Capítulo 14: Interaction

Mireille

I can hear some faint murmuring from my opposite desk. My view isn't clear to see the source of those murmurs since a wooden showcase full of books obstructs my line-of-sight. From my instincts, I'm guessing it's 5'4 midget and the said "special guest".

"What about Fiore?" an oddly familiar demanding voice asks. I don't want to admit it- but the authority in the voice is just like Duke Allen. Though he may not be here, since Ron said the Duke uses the Pedantic library. I can only conclude that an aristocratic member is present here.

"I don't think so" I hear an uncertain voice and conclude this is 5'4 midget "we can't be confident at handling a new and foreign varie-"

Silence. I can't hear anything else from behind the bookcase. Their current conversation attracted my curiosity and now, I want to hear the end of it. Maybe I should go and disturb the silence? I hesitate, but I don't know how I should react in front of the "special guest", who must be a noble.

"What are you snooping around for!?" an angry yell from back crashes my thoughts and I know the voice belongs to 5'4 midget. I turn about to face a fuming 5'4 young man.

"Um.... Hey!" I greet the fuming midget, reluctantly waving my hand, not knowing what to do.

"I asked what are you doing?" he repeats his question, not giving me any time to think of an excuse.

"Your yell accomplished what your height couldn't. It reached my ears" I retort, unintentionally mocking him.

"You!" 5'4 midget responds with another yell, curling his fingers in order to calm himself "Why are you here?" he spit, trying hard at his mannerism due to the presence of his "special guest".

I don't really know why he bubbles with anger everytime he sees me. I only call him 5'4 midget and that's reality. Just a look at him and I know he's trying hard to look calm to his guest. That's how a foxy grin graces my lips. Since he is determined to stay calm, I'm determined to run over his patience.

"I'm here to claim my wager" I teasingly say as I extend my hand to hold his "apology letter", which I'm sure he didn't write.

He isn't saying anything. But his face does. His brows arch simultaneously while he makes a questioning face. A face that read- "Are you crazy?".

'You haven't seen how crazy I can be' that's what I'm willing to inform him but I won't. Instead I'll say "You must have forgotten about it" I sigh, internally thinking of my next sentence "You can submit your proof later, right now......" I go on rambling and before I complete my sentence, I raise one of my hands to my ear, making a gesture to hear his low words "I'll be satisfied with just your acknowledgment that I won the challenge of last time".

'In short, I can delay your apology letter or proof in correspondence to having you accept your defeat'. That wasn't actually a win-lose though, at that time, we were interrupted by Duenna Thomas. And I took the initiative to declare that I won. I know that's wrong, but I won't care.

I want a painting of the present 5'4 midget. The way he's red from anger and his endurance at controlling it. His endurance level must be longer than his height. I can't help grinning with triumph at this moment.

"What makes you think you won?" his resolute question startles me, masking his anger with a sheet of strong-mindedness.

"I answered your every question" I retort with a matter-of-fact tone, accompanied by an eye-roll.

"They were warm-"

I cut off his sentence before he completes it "Now, don't tell me they were just warm-ups!" I try to sound as annoyed as I am.

"Why don't you question me?" he asks. For the first time since meeting him, I can say he has a temper other than anger.

"That's a brilliant idea!" I blurt out with excitement.

He scoffs, his earlier anger turned into a cocky grin. I remember, Ron rambled on about 5'4 midget being a "lettered erudite" and that he has no competitor in the whole estate, if not the whole of Empire. I can see why he is brimming with confidence, anyone would be.

Little does he know how big of a blunder it is to underestimate me!

"Mi aiuti per favore?" I casually question him, knowing full well that he doesn't understand Italian.

French is our native language. English is auxiliary but is really helpful. Dutch or German is only for Nobles and no commoner is taught Dutch or German. Even among Nobles, Dutch and German is rarely used and is seen as a special skill. Given his aptitude, 5'4 midget must be fluent in all of them. However, he must know 'I'm a bumpkin who came from forlorn outskirts' and precisely the reason why I know this foreign language called Italian.

"What?" he asks, his whole face is a question mark "Did you muddle up Dutch or German?" he replies, negating the fact that he can't answer me.

"Of course not. This is a new language which you don't know!" I retort with absolute glee, making the latter snivel.

"Is that Italian?" he questions which comes as a surprise to me. He knows about the language? I can't help but question myself.

"I read it in one of the books" came his reply, after he sensed my queer face. Frankly, if I was in his place, I wouldn't know about some foreign language like Italian. I'm not even fluent in Dutch, if not German. But being intellectual doesn't mean he won my favor.

"All it matters is that an EPE graduate doesn't have enough knowledge as much as a forlorn bumpkin has" I remark, hell-bent on winning the argument.

"Hmph!" he snorts before walking away from me. I lonely look at his fading silhouette. I thought he would quibble some more but looks like he's reached his limits.

"Why would you ask him to help you, when you just chased him away?" a coy hiss near my ear makes me bounce away with alarm.

I stare at the alluring amber eyes, freezing me at my spot as I stare even deeply into those golden eyes, overlying a forbidding warning. A sly grin is plastered on his white face while raven-black hair overshadowed his well sculpted face. He's dressed in jade breeches and the like, with a rich overcoat boosting his cocky personality. A glance at him and I'm angry, but I must control. He has a lot more authority than me and only authority works in this world.

"What are you doing here?" he asks with a domineering tone, as if I need his permission to even breathe.

"Um.... I just came to read" I stutter while I try to figure out why he is here? Doesn't he go to the Didactic library?

"I'm surprised eavesdropping is penned in any books" he retorts with taunting words.

I grunt at his words, visibly fed-up with his sarcastic words. Just then I remember his earlier question.

"You understand Italian?" I ask with questioning eyes. He understood what I said to 5'4 midget. 'Mi aiuti per favore!'- it simply translates to 'Please help me!'. I learned it from one of the merchants of South, his home country is called Italy. But that's all I learned, I don't understand any more Italian. I just said it to 5'4 midget because he won't understand it anyway.

"Where do you think Fiore got her name from?"

Lady Fiore? He knows I met her? "You mean her name is Italian?"

In response, I only got a cocky smirk. So that is a yes.

"By any chance, are you fluent in Italian?" I ask, hoping to get a negative answer.

"No..." Duke Allen's denial brings a sense of relief to me, atleast there is one thing he isn't good at.

"Not fluent, but I can mostly understand and communicate in Italian" his remark pierces my relief. Looks like I'll have to find another one of his weakness. Perfection is only for God. I repeat in my mind.

"Where did his Grace learn Italian?" I ask with confusion.

"I met a traders group near my house. They called themselves "Renaissance", a rebirth for their kind. They were trying to ease the trade between different nations and stuff."

That's exactly what I experienced. I met them at one of my outing near the farthest outskirts of Fainèant. I helped the many troubled faces and learned one sentence. That's when a slight realization hits me.

If the Duke said he met them near his house, did he mean he lived in a country-side? Since he is unusually chatty today, why don't I ask him more?

I open my mouth to reply him with a question but, I stop when I see he took the initiative to talk first.

"I'm sad. I thought I'm the one-and-only for your twin sister, Lady Mireille" his cringing remark is accompanied by an upset pout, which doesn't suit a grown man with a built like him.

One and only? I only scoff at his remark. When did I ever consider him as a "one-and-only"? The rumor reached him sooner than I expected. "I didn't know the Knights were such blabber-mouth" I mutter with vain surprise, hoping the Duke won't bother much with the rumor.

"You didn't?" he says, raising his brow.

Eagle-eyed just like the rumors say. He would receive gold in observation, if it was a subject. I spread the word about Mireille as a twin sister of Edgar Radford, so that I can filter out the curious nobles who would flock by to see the mysterious lady. This way, maybe I can find a link to the murder of Count Martin's family. And who knows, I may even find my real family, though that's least expected. Whatever the results are, I will pursue my instincts anyway. In reply to the Duke, I only shrug.

Today, the Duke's attitude is better, more likeable. He doesn't maintain his imperious grin every living second. He seems more occupied with things of his own, seems, he can be serious once in a while. Observing this, My mind trails back to my earlier question: why is the Duke in this library?

"Is he the "special guest" of 5'4 midget?" I blurt out without realizing the Duke is watchful of me. Fearing he heard me, I promptly face him and see an entertained grin gracing his face. 'Oh Hades! My secret byword to call 5'4 midget'

"5'4 midget?" his grin got even wider "no-fooling, Monroe got a funny epithet" he chuckles, raising my anxiety even more.

He's back to being his usual self, with his arrogant smirk and discerning eyes, looking at me with a calculative and amused expression. That's my cue to get out of here, if I don't want to be annoyed that is. I hastily ask permission to leave and get out of the library.

°° °

Days passed into weeks and soon, one month passed since I have been accepted as a knight in the Duke's residence. Getting used to the living here is not much of a hassle. I stick by one main rule for having a tranquil life.

°Never cross paths with the Duke.°

Crossing paths with Duke always brings trouble. I don't believe in superstitions but the Duke Allen is a omen of bad luck for me. Just like how, few days back, I was accused of attempted murder. And the victim was the "one-and-only" Duke Allen.

××××××××××

{Three days back}

"I'm hungry!" I wailed, getting the surprised glances from Joel and Mac.

"You're hungry? We just finished our lunch an-" Joel spoke with shocked eyes.

"It has been 120 minutes! And I didn't eat much, not even desserts!" I groaned before he could finish his sentence, not in the mood to hear a lecture from him.

"Didn't eat much?!" Mac bellowed, grasping the attention of nearby Knights "You ate two plates of fried chicken wings, two bowls of Boeuf Bourguignon stew, one whole mid-sized casserole bread!" Mac huffed some air while listing my meal.

"Not to mention, you were continuously chewing the cookies those maids gave you" Joel partnered up with Mac to lecture me on my meal.

All the while, I was only wondering why Mac kept account of everything I ate?

"I have only been tasting those cooki-" I retorted but my answer was cut off by Mac.

"You don't have to eat the whole packet of cookies to affirm the taste" he rolled his eyes while answering me.

"This much is important for me to grow my muscles!" I was set on defending myself

"Damn! Only if I earned the favor of those servants.." Joel remarked, lamenting his mindlessness "Even I could have gotten extra servings, an endless supply of snacks, and order my favorite dishes from the cook!" Joel glared at me, ready to wipe my existence from this world.

"Being a pretty face has many benefits..." Mac responded with a faint sob.

I just looked on as I got accused of being a glutton and a flirt. I opened my mouth to defend my innocence, when we were distrubed by an intentional cough. We turned behind to look at the culprit and turned out, it was just a meek footmen.

"His excellency summons Sir Edgar Radford..." he made sure to raise his voice enough to reach the nearby idle Knights.

Hell no! I'm not going to meet the Duke, why would he call me out of ordinary? I recollect my lines to act as a sick person, I already clutched my stomach to add the emphasis. By the sideways glance of Joel, I can say he must be already prepared for his part and waiting for a cue. After all, he knows how well I act and I made sure to teach him how he can follow my act, to make it more realistic.

"...to join him for his afternoon-tea" the footmen completed his sentence after inhaling some air.

"Let's go" I say at once. I springed to my feet and walked with my unwavering steps alongside the footmen, leaving behind a puzzled Mac and even perplexed Joel.

"Is food that important to him?" I heard faint voices of Joel.

Yeah. It is. Important enough for me to meet the Duke, whom I despised.

× ××××

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