Chapter 85 The Varannes Family Uproar
I walked quickly into the house, rushed up the stairs, entered my room, and slammed the door until the wooden frame vibrated. I took off my hat and threw it aside. Thud. The hat landed haphazardly on the floor.
I gulped down some water from the carafe on the table. It was refreshing, but not enough to cool down my boiling head. I had succeeded. Claus was no longer looking at me like he wanted to behead me. But that victory tasted like poison. I had just tied myself down to a weekly schedule with that man.
Damn it. I had just walked into the wolf's den of my own free will.
Just as I was about to lie down, a commotion from downstairs ruined my peace.
I was curious, what was happening? Weren't my parents supposed to have left?
I immediately got up, opened the door, and went downstairs.
The scene in the living room was worse than I imagined.
Mother stood there, eyes teary, her face flushed with excitement.
She grabbed my hands as if I had just been crowned queen.
"Ilse! You didn't tell me he was Duke Claus!" Mother was hysterical. She said the name with a worshipful tone, as if Claus were a god who had just descended from the sky. "The King's son! Royalty! Oh, God, my daughter..."
Father was there too. He wasn't as hysterical as Mother, but he was pouring wine into his glass with slightly trembling hands. "Varannes," he muttered softly. "Access to the Duke's family will open trade routes that have been closed for so long. This is a golden opportunity, Ilse. Keep him."
I pulled my hands away from Mother. "He's not a crown prince, Mother. He's a Duke. He's even more terrifying."
Mother didn't listen. She was too busy fantasizing about dance parties and silk dresses. Father was too busy calculating the profits. I walked past them, ignoring their chatter about the family's brilliant future. They didn't care about Ilse. They only cared about the big name now attached to Ilse.
On the other side of town, the mood was not this cheerful.
At the harbor, Julian Vance stared blankly at the door of his office. It was late, past the afternoon into the evening, but he was still sitting there. His hand held the last letter from Gisella; the paper was already a bit crumpled from being opened too often.
No knock. No Ilse Varannes coming with a flat face and a letter hidden under her cloak. Julian frowned. Did something happen to her? Was her plan discovered?
At the Mercer residence, Gisella was doing the same thing. She paced in front of her bedroom window, stealing glances at the gate. Ilse didn't come. There was no letter from Julian. Her world, which had just felt alive, suddenly became cold and silent again.
Meanwhile, inside the carriage speeding away from the Varannes estate, the atmosphere was much stranger.
Claus sat back. His hand played with the black silk glove that belonged to Ilse, which he had confiscated back. He stared at the object for quite a while. Then, slowly, the corners of his lips lifted. A rare, thin smile, and for some reason, it felt awkward.
He remembered Ilse's expression earlier. When she was angry, when her eyes widened in annoyance because her schedule was ruined, when her face flushed with embarrassment in front of her parents.
Claus chuckled softly, a low sound that echoed in the quiet carriage. He shook his head, feeling like there was something wrong with his own brain. Why was it... why, when he saw Ilse scolding him, did the girl suddenly look attractive?
"Trouble," he murmured softly, staring at the glove in his hand. "Since when did she start looking that beautiful?"