book with you?"

To his question, I glanced at the scholar and, unwilling to leave behind my mischievousness...

’... Should I give him a new opportunity to bury himself?’

*******

The bluntness of the Young Lady had shaken Theodore once again.

On their first eting, he felt confident once he had learned about her incapacity to speak.

He was an introverted person, and talking to a Young Lady of her high position would have been a great challenge for soone as inexperienced as him when it ca to striking up conversations with the opposite gender.

Seeing her unexpected way to communicate with him, cald his anxiety further than he could ever expect. Even with people he was acquainted with, he felt a bit of apprehension to talk freely. Yet, the Young Miss was a blank paper who would show no reaction to his awkward self, and even after revealing his curiosity with questions about her condition, she would answer promptly with overflowing honesty, which even made him aware of when his curiosity was being a bother.

Usually, people hesitate to stop him when his interrogations start. Yet, the Young Lady answered the few he got to ask and put a halt to them shortly, kindly saving him the embarrassnt and discomfort that usually follows the malicious comnts of people who had fallen victims to his uncontrolled string of inquires, after being overwheld by them.

She went straight to the point and even asked soone like him for suggestions. The Young Lady appeared to be an interesting and nice person to Theodore since her attitude was one that kept him on the right track with little interaction, but with politeness and sincerity.

Theodore had taken into account the little information he had heard and seen about her when choosing the books for her to read. He had learned about the other young lady who never left her room, and now that he had t her, Theodore had estimated adequate to lend her books that were entertaining and easy to read since her seclusion must have deprived her of sailing into more challenging transcriptions of such topics she was requesting.

Therefore, he had chosen a Children’s book in attentiveness to help her restricted knowledge not be overwheld by the other difficult books that exist in that Library.

However...

Regardless, of those impressions, he still suggested "Companions and Peons" to her. He wanted to know what she would think about his lost father’s book.

Theodore wanted to know... Because deep inside he desired to befriend this unique Lady hidden under this Dukedom.

Her blunt display of impressions about the books today had him baffled. He could tell she was being sincere, yet sothing on the phrasing of her handwriting made him unsure of her goodwill to answer his curiosity.

’... I feel like... I am missing sothing...’

When he heard his admirable Lord assert her upset mood, Theodore felt horribly afraid to think what he was failing to see was probably the fact that he had angered the nice Lady he wanted to befriend.

’... I– Is– Is she t– truly u– uh upset???’

He was scared to look at her, thinking that he had done sothing wrong to the Lady. But then, the conversation continued.

Nonetheless of his bewildernt, her response revived his soul in a second.

Reading how appreciative she was of his lost father’s book to the point of saying it saddened her to not being able to know the next developnts of his story and, furthermore, calling his father’s work a "work of art"... made joy fill his chest in pride and gratitude.

’... Lady Marianne is a nice and interesting Lady...’

Recalling their first eting, he repeated the words he muttered after she quietly said goodbye in his head as she left him behind in the enormous Library.

When His Grace consulted the Young Lady if there was any other book she wished to take with her... Theodore had lited a tiny candle of expectation... to be asked for new proposals to read once again.

Trying to conceal his anticipation, he kept silent, awaiting her response. And so, the mont he saw her thin wrist lift to reveal her answer... He gulped down his wish to smile at the words written on those little pages.

[I wish to read another novel. Is Scholar Theodore available to help once again?]

’... This ti I know well which book, my nice Lady will like.’

"I am free at the mont, Young Lady. Give a mont to fetch the one I have in mind."

Leaving to retrieve the one book, Theodore left in great spirits, leaving behind his Lord and his Lady behind at his unpresentable workplace.

The Duke saw him go up the stairs, grateful for how polite and natural Theodore had treated his daughter. Turning back to look at her distracted eyes that were currently glancing through the pile of books and papers on what used to be a desk, Orland recalled her upset eyes a mont ago and internally laughed at how lovely and cute excuse she gave to hide her bothered mood.

"Dear, Should we take a seat over there while we wait for Theodore?"

Seeing her stand tall beside the pile of loose papers he suggested to take a seat at the study tables placed to the side.

The way to the Library was long, and her legs should not get too tired yet since she still has plans for the rest of the day.

’... I should take care not to let her overwork her body...’

The light nod in agreent gave start to their way towards the available chairs.

Without exchanging words, they waited in silence in the extrely silent library.

Taking advantage of his peaceful leisure ti, Orland took a thorough glance through the building he had spent countless hours in the past in what could be interpreted as amazent.

’It’s... Not as dark as I recalled it to be...’

anwhile he was lost in thought by the difference between his sights and his old mories, his daughter had begun to write sothing new without his knowledge.

The little taps on his right shoulder were the ones that finally brought his attention back to her.

Watching her fidget with her hands, the short sound of ripped paper was heard through the floor... and seeing the ticulous way his daughter folded the tiny paper in her hands... He watched with fascination her following gestures asking for his hand. Orland responded imdiately, extending his hand with curiosity.

Her bony fingers wrapped his hand as her other hand placed the folded paper on his palm and closed his fingers on top of it, implying for him to clasp that paper and take it with him.

"... May I... Read it?"

Uncertain if it was alright for him to open it, Orland asked for her permission to do so. And, to her agreent, he opened the little paper to read a wonderful ssage.

[May you be happy, healthy and loved for many years, Father.

Happy birthday, Dad.]

’Sigh... I might be getting old already... These little words are enough to make want to cry...’

Smiling softly, he answered his lovely child with a tender tone.

"Thank you, my bird."