Chapter 83 A Scheduled Affair
Claus took a long breath. He didn't look away, instead staring at me in a way that made me want to swallow hard. This man's ego was truly unpredictable. After a few seconds of silence that felt like an hour, he finally spoke.
"If you truly want to get to know me," his voice was flat again, cold, yet with a commanding tone that couldn't be argued with, "ask me directly. There's no need to go through Julian. That's a waste of time."
I blinked. What?
"Starting next week," he continued, as if he were scheduling an important business meeting, "we will meet every week. In the midst of my busy schedule, I will make the time. If you want to fix our relationship, you have to put in the effort. Understood?"
I went silent. My brain stopped functioning. Every week? Meeting Claus? Voluntarily?
In my head, I was cursing up a storm. What kind of joke was this? My original plan was just to save Gisella, keep her safe, and ensure she didn't end up miserable at Didier's hands. Now, as a bonus, I had a "side job" dealing with the most powerful Duke in the empire.
Great. Just perfect.
Now I had two burdens. Protecting Gisella and Julian, while simultaneously satisfying the ego of this strange Duke so he wouldn't get suspicious. I was trapped. Really trapped in a scenario I'd created myself.
"Well? Do you agree?" he asked, demanding an answer.
I had no choice. "Yes," I said curtly, trying to hide the overflowing frustration. "Of course, Duke."
He didn't reply. Instead, he reached into the deep pocket of his coat. His movements were slow, calm, as if he were setting a trap. He pulled something out and placed it between us, on the carriage seat.
Something black, made of thin silk. My left glove.
It was my glove. The one that had fallen on the bookstore floor when I ran after he ambushed me a few days ago.
"You dropped this at the bookstore," he said. His voice was low, almost like a terrifying whisper. "You were in such a rush, Ilse. As if you were doing something you shouldn't have been doing."
He stared at me, letting the glove lie there as silent proof that he had been watching me long before today. He knew. He knew I was more than just a girl who wanted to "get to know him."
"So," he smiled faintly, a look that was both mischievous and challenging. "Next week, we begin. Don't be late."