Chapter 96 Ears Turned Crimson
"What's 'cool' about me?"
Ilse swallowed hard. Ugh. That wasn't a normal question. Claus was staring at her, sharp, like he was scanning every single thought Ilse was desperately trying to bury behind her calm mask.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She forced a smile, trying to act like some lovesick noble girl, not an agent running a life-or-death operation in the middle of a corporate crisis.
"The way you make decisions," she said quickly, her voice a bit raspy.
She had to think fast and give him an answer that fed a general's ego but kept him off balance.
"On the battlefield, in the palace, you never hesitate. You're firm. That's hard to find among noble men who only know how to throw money around and chase a good time."
Claus stayed silent. He stared at her for a long time, long enough that Ilse felt like she was choking on the air. Then, the corner of his mouth quirked up. Not a friendly smile, but a tight, knowing one. It made Ilse feel like she'd just been caught.
Ilse pushed her luck, lowering her voice, making it more personal.
"It's not just that. The way you look at people... It's strange. Like you're scanning them. And your voice. When you give orders, it's low, dominant, and masculine. It makes people just want to obey. Charismatic, maybe that's the word."
She paused, letting her eyes drop to his lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto his gaze. "Honestly, Duke. Being in the same room as you is... exhausting. Your aura is just too strong. You're not exactly the kind of guy who can be ignored."
Claus went silent. He looked away, fiddling with his collar with a stiff, awkward movement. His ears were turning red. Damn, this ice-cold guy was actually blushing. He cleared his throat, trying to mask his nerves by shifting in his seat.
"You talk too much," Claus mumbled. His voice wasn't as flat as it had been. There was a tremor in it, maybe just awkwardness. He wasn't used to being complimented like this, especially not by a girl he used to treat like a nuisance.
Ilse held her breath. She got him. He was flustered.
"That's enough for today, isn't it?" Ilse stood up quickly.
She couldn't let him keep asking questions.
She had to move his focus. She reached for the deck of cards on the side table.
"Praising you is exhausting. How about we play Whist? A game for serious people. I'm sure you've got this memorized by heart."
Claus raised an eyebrow. He didn't look annoyed; he looked intrigued. "Whist? A strategy game. You want to bet?"
"Of course. A small wager," Ilse pulled her chair out, sitting right across from him. "If I win, you promise not to interrogate me about anyone in this house for the next hour. If I lose, you can ask me anything you want."
Claus laughed. It was a heavy, masculine sound that made the hair on the back of Ilse's neck stand up. "Alright, Lady Ilse. That's an interesting bet. Let's see how smart you really are with those cards."
Ilse started dealing. Her hands moved fast, but her heart was a mess. Whist. This was pure strategy. And she was playing against a legendary military commander. If she lost, she couldn't even imagine what Claus might ask her. She had zero room for error. She couldn't afford to be sloppy.
"Start," Ilse said, staring him down, trying to hide the fact that her hands were already starting to sweat.