CH 8

You Committed a Felony (1)

It was a deep, husky voice that made her toes curl. Kyrie’s lips dried up.

‘What do I do? How do I react?’

Looking at Kyrie like that, the man whispered again.

[Hello.]

Kyrie immediately recognized the subtle differences between the two greetings. 

This greeting was lower in pitch than the first greeting.

‘I have to answer.’

It was intuition, you shouldn’t offend him.

Unless it’s before she let’s it in or unless she has already let it in.

“Hello.”

She tried to speak as calmly as she could, but she was a little nervous.

At Kyrie’s greeting, the man folded his eyelids half-fold and smiled as if he were in a good mood.

An awfully beautiful but at the same time it was awfully a cold smile.

[Are you noble?]

“I’m Kyrie from Count Buchanan.”

She replied, gracefully lifting the dress, the man seemed used to being greeted. A light gesture with no sincerity but grace was obviously a noble manner.

[Buchanan ‘The Count’?]

“Yes.”

[As far as I know, Buchanan must have been a duke.]

Kyrie’s eyes widened a little, this man was telling a very old story.

“He was demoted to Count during Vallabriga Owrenbridge’s generation “

[Interesting]

The man tapped the handle of the cane with the tip of his finger. It was a drowsy gesture, but Kyrie was madly concerned about the drowsiness.

However, all Kyrie could do was to pretend to be as calm as possible.

The man would look at Kyrie and tilt his head slightly, the cane, which was standing on the floor, was held horizontally on top of the floor.

[Sit down. I don’t like looking up.]

Kyrie sat on the opposite chair so fast as to not make a sound. The man laughed.

[I was curious because the beast of the forest kept it hidden.]

Kyrie’s face hardened.

‘Are you talking about MaryAnne? Come to think of it, what happened to MaryAnne?’

She immediately suppressed her desire to run out to MaryAnne.

As if observing a cicada larva, it seemed that she shouldn’t give the man who was looking at her, with an excuse to be rebuked. 

Instead, she calmly brought up the subject as if she were talking about the weather.

“I see. Excuse me, but can I get MaryAnne in? If she stays out there, she’ll end up with frostbite.”

The man grinned.

[Conversation manners are lacking.]

“I beg you.”

Kyrie slowly bent her back in her sitting position. 

MaryAnne’s life is more precious than her pride as a nobleman. 

The man tapped his finger as if he couldn’t believe her actions.

[Now that we’re on the first floor, shall we talk?]

“What?”

The man smiled and stared at Kyrie at the reflexive questionnaire. A cold sweat spilled on Kyrie’s back.

“…….What kind of story do you want?”

Quickly, but not too impatient, she said. The man pulled his chin and smiled.

[Who is the king now? Is it still the Orewinbridge dynasty?]

“Currently, King Ginger Orewinbridge…”

[What generation is this from the Vallabriga?]

As if it was a little boring, the man stopped talking to her. She felt that the time had come to show the greatest cleverness in her life.

“From the founder Vallabriga Owrenbridge this is the 18th generation.”

[It’s already boring.]

The man lowered his eyes. The dangerous look was so beautiful that her heart ached a little. 

But for him it was only boredom.

What’s the reason for the room’s temperature to drop and the breath to come out? Kyrie’s hands began to tremble. It was because of fear rather than cold.

T/N: Sometimes I feel this is a horror novel rather than psychological

Psst… we need more staff