Lady Felice’s Secret Class - Chapter 47

Claude leaned against the railing, looking down at Felice frozen on the stairs. His back pressed to the banister, he felt the effects of the alcohol he’d indulged in—his vision was slightly blurred.

For a moment, he wondered if he was seeing things. Had he thought too much? He let out a small, lonely laugh and closed his eyes briefly.

Even so… seeing things that weren’t there?

“Claude… are you all right?”

Felice was startled by Claude’s appearance and rushed down the stairs to check on him. As she approached, his eyelids fluttered slowly. It felt as though tiny bubbles of soap were floating in the air.

Claude pressed his brows together, then focused his gaze forward.

“Should I call the butler? To… support you?”

In worry, Felice tilted her head as she mentioned the butler. In response, Claude suddenly reached out.

“Ah…”

His fingertip brushed Felice’s cheek. Warmth radiated from him, and his blinking confirmed she was real.

“Claude?”

But Felice misinterpreted his hand as a gesture asking for help and quickly grabbed it.

“I’ll fetch the butler! Please wait here just a moment!”

She looked flustered, as though he might collapse, and moved to summon the butler immediately.

“…What are you holding in your hand, anyway?”

Claude’s question made Felice flinch. His gaze had shifted to the small object she was holding.

“Huh?”

“That in your hand.”

“Oh… this? It’s just… trash.”

“Trash?”

Claude furrowed his brows in confusion. Felice quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway, I should get the butler first. You… stay here—”

Before she could finish, Claude yanked her hand. Startled, Felice let out a short gasp, but when he rested his head quietly on her shoulder, she pressed her lips together in surprise.

“Just for a moment.”

“Ah… okay.”

Without resistance, Felice allowed him to lean on her. Her innocent gesture made Claude’s lips curl into a small smile.

Yet thoughts of Madame Rose earlier in the day creased his expression again. Men had been chasing her…

If any of those men, other than Claude, had approached Felice like this, would she have let them? Probably not, judging by her first visit to his house. And yet, the mere possibility annoyed him.

A romance tutor, yet so defenseless…

“Claude, how long will this ‘just a moment’ last? If the butler helps you upstairs, you can rest comfortably…”

The butler, that devil.

Claude pursed his lips. Felice remained still, as he got irritated at the thought of some unknown men wandering through her mind.

“I’ve walked all this way—couldn’t manage one flight of stairs?”

“…Huh?”

“Just for a moment.”

Claude closed his eyes gently, realizing how comfortable and warm it felt to simply lean against her. No embrace—just leaning. For the first time in two days, his cluttered thoughts cleared completely.

“…I don’t want to think about anything right now.”

Claude murmured softly. Tense, Felice let him rest on her, and her gaze softened in response.

She often felt the same way—when thoughts of her father came, she would shake her head, telling herself not to dwell on them.

“…Then don’t think about anything.”

Gently, Felice lifted her hand to pat his back. Claude let out a small laugh, as if surprised by the comfort.

“Are you comforting me?”

“…Yes.”

“I think this is the first time someone patted my back like this.”

“This is your first time receiving comfort like this?”

“Is this your first time doing charity?”

Claude chuckled, and Felice’s hand stilled.

“That bouquet… I was going to give it to my grandfather. But someone on the street begged me so earnestly… I complied, and he called it charity , of all things.”

“…Your grandfather? You even give your grandfather bouquets?”

Claude slowly lifted his head from Felice’s shoulder.

The topic suddenly shifted to her grandfather and Felice’s thoughts flashed to his keepsakes.