Chapter 56 – An Immoral Desire (1)
Vianut was looking at her quietly with his arms crossed as if he were defending himself. He seemed to be trying to read her expressions to find out whether she was in a good mood or not.
His blue eyes that stared at her were filled with something that was foreign to Gris.
No, maybe there was nothing there, it may have been just empty of emotions.
Gris recalls having seen eyes like his before, it was akin to a wolf dog’s irises. She had planned to raise a white rabbit in their gardens before when she saw one, but it moved so fast that she wasn’t able to touch it. The desire to touch the rabbit grew to a desire to catch it, and with each day that passed Gris chased it every time.
But one day, her wolf dog, which watched her chasing the rabbit silently, suddenly pounced to catch the rabbit. As it dug its fangs on the rabbit’s neck, the latter’s gorgeous fur came flying in the wind.
She didn’t know whether the wolf dog was jealous of the rabbit getting its owner’s attention, or just wanted to give her what she wanted. However Gris recalls that her wolf dog came to her with its lips slightly bloodied, it sat in front of her after its hunt as if waiting for its owner’s compliments. She remembers its shiny blue eyes were especially impressive.
She realized back then that the dog wanted to be loved by her and killed the rabbit for her to show it affection.
Gris’ heart became as heavy as it was then. But it might not be because of the arrogant gaze of the Duke Vianut. Her eyes wobbled with grief by looking at the butterfly in her hands.
“I like butterflies when they are still alive.” Gris told Vianut meaningfully as she tightened her grip on the frame.
The Grand Duke nodded as if he knew it would be her preferences, but his face was devoid with emotions that made him unreadable to Gris. To ease her heart Gris calls to mind the image of her wolf dog and how it tried to gain her favor, maybe Vianut gave her the framed butterfly as a sign of goodwill. Maybe with his simple gesture he was asking her if she could look at the frame without having to go out to the garden if she missed butterflies from now on.
Vianut casted his eyes on the floor when he saw Gris’ expression on her face. For some time, the two remained silent until Vianut’s gaze landed on Gris’ face again.
“I like this better.” He spoke languidly and gave her a smile that showed his dimples. He longed for a smile from her, but Gris was a woman who was struggling to hold back her tears.
Gris finally dropped her head down and covered her eyes with her hands out of frustration, and then became very confused of what was happening. The blue eyes staring patiently at her tearful face were so full of liveliness as if Vianut was so pleased with what he did..
She wondered how long she was going to stay in the library with Vianut, when it seemed to her that he had finished his business with her anyway. Right now, all she could do was wait to be told to leave. Just as she thought Vianut was going to send her away he slowly approached her and used his index finger to slowly sweep it across her jawline as if to confirm something with his touch.
Perhaps Vianut was doing that gesture without any meaning to it. He might have noticed that she was shivering in his presence and found her reaction funny, so right now he was teasing her, because that was what he was to her – he was a bully.
She didn’t want to react to his touch and give him the satisfaction of seeing her more distressed, but it was hard to remain calm under his scrutinizing gaze. The flat chest of this man constantly caught her eyes as her downcasted gaze could only stare at it, and the scent of rosemary subtly coming from his body couldn’t escape her notice.
It seemed that he was sending her a message that she cannot let her guard down because he was the man who could do anything to her – he was her toy.
She was so nervous as she did not know what was the game he was playing this time, and because of fear she found herself unable to breathe well.
He smiled slightly at her as if he had read her mind.
“You are quite tense now.” He whispered and Gris felt choked by his words.
“I heard you are a wh*re.” He told her viciously and Gris bit the insides of her mouth to keep herself from responding to his words.
It was strange to Vianut for a woman who had been selling laughter and her body for a living would blush at the simple act of his index finger brushing against her face.
Gris thought that she had to make an excuse for him to let her go, but right now she couldn’t control her trembling voice so she dare not speak. Gris knew that with her silence she just confirmed it to him.
“Yes, I am. A whore.” Gris finally admitted as she stared at him defiantly.
At her admission, Vianut let out a chuckle. Before Gris could think of what his laughter had meant, Vianut’s words like a bolt from out of the blue shook her and he spoke in a low voice, “Prove it.”
It was safe to say that this was the strangest thing that ever happened to her this year. It was already unthinkable to her that she was able to get the attention of the duke, who was always in the midst of work, and now she finds herself in a bizarre situation wherein she was asked to prove that she was a prostitute.
Gris, who could not believe what she just heard, started to move away nervously. As she began to take a step back she saw his handsome face shown more clearly under the moonlight like a masterpiece of sculpture.
She could see his interest at her response as if he was enjoying seeing her contemplating whether she should try hard to prove hersellf to him, or if she should try to run away. Gris supposed he would find either to be interesting.
She thought maybe this was a nightmare of hers since there was no reason for him to show such a fervent sadism to a woman who meant nothing to him.
However, she felt a tingling pain on her lower lip that she bit to check if she was dreaming. It was obvious, this was reality. She wanted to know why he was being so harsh on her.
“Why should I?”
Gris managed to squeeze out the question and Vianut answered her without a hesitation, “Because you get on my nerves.”
She already knew he wasn’t a sweet person. However, she expected him to at least be a logical one, a person with enough reasons to give her an acceptable answer.