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Chapter 33
“It seems it’s been a while since you last sent a letter.”
Pour took the letter from Maricel with a gentle voice.
“Yes, that’s right. Butler Pour, I’m such an unfilial daughter. I should have sent news first, but I was too careless.”
“From a nanny’s perspective, you might feel that way. But as part of the grand ducal house, I can only express my gratitude. Thanks to your efforts, the young lord recovered quickly. Soon, a tutor will be appointed, and then you’ll have a bit more free time. You’ll even have a chance to go out for a while.”
Pour spoke with gratitude and a tinge of apology, and Maricel smiled and asked something she had been curious about.
“Has the tutor been decided? Who will be coming?”
Instead of answering immediately, Pour tilted his head and gave a mysterious little smile before replying.
“It would be better for Your Highness to hear it directly. He will probably call for you soon.”
Then Pour smiled lightly and walked away with the letter.
“Huh? What was that?”
At the time, Maricel didn’t understand Pour’s smile, but upon meeting Morgan, she finally realized its meaning.
For some reason, Morgan called her not to his office, but to the first-floor conference room.
“Here. These are the tutor candidates. Take a look and give me your opinion.”
He laid out the documents of the tutor candidates in front of her.
The subjects were four in total: History, Common Language, Grammar, and Writing.
Even at a glance, these were among the most outstanding individuals in the empire.
Especially for History, it was a familiar name—Elias Xavier, a retired academy professor revered by all.
Though he was the second son of the Cutlet Marquis, he became an academy professor thanks to his brilliant mind, and for his contributions, he was awarded the baronial title Xavier.
And such a person is only a candidate for a tutor? Not yet confirmed?
Ah, so that’s why it’s called a grand ducal house.
Wow—no wonder Morgan’s self-esteem is sky-high.
Suddenly, she understood the shock he must have felt when he was rejected.
‘I was proposed to by a man like this.’
She felt a surge of pride in her posture.
If she hadn’t been fighting for survival, she could hardly have found a reason to refuse.
With that level of wealth, power, and looks, even a nonexistent affection might have sprung to life.
Who could say no to that?
First, she chose Elias Xavier for History and then examined the other candidates.
No one had a lackluster record.
The more she looked, the more she realized how fortunate she was—barely surviving, yet holding the nanny position.
‘It’s my fate to survive, huh.’
She scolded herself inwardly for almost speaking aloud and quickly stopped her thoughts.
Anyway, the candidates were all outstanding. Flawless.
So now, the only remaining question was the criteria for selection.
It would be ideal if there were a range of ages and genders.
“Your Highness, in my opinion, Elias Xavier, Baron, for History; Kaden Ryder for Common Language; Riley Rendon for Grammar; and Veronica Zevia, Baroness, for Writing would be suitable.”
“What’s the selection criteria?”
“All of them have impeccable credentials, so I considered gender and age for balance.”
The individuals she chose were:
- History: 57-year-old Baron Elias Xavier
- Common Language: 27-year-old Kaden Ryder, second son of the Ryder count family
- Grammar: 23-year-old Riley Rendon, eldest daughter of the Rendon marquis family
- Writing: 42-year-old Veronica Zevia, Baroness
“Do we really need to maintain such a balance?”
Morgan’s tone was slightly sharp, as if something bothered him.
“Your Highness, I merely gave my opinion because you asked. Any of these candidates would be fine. I trust your judgment. I only added the suggestion for diversity’s sake, as I believe it will benefit the young lord.”
“Hmmm……”
Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, frowning slightly, tapping the armrest.
He took a moment to think deeply.
Eventually, he lifted himself and began reviewing the documents one by one.
His selections matched exactly with hers.
“Let’s go with these.”
Maricel was surprised—her opinion had been fully reflected. She became curious.
“Your Highness, may I ask why you decided this way?”
Without hesitation, he replied:
“Because your opinion aligns with mine. I was only uncertain about one candidate, but since you suggested diversity, I set aside my personal preferences.”
‘Huh? Personal preferences?’
What kind of nonsense is that?
Curious about which subject caused his bias, she asked tentatively:
“For which subject did you have a preference…?”
“……”
He just stared at her, never revealing the answer.
‘Perhaps he didn’t want me to form a preconceived notion?’
Instead, he said what he needed and attempted to leave.
“Classes will start next week.”
She hurriedly stopped him.
“Your Highness!”
He paused and turned back.
“…What is it?”
“Well… about my days off…”
She swallowed nervously and smiled faintly, bringing up the topic of her unused days off.
His reaction, however, seemed somewhat uncomfortable.
She assumed his discomfort was due to Fleur.
“Your Highness, you don’t need to worry about the young lord. It’s actually a time to start letting him adjust gradually to being apart. Being too close may increase anxiety.”
He paused, frowning again.
“Sigh. During your days off, you’ll stay at the marquis residence, right?”
“Oh, probably. I plan to visit my parents for a while. After that, perhaps meet friends.”
It might have been her imagination, but his blue eyes looked troubled.
“When you go to the residence, I’ll assign a guard.”
What? He was frowning because he was worried about me?
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
She expressed gratitude, but his eyes still held a shadow.
“Are you worried I might reveal grand ducal affairs if I go home?”
Carefully, she asked, and his face instantly turned cold.
“Why would you say that all of a sudden?”
“No, Your Highness, your expression looked troubled. I wondered if you were concerned the grand ducal matters might be leaked.”
Then Morgan strode up, closing the distance between them.
He leaned slightly, locking eyes with her, growling softly.
“What do you take me for? You’re already mine. If you don’t trust me, what am I supposed to do?”
Huh!
‘Why, why is he suddenly so fierce…’
Intimidated, she held her breath.
It felt like being a prey animal in front of a predator. Her heart pounded violently.
It reminded her of the fear she first felt in the marketplace when she met him.
He stepped closer, their eyes almost touching.
Yet strangely, his gaze, though intimidating, carried an unexpected depth that confused her.
Her heart continued pounding.
She placed her hand over her chest to calm herself and took a step back.
“Ah… Your Highness, I’m sorry……”
Then, his piercing gaze softened and returned to its normal state.
He roughly brushed his face with his large hand, his expression relaxing.
“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you……”
Regret and self-reproach lingered in his voice.
Maricel couldn’t fully understand Morgan’s reaction, but she was certain he hadn’t intended to frighten her.
Indeed, anyone would be upset if someone didn’t trust them.
Thinking it through, she realized Morgan had every reason to react that way.
“No, Your Highness. I was thoughtless. I would be upset too if I were in your position.”
She felt apologetic.
Then he said unexpectedly:
“It’s not because I don’t trust you, but because it’s dangerous outside the estate……”
‘He was making that fierce face because he was worried about my safety?’
He continued, as if even that excuse wasn’t enough:
“That’s all. I just worried, so don’t misunderstand.”
His ears and neck flushed red.
Then, as if chased, he quickly bolted out.
Maricel stood stunned, staring at the door long after he left.
‘What just happened?’
Was it really so embarrassing to admit he was worried about her?
Seeing someone usually so confident act awkwardly was a fresh, striking shock.
And with his ears flushed, running off like that, it was… somehow cute.
