Chapter 18
“Sort out my things. Throw away all the clothes. They’re ruined from the smell of smoke.”
Already fresh from his bath, the young master issued the order in his usual tone, clad in loungewear with damp hair.
For some reason, I hid my irritation, pouted like a duck, and began quietly packing up his things.
Just as he said, I separated the clothes to be thrown out and returned the rest of his belongings to their places. But when the travel bag was almost empty, there was something at the very bottom I didn’t recognize, so I left it for the young master to confirm.
“Oh, that. Take it with you.”
“What is it?”
It was a palm-sized box, wrapped in fine paper. There was no ribbon or anything, but it looked like a gift.
“Chocolate.”
My heart, which had been sinking, suddenly fluttered with excitement. As expected of my young master, pretending not to care, but he’d actually brought me a present for my coming-of-age? Unable to help myself, the corners of my mouth began to curl up.
“Young Master, really, what’s with this—”
“Someone gave it to me.”
But just as quickly, my heart crashed back to earth at his cold, matter-of-fact reply.
Of course. He never eats food given by others, so he was just passing off something unwanted to me.
Disappointment made my lips jut out again.
And the next moment, my pout didn’t stop there. I started making a pointless fuss.
Looking back, I don’t even know what I was thinking. It was just an unreasonable tantrum.
“Did you know? Today is my coming-of-age, Young Master.”
Claude, sitting on one end of the sofa and watching me, replied in a leisurely tone.
“I know.”
I grew even more annoyed. Face flushed red, I grumbled, and the young master asked in a mocking voice,
“You couldn’t even look me in the eye earlier, yet now you’re acting like you’re expecting something. Was there something you wanted from me?”
It was definitely teasing, but his tone wasn’t as harsh as usual.
My scrambled mind seemed to find hope in that, and from that point, the conversation started going in a strange direction.
“If I say it, will you give it to me?”
I was always a bit bold, but today I was more forward than usual. Claude let out a soft laugh.
“Say it. Let’s hear it.”
“What I want is, that is… um…”
“What on earth could Ayla Bell, of all people, want so much she has to work up the nerve to say it, glaring at me, even?”
“I wasn’t glaring.”
“So, what is it? Perfumed oil?”
There are generally three kinds of gifts men and women receive for their coming-of-age.
Perfumed oil, to signify the blessing of the gods.
“The butler already gave me the oil.”
“Then, a flower?”
A red rose, wishing for a beautiful future.
“I got a rose from Tommy.”
“Tommy?”
Claude got sidetracked, derailing the flow of the conversation for a moment.
“You know. The one who cried the day I ‘volunteered’ to be your playmate.”
“Oh, the bed-wetter.”
Despite the snide remark, I stayed strong.
“I already got the oil and the flower. What else could you possibly give me?”
“There’s one left.”
“You need a quill?”
A quill, symbolizing wisdom to overcome life’s hardships and challenges, is also a meaningful gift.
But what I wanted wasn’t a pen, but the last gift you only receive from someone truly special.
“Not that. There’s one more…”
My voice was a mess, trembling badly. Not even when dealing with the wild young master in my childhood had I ever been so nervous.
After hesitating for a long time, I finally gathered all the courage I could and confessed what I wanted.
“A kiss…”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or nerves, but my hands were shaking uncontrollably. I must have looked pitiful all over.
That’s when I realized.
Asking the man you like to kiss you first is incredibly difficult.
Especially if the man in question is the type to cut someone’s head off if he feels like it.
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