Episode 25
How long had he been sitting there? Was he a phantom? Or was my vision merely mistaking a shadow for a man?
Holding my breath, I stared fixedly at him. I feared that if I made a sudden move, he would vanish into thin air. I only wanted to look at him a little longer.
As always, he was dressed in inconspicuous black clothes draped with a heavy-looking black cloak. Yet if he truly wished to go unnoticed, wearing a mask would have served him better. Or perhaps covering those piercingly bright eyes.
After all, mere darkness could never hide someone like him.
His low, resonant voice broke through the stillness like lifting a curse. My heart finally began to pound with loud, erratic thuds. Damian reached a hand out toward me.
If the book in my hands at that moment had been Where the Curtains of Night Sing, I would rather have thrown myself out the window. Swallowing hard, I hesitated before stepping forward to hold the volume out to him.
Flipping idly through the pages, his eyebrows rose.
The dark hair rippling across his neat brow looked wonderfully soft. As I stared, spellbound, at the long, firm fingers holding the book, Damian gave it a light shake.
Feeling slighted, my reply came out rather blunt. In truth, I had wanted to cling to his leg, sit at his feet, and beg to know when he had arrived and when he would return.
Damian merely gave a low chuckle, however, and set the book down on the side table.
My lips pouted at titles meant for a five-year-old. I wanted to glare at him, but the impulse vanished as Damian rose from the sofa.
Startled by his sudden approach, I reflexively stepped back. The scent of the chilly night air drifted past my nose on a passing draft. Tilting his head, Damian fixed his gaze on my waist.
My heart dropped into my stomach, and I hastily clutched the bottle in my hand. I was terrified he might see through me and realize why I had chosen it in the first place.
As I backed away with wary eyes, Damian let out an amused scoff and furrowed his brow.
Watching him place a solemn hand over his chest made me snort. He seemed to have forgotten that I already knew his true identity. Pouting with displeasure, I muttered under my breath,
My gaze drifted back toward him at the nonchalant retort. Studying him closely, I asked cautiously,
Damian shook his head without a second's hesitation. When I stared at him, dumbfounded, the corner of his mouth curved into a wry smirk.
Had I been God, I would have snorted in utter disbelief. A sigh slipped out through my lips before I could catch it.
Damian’s narrow eyes widened in genuine astonishment. His hushed voice came swiftly in return.
I had only read a little of the beginning. My etiquette tutor had told me to copy and memorize passages from the scripture if I wanted to quickly broaden my vocabulary to sound like nobility.
Naturally, I had enough tact not to explain that outright, especially when I noticed a slight shift in the way his handsome eyes regarded me.
Letting out a faint chuckle, he crossed his arms.
Swallowing dryly, I mustered up my courage and spoke.
Damian’s expression showed more than mere surprise. His sharp gaze felt as though it could pierce my innermost thoughts, sending a prickle of tension down the nape of my neck, yet I stood my ground.
Though I truly was curious about the epic, asking to borrow it would ensure he came here once more. He would have to return when bringing it back, too. That meant I would get to see him twice more.
In the ensuing silence, Damian narrowed his eyes, catching whatever lingered in my gaze, before letting out a brief laugh.
Blinking blankly, I lowered my head to follow his gaze. He was looking at my hand wrapped around the perfume bottle.
Damian pulled back with an indifferent face. In utter disbelief, I gripped the perfume bottle a little tighter. While I had anticipated he might refuse to lend it, I never expected him to act so childishly.
Looking at me with an amused, dismissive gaze, Damian drove the point home.
I had no way of gauging the book’s value, but his words did not sound like a lie. I wrestled with myself for a moment before arriving at a rational decision.
There was no reason for Damian to suspect I chose the green gem because of his eyes. If he did, I wouldn't even be able to wear the new green dress made for me today.
I’ve always liked green. Ever since I was born, I smiled whenever I saw green. If he asks, that’s what I’ll tell him.
Firmly resolving this in my mind, I composed my expression and slowly untied the cord bound around my sash. When I held out the perfume bottle, he gave a faint smirk, spun the cord around his finger, and took it. It had felt small even in my hand, but nestled in his, it looked like a child’s toy.
At my impatient question, he paused in stroking the bottle and raised an eyebrow.
Those flippantly uttered words struck my mind like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened, and before I realized it, I had seized his arm.
Unprepared for such an intense reaction, an awkward smile crossed Damian’s clean-cut lips. He gave a nonchalant shrug.
It was a lie. Having nursed the sick up close for so long, I could tell. What radiated from him was an overflowing vigor of good health, not the precarious, flickering flame of one standing beside the Reaper.
Even so, my chest squeezed so tight I could barely breathe. As I stared at him as if my soul had been drawn out, Damian held the perfume bottle back out to me.
Staring straight into his eyes without blinking, I spoke.
“And be sure to return it the day you bring the book. If you don’t give it back, I’ll haunt you as a ghost to chase you down. It’s truly precious to me.”
It must have sounded like a curse, but I didn’t care. Blinking slowly in surprise, the corners of Damian’s lips softened into a gentle curve. He curled a finger and gave my cheek a light tap.
As I gripped his arm even more desperately, laughter finally slipped through his teeth. Seeing the fine crinkle at the corners of those beautiful eyes made the sharp tension within me unwind a little. Sending me a smiling glance, Damian lowered his voice.
He was a man of nothing but lies. Yet it was true that his smile had lightened the weight on my heart.
When I let go of his arm and stepped back, he twirled the bottle by its cord and asked,
Having gotten the answer he wanted, Damian turned to walk away. I hurried after him.
