𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖉

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CHAPTER II :
THREE'S A CROWD

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           "YOU'RE SAYING," the Count says, a smile threatening to take over his face, but he kept his composure, willing himself to look like a proper Count in front of his employee, "that this morning, you've found out that Anastasia went out of Cale's room?"

Ron, still smiling, nodded. This was the fifth time he has repeated the question, the fifth time he responded and the final time he'll entertain the Count ever again.

"That is what I've said."

"That is good news! Isn't it?" The Count exclaimed. "It means that they're now getting along— even moreso than ever."

As the Count smiled, Ron couldn't help but feel as if there was something wrong with it— something more sinister, scheming. But he didn't bother to find out what it was. It was only bothersome, and besides, he was sure Anastasia could handle it. He wasn't going to be affected in any way, so why should he pay attention to it?

And he had other matters to attend to today, he had to go out and head to the market later.

Because, it seems as if the lemons in the kitchen were all gone. Even his son, Beacrox, did not know what happened, all he told him was that it was all gone when he looked for it.

But he had an inkling on who it was.

"That's all I need to report." He says, hoping to head out now.

"Wait." The Count called out. "Before you go, give this to Cale." In his hands was an official piece of paper, rectangular in size. It must've been another cheque.

Ron carefully took the cheque in his hands and did not glance at it. It was not his business, and it was rather rude to look at it. "I will."

"Oh, and, in regards to Cale's request for a new personal maid for Anastasia," he says, clasping his hands together, wearing a smile that says a lot yet nothing at all, "I'm sure you can hire someone quit competent for the County, hm?"

"Of course."

The Count did not respond thereafter and instead seemed to happily write something down on a piece of parchment. It was good that he was in a good mood. It was getting . . . annoying dealing with him when he was in a sour mood.

Taking it as his sign to leave, he exited the room, not making any sound as he does so. The hallway of the mansion was quiet, except for the occasional servants passing by. They all greeted him with a smile, and in turn, he returned the same, empty words.

As he made his way down the stairs, he saw Anastasia, who seemed to be in deep thought while walking down the hallway. It was unusual to see her out of her room, often preferring the presence of solitude rather than walking outside.

How interesting.

So, curiously, he carefully, he hid his presence and stalked towards her.

He smiled. Perfect. "Lady Anastasia."

Anastasia glanced at him, not flinching or startled despite the fact that he quietly sneaked up on her. It seemed as if she expected him, her imminent displeasure at his presence was hidden. He could still feel it though, the way she clenched her dress was enough of an indication.

She smiled, not bothering to make it seem real. It looked practiced and empty.

"Ron." She replied monotonously, looking rather gloomy.

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