An Ode to Your Survival [Novel] Chapter 24 – A Questionable Tutor

Chapter 24

Careful not to let my cutlery clatter against the plate, I lifted my head. Laurel offered me a smile.

Laurel’s voice was soft and pleasant to the ear. Kirhin, taking a sip of his wine, arched his brows in pleasant surprise.

I could bet my life Kirhin would never dare say that to Damian’s face. Perhaps catching the look in my eye that said as much, Kirhin cleared his throat with a dry cough and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

Having had little appetite and merely picking at my food, I set down my fork with proper manners.

It was fortunate I had already laid down my fork. Had I not, I surely would have dropped it. Just as Laurel did.

At the sharp clatter, Laurel flushed red and ducked her head in haste. While she flustered over whether to pick up the fork first or answer Kirhin, a quick-footed maid brought a clean one to her side.

Pointing an upright finger toward Laurel, Kirhin turned his gaze to me.

Laurel looked at me with open envy. Puffed up with pride, Kirhin lifted his chin and threw me a wink.

Yes, truly breathtaking.

Though whether that brilliance sprang from concern for me, or from Laurel’s generous bust threatening to spill from her dress, was entirely up for debate.

I silently stared down at my plate, where food still remained. In truth, I couldn't deny that seeing Laurel had brought me a small sense of relief at first.

By a decision made between two men without my understanding, I had become the daughter of the Barony of Beekman overnight. I was swept along by a relentless tide of daily lessons and schedules, but anxiety gnawed at me every day. I tossed and turned in my sleep, sometimes waking in tears. Even this morning, I had pinched my thigh to make sure it wasn't all a dream.

Had it been a modest stroke of luck, I would have embraced it gladly, but this was a fortune so immense it upended my entire life. And an enormous fortune, I couldn't help thinking, was bound to cast an equally vast shadow.

If someone had asked me to pick a dependable adult from among the few I knew, Laurel would have been the first to cross my mind. She had always seemed composed and thoughtful.

Above all, hearing that she was saving money to live with her family had struck a tender chord in me.

Yet only now did the realization sink in that Laurel might not be the person I had imagined. What I knew of her was merely a sliver. She was not simply someone who looked after a stray kid she saw every day at the washing place and taught her how to read.

Laurel was a woman who burned through her wages and borrowed from loan sharks to pour money into a man, who surveyed the worth of my accessories before asking after the welfare of the girl she called a sister, and who knew how to flash an alluring smile at a highborn gentleman.

Prodded by Kirhin’s voice, I lifted my gaze. Laurel appeared modest and calm, yet an unmistakable desire gleamed in her eyes. Letting my gaze drop toward her full bosom, I opened my mouth.

At my words, Laurel hurriedly waved her hands in refusal.

My tone came out rather cold, and Laurel’s expression hardened faintly. Reaching for my water glass, I continued.

As I fixed a steady gaze on her, Laurel bit her lip as though she had been publicly humiliated. In that moment, a displeased voice cut in.

I hadn't expected Kirhin to intervene, and it took me by surprise. When I turned to look at him, I was even more taken aback to see him genuinely scowling. Clicking his tongue, Kirhin set down his knife.

The way he drew a distinct line between us made a chill settle deep in my chest. It sounded as though he were telling me to know my place.

Yet I hadn’t said it for my own sake. Laurel was saddled with debt, and House Beekman had now caught the loan sharks’ attention; without drawing clear lines around the money, trouble was sure to follow.

Of course, it was also true that the coy glances she kept shooting at Kirhin grated on my nerves.

I wanted nothing more than to throw those words right back at Kirhin as he dropped his voice in mock sternness, but I simply held my tongue. Hurt and resentment swelled inside me like a snowball. A chocolate mousse drizzled with my favorite orange syrup was served for dessert, but I didn't touch a single bite.

As Kirhin saw me off with a smile, I caught his eyes sweeping over Laurel’s chest as she sat there playing coy. Giving a silent bow of courtesy, I withdrew from the dining hall. My strides down the corridor toward my room were brisk and rough, but I didn't care.

Everything irritated me, and being so easily irritated only made me angrier. Stepping into my room, I threw the window wide open. A rush of cold wind poured inside, and I took a long, deep breath. Darkness had already fallen over the world outside.

A faint scent drifted along the breeze, calling to mind a cool, shaded summer woods. The shopkeeper had recommended a delicate, sweet floral fragrance, but I had chosen this one without a second thought.

Closing my eyes, I toyed with the perfume bottle tied to the sash at my waist. The narrow neck, the graceful curve of its shape, the intricate carvings, and…

Eyes far more beautiful than any jewel surfaced in my mind. Green eyes, cold and commanding, as though nothing in the world could ever shake them.

They were etched so deeply in my heart that I could summon them whenever I wished.

When would I ever see him again?

Just speaking the name aloud made my face burn, and I let out a soft sigh. Rather than dwelling on pointless thoughts, reading a book seemed far better.

If Kirhin chose to hire Laurel as a tutor, that was his decision, and whatever trouble came of it was his responsibility to bear. It was none of my concern.

Looking at the flighty Kirhin, one would never guess it, but the previous barons had evidently enjoyed reading, for the spacious study was well stocked with books across many subjects.

Of course, it was best not to touch the books tucked away in the left corner near the window. Two days ago, drawn by the title ‘Where the Cloak of Night Sings,’ I had pulled one out only to find it filled with illustrations of unclothed men and women intertwined; I nearly threw the thing across the room.

On closer inspection, all the titles in that corner were equally scandalous. A collection thoroughly befitting House Beekman, famous for its lechers. I had vowed never to look that way again, even by accident.

Without a fire lit, the study held a chilly draft. Drawing my shoulders in, I stood before the bookshelves, intending to pick out a volume and leave quickly. This section was lined with captivating novels and histories.

Guided by the flickering candlelight, I carefully selected two volumes after much deliberation: ‘Hairund,’ an epic poem recounting the life of King Yuzerk of the ancient kingdom of Udan, and ‘The Romance of Wandering and Straying.’

Kirhin had claimed to know only one person who went out of their way to read classics and epic poetry, but in truth, so did I. Though my interest had admittedly begun with the conversation between Damian and Kirhin on my very first day.

The epic was exceedingly long, yet within it lay a life of such grandeur as I had never imagined. To someone who had lived in a world no larger than the palm of her hand, epic poetry was akin to voyaging across a whole new land. With so many unfamiliar words, my reading was slow, but it was captivating enough to make me want to give up sleep.