A Story Without The Villains Is Boring

Chapter 43: Head of House Bourghess

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One Day Later

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The air in the office was filled with the sweet aroma of chamomile tea and the enchanting scent of lilac.

The vintage and cozy surroundings provided a sense of comfort, although the person sitting across from me had an intimidating demeanor.

Earlier, I had been enjoying the comfort of my bed when a servant barged into my room without knocking, carrying a basin of cold water and a towel.

I was surprised, but even more so when I realized the towel was made of fur.

"How luxurious," I thought to myself.

Contrary to my expectations, the servant wasn't grumpy at all. Although she didn't speak, she helped me wash my face and gently wiped it with the towel.

For a moment, I had a suspicion that she was deaf, but I didn't mind. I rather enjoyed the company of silent individuals.

Once we were finished and tidied up, she brought me a lovely outfit and a pair of shoes.

"Oh, those high heels are fancy," I remarked, but she corrected me.

"They are called chopines, young miss."

Chopines? I couldn't relate to this world at all, but it didn't matter. The heels weren't too high, and the dress I wore was comfortable for a ten-year-old like me, so I had no complaints.

The servant had an envelope with her, and before she opened it for me, I raised my hand and pointed at a small, floating blob beside me.

She seemed confused and didn't say a word, so I assumed she couldn't see it. That was to be expected since Ray couldn't see the small blob either.

The servant read the letter, which happened to be from the head of the house-Ray's father and my future father-in-law, or so I hoped.

The letter turned out to be the same one that Sherly wanted to tear up, leading to her troublesome predicament.

As I read the content, I found it quite dull. I noticed the exquisite quill pen the writer used, as every stroke felt smooth, but the contents merely invited me to have a discussion about his troublesome son.

"Is it today?" I asked the servant.

She nodded in response.

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In my previous world, meeting new people made me feel embarrassed. I was a shy and introverted person.

But why couldn't I feel that rapid thumping of my heart, that nervousness now?

My gaze was fixed on the head of the house, yet I felt nothing.

My hands weren't cold, and I wasn't trembling or shaking due to nerves.

Was it because I realized they were all fake, like dolls or characters from a novel come to life?

I wondered if I were to spill hot tea on his face or stab him in the head with a knife from the table, would I be able to return to my real world?

But that would likely make me a murderer in this world-a risk I wasn't willing to take.

"What's the matter, father-"

"Aren't you too advanced?" he interrupted, maintaining a serious expression.

"My apologies, Head of House Bourghess."

"Just kidding. I'm joking, hahaha." he replied with a hysterical laugh. "I never thought a child's face could furrow."

I joined in his laughter.

"No problem. You'll see it more often."

"Have some tea. It will relax the furrowed expression on your face," he added.

"I would gladly do so, Lord of Bourghess."

"Call me father, like you did before."

The crimson tint in my eyes gleamed, and I furrowed my brows, glaring at him.

"As if the engagement will last longer, Duke."

"It will. It was my son who asked for this."

"Really?"

"He begged so hard, pleading for you to be his bride."

My right eyebrow arched, and my eyes filled with disgust.

"That's utterly cringeworthy. Are you sure he said that, or is it just your fabricated story?"

"How can I put it..." He shrugged his shoulders as if pretending to be uncertain. "He was kneeling and mumbling, 'Dad, please make her mine.'"

It was obviously fabricated. He was indeed a talented storyteller. Perhaps in the future, he would make a fine novelist.

As I listened to his words, the more I felt the urge to stab his mouth.

It was an unpleasant feeling, maybe exacerbated by the messy backdrop of his office, with scattered papers and documents. It reminded me of my own apartment.

"What was the purpose of this tea talk with the Duke?" I asked in a low tone, unable to suppress a tired sigh.

"Isn't it quite unusual for a child to sigh so heavily?" he responded. "As for the purpose, I don't really have one. I just wanted to have a casual chit-chat with my future daughter-in-law."

Chit-chat... That word exists in this world too? That was a surprise.

"I don't think so. Your expression tells a different story."

A familiar grin appeared at the corner of his lips, reminiscent of the grown-up Ray.

"But I do have a purpose."

"..."

"Just keep my mischievous son in line."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Duke."

"Why not?"

"You have failed to raise your son properly. How can you expect me to be your substitute when I am only a child and his fiancee? Don't you think that's irresponsible of you?"

"Am I?"

"Take a good look at your son's behavior and his abnormal personality. Perhaps he inherited that side from you."

Though it was an insult, he continued to smile.

"Actually, it came from his mother."

And in that moment, my entire world crumbled.