Chapter 72 A Pleasant Conversation
I peeked from behind the corn leaves. The mosquitoes here really have no manners. But at least this whole night of effort wasn't for nothing.
After a long silence, Julian finally spoke up. His voice was low, nearly lost to the wind, but clear enough for me to hear. "About the harbor that day. I saw you leave as a... different Gisella."
Gisella didn't answer right away. She twirled the tips of her fingers, an old habit she always did when she felt cornered. "You must think I'm crazy, Sir Vance."
"I don't think that at all."
"I'm just tired," Gisella finally spoke.
Her voice wasn't shaking anymore; it sounded like someone who had just put down a heavy burden.
"That day at the harbor, I saw everything clearly. Didier, my parents, the kingdom's demands... it was all just a script. I was just a puppet. It felt like realizing I'd been walking down the wrong path for too long."
Julian leaned forward. The two-meter gap now shrank to half. "And you decided to stop walking?"
Gisella laughed softly. "I decided to walk in a different direction. Alone."
Julian fell silent. He looked at Gisella, no longer with the cold annoyance of before, but with genuine curiosity. "You aren't alone anymore."
Gisella turned quickly. Their eyes locked. The atmosphere in the cornfield suddenly didn't feel like a hideout anymore. It felt like the safest place on earth.
"Why did you come?" Gisella asked, bolder this time.
"You sent the letter."
"That... wasn't me."
Julian paused. He didn't look angry. Instead, the corner of his lip lifted slightly. "I don't care who wrote it. I just wanted to know if it was really you here."
Gisella blushed. She looked away, but this time she didn't move further away. "Ilse is really weird."
"She's weird, but she knows how to make me come."
I held my breath behind the corn leaves. Of course I do, I thought to myself. I know how your mind works better than you do yourself, Commander.
They kept chatting about trivial things.
About how ridiculous the palace rules were, about how Gisella actually preferred gardening over sewing, and about how Julian actually hated the taste of jasmine tea.
They laughed. Really laughed. Not the forced, polite laughter of a noble party, but loud, messy laughter.
Both of them looked at the sky, looked at the ground, then stole glances at each other while suppressing smiles.
It was honestly a pathetic sight to watch, but incredibly pleasant to hear. They had found their rhythm. No more excessive awkwardness. Just two people who had always been buried under negative stigmas and trapped by circumstance, and now, for one night, they could just be themselves.
I gave a small smile. The scenario was playing out perfectly. Julian had fallen right into the trap. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for the time bomb I'd planted to explode.