“I have a lot of respect for people who are good at economics. It’s a theory intertwined with mathematics, and I’m utterly hopeless at arithmetic.”
“That’s unexpected, Miss. I thought you were among the clever ones.”
“I was only ever taught the basic principles.”
“That makes sense. You probably had no need to learn such things.”
Anasta was not looking at Duran; instead, she was carefully examining the book’s thick leather cover.
Duran felt astounded that a mere book had surpassed him in holding her attention, but at the same time, her pure, unadorned interest piqued his curiosity.
“…Bolter’s economic theory is intricate and demanding, but the arithmetic laid out here isn’t difficult.”
Duran began to speak in a calm, soothing tone.
“Really?”
“See, it’s just basic arithmetic, isn’t it?”
Duran held out the book, pointing toward the equation.
Even though he consistently failed mathematics and arithmetic, that was due to the monstrous difficulty of the examinations; he had the standard formulas thoroughly memorized.
“It looks complicated to me.”
“It seems you truly don’t know the basics, Miss. Look here. It’s remarkably simple and easy. It’s just that the order of operations can be slightly confusing. If you look…”
Anasta focused entirely on the direction of his gaze, the movements of his hands, and his words.
Her attentiveness was so complete that he wondered if she was the very same woman who had treated him with stone-cold indifference only days before.
In any case, Duran felt thrilled.
“This is merely theory, but the methods of calculation in the economics I study are far more intricate and demanding. That’s why I told you earlier that it’s dull and tedious. Talking with you is so much more enjoyable than this.”
“…Certainly, after studying economics day after day, talking to someone would be pleasant.”
“You’re finally beginning to understand me.”
“Even so, you’re impressive. Because you study something this difficult every day.”
It was praise he had not received in a very long time.
More importantly, it wasn’t praise for his handsome face or physical prowess, but in two subjects he consistently failed: economics and mathematics.
Duran’s mood lifted, and he began rattling off the other formulas he knew with effortless fluency.
It was truly bizarre; whenever he sat at his desk to solve these formulas, they felt like the dullest things in the world.
“By the way, what brings you here? I thought you wouldn’t be coming to the greenhouse today either, Lady.”
Duran finally asked the question he had put off while absorbed in mathematics.
“Actually, I had a favor to ask of you, Sir.”
“A favor?”
“Rumor has it that you’ve enjoyed secret rendezvous quite often, Sir.”
· · ·
“And that you used to slip out of the manor in secret.”
· · ·
“I also heard that you regularly skipped your lessons.”
“…Whom did you hear that from?”
“Please tell me the secret.”
“…Pardon?”
Duran asked again, thinking he had misheard.
“I’ve been thinking all day and couldn’t find a way out of the manor. How can I slip outside and return without being discovered?”
Duran could not comprehend what was happening.
“…Are you serious? Above all, what makes you trust me enough to confide this? What if I tell my mother?”
“Would you?”
Duran was struck speechless for a moment, then finally burst into laughter.
This was the very first time someone had tried to use him as a tool.
He wanted to refuse out of sheer spite, but then he remembered the wager he had made with his friends.
He had staked a great deal on it. Letting this woman slip away now would be a bitter blow to his pride.
“Well, I can tell you.”
“Really?”
Anasta asked, her face brightening.
“Yes. And I can even help you.”
“If you would just tell me first—”
“I can’t tell you for nothing.”
Duran smiled skillfully.
“Once a week.”
· · ·
“How about coming to this greenhouse to chat with me? And if you’d like, I can teach you more mathematics.”
“Isn’t this offer entirely to my advantage?”
Duran nearly burst into laughter again at her straightforward, guileless question.
“That’s for us to see later. Let’s say for one month, once a week. How about we meet four times in total?”
· · ·
“You want to go out, don’t you?”
Duran coaxed Anasta gently.
She pondered in silence, then nodded with a resolute expression.
“Agreed.”
The military parade was two days away.
The parade season had come and gone for three years, but this particular year lingered stubbornly in Ryan’s mind.
Perhaps it was because of Anasta’s claim that she would find a way to escape.
Honestly, Ryan wanted to watch the parade.
Had he not been trapped in this wretched body, he would have marched in the parade, conversed with his peers, received the Emperor’s commendation, and eaten soup in the restaurant.
All that anticipated brilliance had been erased by sickness.
While Ryan wallowed in frustration over his grim reality, he asked Anasta indirectly when she brought him his medicine, “So, did you find a way to go to the parade?”
“Yes.”
Ryan was taken aback by her answer.
She hadn’t said a word all this time, so he hadn’t expected much…
“Could you come to my room for a moment?”
Still stunned, Ryan followed her to her room.
“Did you truly find a way?”
he asked, catching lightly hold of her wrist.
“Behind the manor in the garden, there’s an opening leading outside through the climbing vines in the northwest. We can slip out at night and return by morning.”
“Ha, that’s easy to say. Paul always checks to see that I’m asleep. Even at dawn. He’ll discover my absence immediately.”
He had assumed it would be an ingenious scheme, but it sounded utterly fragile.
“I have a plan to conceal it.”
“What is it?”
She swallowed hard, an uncharacteristic hesitation showing in her posture.
“Speak, quickly.”
“The thing is, our relationship must appear to be intimate.”
“…What did you say?”
“On the day of the parade, I will ask the Head Maid for contraceptive medicine.”
Anasta squeezed her eyes shut, then pressed on.
“If they believe you are spending the night with me, Sir, they won’t dare open the door to check.”
Ryan’s body froze, a faint tremor of shock running through him.
Just what was this woman saying…
“If I suddenly ask for contraceptive medicine, it will arouse suspicion, so starting from now, we must make it seem as though we are close.”
“What do you mean by—”
“Shh.”
Ryan tried to retort, but Anasta silenced him instantly by placing her hand over his mouth.
Startled by her sudden restraint, Ryan caught his breath as Anasta’s face drew close to his chest.
Knock, knock.
“Sir, it’s Paul. Sir?”
· · ·
“I’m coming in.”
Creeeak.
The sound of the door opening echoed. Now that Paul had verified Ryan was not in his own room, he would come to Anasta’s.
“Oh, what should we do?”
“Why are you asking me? What do you think, should we kiss or something?”
Flustered by Ryan’s words, Anasta nevertheless nodded.
“I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”
“What?”
Ryan could not believe his ears.
“Young Master!”
Meanwhile, Paul’s anxious voice sounded from just beyond the door.
Ryan looked down at Anasta’s delicate lips.
Indeed, if the door was shut under the pretense that they were spending the night together, neither Paul nor the Head Maid would dare enter.
Come to think of it, the plan made complete sense.
Ryan gazed at Anasta’s lips, his eyes quiet and clouded.
No, this was all just a plan. He was merely playing along with her inventive scheme.
“All of this… is at your request. Don’t regret it later.”
“I won’t—mmph!”
Ryan cut her off with a low, resolute whisper, leaning in to press a deep kiss against her lips.
It was sudden, even more than it was deep.
He breathed in the scent of Anasta close beside him, feeling the warmth of the moment cloud his thoughts.
When Anasta’s shoulders grew faintly slack from the sheer tension, Ryan unconsciously leaned closer before pulling himself together.
“Ah…!”
Anasta was startled by his sudden proximity, while Ryan tried to maintain the appearance required by the plan, taking care not to cross the line.
As the brief silence stretched between them, Ryan’s heart raced.
When Anasta inadvertently rested her hand against his chest, his agitation nearly gave him away.
Knock, knock.
“Miss, is the Young Master with you?”
It was Paul’s voice.
“Si— ah!”
Ryan pushed Anasta lightly against the wall as if he had been waiting for this very moment, playing out the scene just as the plan demanded.
He stood close, leaving no space that might arouse suspicion.
“Miss!”
The Head Maid and Paul entered.
The relief of having found Ryan did not last long; they froze in their tracks, flustered by the sight before them.
“Young Mas—”
“Get out.”
Ryan’s voice came out rough as he carefully blocked Anasta from their view.
“Did you not hear me?”
“Ah, y—yes. We apologize.”
Unable to hide their shock, the Head Maid and Paul pulled the door shut immediately.
With the click of the latch, Anasta felt the strength drain from her knees under the sheer weight of tension.
“Careful.”
Ryan caught her by the waist to steady her.
“Is it over now?”
“…There was no need to get quite so close.”
“If it had looked any less convincing, they would have suspected us.”
Ryan said, trying to conceal the racing thud of his heart.
“Why? Do you regret it now?”
“It isn’t that… But thinking about it, won’t they find our sudden closeness strange?”
“…Hmm, I don’t think so.”
“Pardon?”
Ryan recalled his recent behavior, having spent more time talking and sitting with Anasta than with any of the other maids or the butler.
“They won’t find it strange. Besides, getting caught once isn’t enough. Tomorrow, I’ll need to stick right by your side.”
Looking at Anasta’s stunned expression, Ryan smiled broadly.
“Well, it seems like a very good plan after all.”
If they continued kissing and acting like this, and then slipped away on the day of the parade, the plan would undoubtedly succeed.
He couldn’t help but feel pleased.
Ryan began to look forward eagerly to the days ahead.
END
