# 22
“Miss.”
Under the warmth of the sun's rays, Angelica suddenly regained consciousness after having fallen asleep for a few moments.
She placed her hand on her forehead, which was heavy with pain, and frowned thoughtfully.
But why was she falling asleep in the first place? She was sure that even a little while ago...
“Angelica Ratlay.”
Her thoughts did not last long, as she was interrupted by a masculine voice coming from the opposite direction.
Her vague memories kept surfacing for a while before she pushed them away, looking up at the man sitting in front of her.
In the garden she had planted delphinium bushes to provide relaxation, but there was no trace of them now. And it's all because of him.
Wasn't he just an ordinary human? What made it appear larger than it was before?
She let out a soft "chuh" from her lips and shook her head slightly.
"Good."
“If you're tired, it's okay to come back another time.”
"It's not that. Let's get this over with quickly, shall we?"
Who gave this man nicknames like “The Beast” and “The Devil of the Battlefield”?
Even today, that useless sympathy seemed so annoying.
Of course, there was no escaping the discomfort.
“I have completely eliminated what you indicated.”
"Really? Even stuff like that?"
“All of them, without exception.”
“Exactly as I asked?”
"Yes."
“No wonder you are called the Sword Master.”
He did everything I asked and returned after successfully completing his mission.
Angelica smiled wryly as she examined him from head to toe.
Black formal clothes, a sword that smelled of blood despite the distance, and a face that became more stern and cruel.
He touched her cheeks gently, then asked him:
“What happened this time that you received those wounds?”
“Is that what matters to you now?”
“No, I just find it curious that you got injured too.”
Well, maybe I'm not the best person to comment on that.
She muttered sarcastically before taking a sip of her slightly lukewarm tea.
There was no response from the man. She was used to his silence, as he was not a good person with words.
“It seems the conversation is over, so I can leave.”
But when he got up, Angelica found herself holding him for the first time.
“Mr. Bernstein, have you ever thought about this?”
She needed a clear answer about this annoying and annoying situation.
She pointed her eyes towards the chair, and Hugo Bernstein returned to his seat with an expressionless face.
Then she put her palm on the table and started tapping lightly.
“Do you believe in fate?”
“Why do you ask?”
"Just out of curiosity. Sometimes I think we might be connected by fate...or maybe just silly ideas."
She laughed sarcastically, even though she found her thoughts pathetic.
Maybe he too felt the same.
“I never thought about that before.”
Hugo Bernstein was overly serious.
That aspect of his personality bothered her, and she frowned slightly involuntarily.
But fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately - he continued:
“I don't see any reason to think that at all.”
“…?”
"I don't think we have a destiny. What importance do you have to me? And the same goes for you, doesn't it?"
His words were logical, and without any politeness, which made her feel strangely at ease.
She nodded in agreement, but her features quickly froze when he continued talking without stopping.
“By the way, have your eyes regained their sight?”
“…?”
“If so, I might start thinking about it seriously.”
What would he seriously think? How would this be useful?
She did not want any more annoying interference, so a sarcastic smile appeared on her lips.
By then, her tea had cooled even more. She took another sip, then shrugged nonchalantly.
“Anyway, whether fate exists or not, I am definitely not your fate.”
Despite their long acquaintance, they were like water and oil.
Maybe there was a mutual hatred between them...or maybe just a feeling of contempt.
“So, how could something like fate bring us together? Just thinking about it is so disgusting.”
Angelica really hated everything about Hugo Bernstein.
Starting with his outward appearance – his red eyes that reminded her of blood, and the scars that made her frown.
She hated the smell of blood that constantly emanated from him. Even his massive frame was bothering her.
As for his voice...it was what angered her the most. His deep, sincere voice always got on her nerves.
“But…why?”
I clenched her hand involuntarily.
Then, she felt a thin thread pulling her little finger.
That “thread of destiny,” which only the one with the “eye of the wise” can see.
I slowly followed the path of the thread, until I found its end… linked to Hugo Bernstein.
Destiny, love, marriage... I'm tired of those words.
She turned her face away coldly and continued her speech:
‘Fateful love? Marriage for love? Who still believes that nonsense these days? '
But she felt something strange...
At that moment, a vague idea occurred to her.
‘If I had met you first instead of ■■■■ Then, what would we have been like, Hugo Bernstein? '
She sighed softly, then pushed those thoughts away. The past should remain buried in the past.
Angelica raised the cup of tea to her lips to finish sipping the rest of it.
“…Huh?”
She suddenly frowned as she sipped her tea. It tasted different than before. At first, it wasn't that bad, but now...
"What is this? Why does my tea feel like I'm biting it?"
The bitterness increased strangely even though only a few minutes had passed. She thought she might be imagining it, so she took the sip again, but found no improvement.
A spontaneous expression of indignation appeared on her face, then she raised her head and stared at Hugo Bernstein.
“Do you also feel this strange taste?...”
She couldn't finish her sentence... because she realized something very strange. The man who had been sitting in front of her until a few moments ago...
“Why…why are you hugging me now?!”
She remained paralyzed for a few moments, unable to think.
Her brain had not yet absorbed the shock.
Well, it was true that she had talked to him about “fate” and those mysterious matters, but she had never expected to end up in such a situation!
Then it suddenly stopped, as if something was wrong...
“Wait a minute…”
Why did this moment seem so familiar to her? Wasn't she supposed to be insanely happy in his arms?
‘What… what’s happening to me?… I love Hugo… so much…’
Hey, hey... This isn't a normal feeling... You've never felt like this before!
Then I realized that all this was just a dream. Yes... just a dream.
She was actually applying ointment to Hugo's wounds while he was lying down, and then fell asleep next to him without realizing it.
“Oh my God...”
She felt like screaming, but she closed her mouth and muffled her voice to avoid waking him.
What is this disturbing dream?! She had never imagined anything like this... and even in her dreams, Hugo looked... exasperatingly gorgeous.
I remembered that cut on his cheek... how the dream had exaggerated in making him look elegant and attractive. Even if he smiled, it would probably look like he had dimples… What a strange dream.
But she didn't get enough time to think deeply about the dream...
“Hmm?”
She leaned forward slightly to find something unfamiliar… her lips were wet, as if she had kissed something.
Her eyes widened when she realized where she was.
“No way... I’m in his arms?!”
She must have stirred while she was sleeping and ended up in his arms! Well... maybe she could pretend that this happened as a result of her falling asleep. At least Hugo was still asleep, and he didn't see anything.
But…
“What is this?!”
There was an obvious… red mark on his neck, where there should have been just an old wound.
It's...it's a kiss sign!
Angelica froze for a moment, then raised her hand and began rubbing his neck frantically, trying to remove the trace. But…
“It's no use...it's getting worse!”
This was not something that could be easily eliminated. The mark was very clear, and it didn't look like it would go away anytime soon.
She felt as if the world collapsed around her, and she covered her face in her hands out of embarrassment.
“Oh my God...what will he say when he sees this?!”
If Hugo wakes up and sees the mark, it'll all be over! It would be obvious that she did it, and there was no escape.
I imagined what would happen... How would he understand it? Maybe he will think that she is a rude girl who leaves marks before marriage.
She realized that she might lose everything if Hugo found out what happened. Maybe even the marriage might be annulled.
"It's so unfair! I don't even remember how it happened!"
She felt doubly bitter. If only she had at least remembered what she felt when she did that… but nothing, no clear memory!
Sadness appeared in her eyes as she thought:
“Will he think it's just a trace of... a mosquito bite?”
No, no… he definitely wouldn't believe something so ridiculous. In this cold weather, it's impossible to have mosquitoes!
She felt extremely frustrated and closed her eyes in despair, trying to think of a way out of this predicament.
Then, unconsciously, a new idea appeared in her mind…
“If it's already exposed… can I… do it again?”
This idea was bold, unexpected. This was probably the last thing she should be thinking about right now… but she was so tempted.
“It's okay... They say that ghosts that eat don't care what happens after them!”
She swallowed dryly and found herself leaning closer to Hugo's neck, holding on to her growing desire.
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