Chapter 19

Chapter 19

What is she up to now? Don’t tell me she’s trying to get my attention like this. He grew all the more suspicious of her when Deborah stopped acting predictably. She was a bigger exhibitionist and narcissist than anyone he knew. Today was the perfect time to be showing off—so why wasn’t she?

Pilav found himself staring at her without realizing it. He frowned and turned away, feeling like he was letting her get into his head.

“Wow!” Mia suddenly exclaimed beside him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“That woman with the lavender hair is so beautiful. There are so many graceful and lovely ladies in the capital, aren’t there?”

Wow? You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the kind of person Deborah is. Perhaps because of her modest background, Mia seemed quite out of touch with the workings of high society.

It was true that Deborah was very alluring, at least on the outside. The color of her hair suited her clothes perfectly, and there was something about her that just caught the eye. Those black pearls draw attention to her pale, slim neck, and her body...

Damn it, what am I thinking? I must be losing it. He found his own behavior absurd, no matter how easily susceptible men might be to visuals. Suddenly feeling the urge to poke out his own eyes, he instead said to the girl, “Mia, you are so much more beautiful and graceful. A woman like that couldn’t begin to compare to you.”

“Please don’t say that,” Mia waved her hand awkwardly.

“You are also so humble, unlike a certain someone I know.” Pilav burst into happy laughter, purposely ensuring his voice was loud enough to carry.

* * *

I wish time would pass more quickly. I’ll get cramps at this rate. My shoulders were stiff from staring stubbornly out the window for so long. I hope they’ve lost interest in me by now.

I shot a sidelong glance at them after a moment and spotted Pilav and Mia lost in quiet conversation. Two lovebirds, huh? I hope you two find satisfaction with each other. Praying that they wouldn’t make any waves in my own life, I turned my attention to the professor standing at the front.

Our first class for the day was political studies. I removed a textbook titled Understanding Politics from my bag, as well as a quill. What is with this princess-themed pen? It was pink, a gem embedded in the shaft. Deborah never studied. I wondered why she’d bothered with buying such pretty stationery.

Whoa. But this is nice. It seemed as if the pen was very expensive. The tip slid over the paper so smoothly that it sent shivers of pleasure down my spine. Unlike the quill in the study, it was light and just the right length, making it feel very comfortable in my hand.

Having discovered a writing implement I actually felt comfortable with, I started doodling on the pages like I’d done as a university student in my past life. This was how I discovered another of Deborah’s talents.

I’m practically an artist! I’d been terrible at anything artistic in my previous life, which made it easy for me to know exactly just how good Deborah was. I managed to pretty accurately depict the Academy building I saw in the distance through my window in far greater detail than I’d ever managed before. If I’d been this talented, perhaps architecture might not have been such a pain to study.

Completing the masterpiece I’d sketched on a corner of the page, I let my mind wander, rubbing at my eyes. I’m sleepy... I hadn’t been able to rest very well the night before, plagued with worries about coming to the Academy, and so now my eyes kept losing focus. The lecturer spoke in a boring monotone, and his voice was an effective lullaby. What was more, my seat got just the right amount of sunlight.

Oh, whatever. No one’s expecting me to study very hard, anyway. That was my last thought before laying my head down on the desk and falling instantly asleep. I dreamed of my past life.

In the dream, I was also sitting in a lecture room. Come to think of it, most of my twenty-four years of life had been spent inside some sort of classroom. Twelve years I’d spent in elementary, middle, and high school combined, and four years in college. Then right before graduating, I had been transported to a different world, where I was attending an academy.

When would it end? As I wondered if I was being haunted by a ghost who’d died without ever receiving an education or something, I heard someone opening the door to the classroom.

“Yoon Dohee.”

I gritted my teeth. It was Kim Hanjun who appeared through the doorway. He was quite handsome, but he was also the quintessential bully.

“Hanjun. What’s the matter?”

I should have started the conversation by cursing at him, but the me inside the dream seemed to be mesmerized by him and spoke in only the kindest of tones.

“Have you eaten?”

“N-no.”

“Let’s go eat together. I’ll buy this time.”

“Thank you. I was starting to get hungry.”

Asshole! You always had me buy you expensive food. Don’t act like you’re being generous by taking me to the cafeteria. And why did I feel touched over a five-thousand-won pork cutlet?

“Dohee, I’d love to get some coffee now that we’ve eaten.”

“Oh, let me buy the coffee!”

Shut up you! Cut it out!

“Do you mind if I try the new drink they’re selling at the Mermaid Cafe?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, by the way, I just need two more stamps to receive the free diary gift.”

“Oh, you can have all of mine, then.”

You even gave him your stamps? When will the stupidity end? I watched, drowning in my own humiliation, as this embarrassing scene from my past unfolded before me.

Someone patted me on the shoulder then, and my head shot up. Huh? Am I still dreaming? The first person I laid eyes on was an extremely good-looking man with blond hair. I frowned when I saw him. He was so handsome, it was hard to believe he was real. This had to be some sort of divine intervention. The heavens had taken pity on me, caught in my nightmare of Kim Hanjun, and sent an angel to rescue me.

Ecstatic to have my dream interrupted by this angelic man, I studied his face. His hair shone like real gold, and the way the sunlight reflected off the strands gave him an almost holy vibe. If his hair was like the sun, then his shapely eyes resembled the deep, emerald sea. His comely nose was a work of art, and the gentle shape of his lips was so pleasing to the eye, it was like a goddess had spent three full days perfecting them.

His features were sharp but delicate, and his long neck and pronounced Adam’s apple were attractively masculine. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. In fact, I felt as though time had slowed in his presence. Then the divine creature approached me and said, “Lady Deborah, the class is over.”

His quiet voice immediately returned me to reality. This isn’t a dream? I rubbed my eyes, which felt suddenly dry, but the gorgeous man was still standing in front of me when I looked again.

“Who... are you?” I murmured sleepily.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Something like confusion appeared briefly in his eyes.

“Should I know you?” I asked in a cold voice. But I was just as taken aback as he was. How could Deborah possibly forget a guy as ravishing as this one? It was ridiculously rude of her.

Most of the fragmented memories left behind in Deborah’s head were things that had left a deep impression on her. I could only assume that this man had failed to do so. How is that possible? I was starting to believe that Deborah had really been in love with Pilav after all. How deep had her feelings been for him that she hadn’t noticed a guy who looks like this?

While I was contemplating these idiotic thoughts, the angel standing before me seemed to recover his composure and grinned. I felt as if my newly regained calm was being threatened seeing those shapely lips curve into a smile. It’s almost like he’s attacking me with his beautiful face.

“Haha. Well, I suppose you haven’t heard of me. Isidor Bisconti. That’s my name.” The man casually introduced himself, seeming very relaxed now.

Isidor Bisconti. I thought I’d heard that name before. Then I remembered that the ladies at Maison had mentioned him. All of them seemed to like him quite a lot. His good looks certainly explained their behavior. If he’d lived in South Korea, he could have made enough money to buy several buildings simply by posing in front of a camera.

“All right, but what is it that you want?” I asked.

The man held something out for me to take with his white-gloved hand. This is… It was a handout no doubt passed around during the political studies class. Did he pick one up for me? It seemed he’d done so, and then waited for me to wake up. But it was a pretty odd thing for him to have done. Surely he must have already heard the rumors about me. Why was he being so nice?

I eyed him suspiciously. As if his actions weren’t already suspicious enough, the dream I’d had about Kim Hanjun reminded me of our first meeting. Hanjun had also waited for me to wake up after class and given me that day’s class handout. He’d continued to act considerately toward me, all while sucking me bone dry.

“I don’t need it.” I pushed it away coldly. The political studies class here at the Academy was extremely boring for me—compared to the level of difficulty my senior year textbooks posed, this was child’s play. The handout was probably a summary of the first half of the chapter. I didn’t need it—I would just memorize the entire book.

“It doesn’t hurt to keep a copy just in case, does it?” he said.

“Why are you meddling in my business?”

“You had a nightmare just now, right?”

“What?”

“You were frowning in your sleep. It made me want to meddle. Tell me, are you hungry? It’s lunchtime.”

I was surprised to find that he was such a smooth talker. What was his angle? “No. I’m not hungry.”

“That’s fortunate. I wasn’t feeling all that hungry myself. Shall we go have some tea?”

“I don’t have time. Goodbye.”

Without another word, I turned and fled. I could feel his confused stare on my back, but I hurried away as if he was chasing me. Warning bells had been going off in my head during the entirety of our conversation. He’s dangerous.

If I kept looking at his perfect face, I’d end up relapsing to my old ways—I’d let him use me and I’d do it with pleasure. In other words, that beautiful blond man was re-awakening my inner sucker. I had an infatuation for handsome faces, and I was defenseless against guys like Kim Hanjun, whose looks perfectly suited my tastes. This blond guy, on the other hand, had a face that transcended taste.

There are so many people I have to avoid. Reminding myself that this was a tragedy novel and I couldn’t let my guard down, I bit at my fingernails nervously.

* * *

Miguel’s liege, who’d confidently approached Lady Deborah counting on his good looks to do the heavy lifting, returned alone. Miguel couldn’t be sure of it, but Isidor looked as if his ego had taken a blow. He wasn’t sure why but he was starting to like this Lady Deborah.

Doing his best to keep a smile from forming on his face, Miguel asked in the most innocent voice he could muster, “My lord. Didn’t you say you’d be having lunch with someone? I recall you told me to go ahead without you.”

Isidor’s eyes narrowed at Miguel’s snide tone. “I can’t tell if you’re genuinely asking. Either my right-hand man is an idiot, or he’s getting cocky.”

“My lord. I’m guessing that your looks had no effect on her whatsoever. You seem rather touchy at the moment, is all.”

“You’ve even grown presumptuous.” Isidor kicked Miguel hard in the shin, who jumped and groaned loudly. Finished with taking his anger out on Miguel, Isidor glanced at his reflection in the window and fell deep into thought. “Impossible. How could she possibly resist my good looks? I don’t understand it.”

“Perhaps you just aren’t to her taste.”

“Mine is not a face you can dislike. Ever heard of divine proportions?”

“There are always exceptions. I guess Lady Deborah prefers Lord Pilav to you, my lord.”

Isidor’s brow pinched at the mention of Pilav’s name.