I Became the Duke in a Cringey Romance Novel

04.5 - Head Over Heels

I slap myself with both hands, probably too hard because after about a second, my cheeks sting like they've been stampeded on by a chorus of tiny, tap-dancing jellyfish. And to follow through with my analogy, my head spins as if a toxin has ruined my ability to keep my head clear.

The music has continued, much to my confusion. Women and men bustle around me in spinning motions and everything is kaleidoscoping in a mess of color and movement.

This has happened before, back when I was in my own body. Apparently being transplanted into the body of a stone-hearted sexy duke can only do so much to my confidence. My social anxiety is still here, clawing at my insides like a beast trying to consume me. The duke must just be a pretty face with a big ego, because what I've suffered thus far has been far from what I'd read in this damn book.

Bile creeps up to my throat and my world spins on a loose bolt.

My feet trip over one another as I stumble like a drunken idiot over to what looks like the table of hors d'oeurves. I plant my hands on the surface, suck a shallow breath in, and my vision clears. As long as I don't see another face ridiculing me, I'll be fine.

I glance up and the music crashes around me at a cacophonous volume, but my heart slows to a dangerously low rate.

I guess being without anxiety meds does this to a person. I've let myself forget who I really am—a med student with real world problems, not a fictional duke with no experience outside of looking handsome and apparently sleeping with random women.

I breathe in and my skin prickles with the cool breeze from whizzing dancers. The scent of chocolate and pastry wafts from the table of desserts. They don't look like the radioactive salad from before, and they certainly smell heavenly. Maybe these will be safe to eat.

I pluck a truffle from a silver tiered tray and rotate it with my thumb and fingers, rounding it out a little. It feels like fudge. I hope it also tastes like fudge.

Another deep breath in does wonders to calm my heartrate. Perhaps everyone has forgotten about the strange obsession I seem to have with women named Rachel. My jaw ticks at this and I let out a snort.

How ridiculous.

I close my eyes as I pop the chocolate morsel onto my tongue. Somehow, the flavor feels off. But it's still tasty. The chocolate is a bit bitter, but it's offset by what tastes like... almond? Or maybe cherry. Something sweet, almost like a sugar substitute. Do dukedoms have stevia? Maybe they do; but if so, why have I been drinking unsweetened tea all this time? Why haven't I been offered sugar?

The truffle goes down easy, leaving that sweetness behind on my teeth and tongue. When I open my eyes, there's a petite woman standing on the other side of the table, observing me with bright green eyes. She's wearing a gown, so she's surely one of the guests, but her light brown hair is a little disheveled, like she's been out in the wind, or a gentleman twirled her too quickly while dancing.

The intensity with which she stares at me is a bit unnerving, though. I jut out my chin and look away.

That's when I see her.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘰𝘥'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘴, 𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
𝘈𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥.
𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘶𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘺.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦, 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘫𝘶𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴.