IGMDSML 16

Chapter 16

“Please, you may come in.”

“Thank you, Pour. I will not forget this kindness.”

“I sincerely hope the misunderstanding is cleared.”

As requested earlier, Pour created a small window for Maricel to meet Morgan briefly.

If the misunderstanding wasn’t cleared today, it could easily snowball, one misconception leading to another.

So Maricel was determined to resolve it today.

She was desperate to prevent being dismissed.

Sigh… I’m so nervous.

“Your Highness, I will step in for a moment.”

Maricel cautiously stepped into the reception room, announcing her presence.

Because of the major mistake earlier in the day, all her movements felt unnecessarily careful.

Yet, once inside, she only saw wine and snacks on the table; Morgan wasn’t immediately visible.

Should she sit or stand?

Why would a guilty person sit? I should stand.

At that moment, the bedroom door on the far side of the reception room opened.

He appeared in a nightgown, as if he had just finished washing.

Even at a glance, his body was well-built.

Shouldn’t he at least fasten the gown properly?

As he walked, the muscles of his thighs showed through the fabric like those of a prize stallion. Her gaze drifted naturally despite herself.

God, why today? I came to make amends, and now this feels unfair…

Maricel shut her eyes tightly and quickly turned her head.

Morgan noticed and tightened the belt of his gown, letting out a small smirk.

“Did you see everything?”

“Eh? Ah, no… I didn’t mean to look, it’s just… it was… unavoidable…”

What am I even saying?

Instead of clearing the misunderstanding, it felt like she might have added an accusation of misconduct.

Why am I like this? I should just keep quiet.

Maricel felt like crying as the situation became more twisted.

“You’re not denying that you looked.”

He approached the table and sat down.

“Sit. Would you like a drink?”

“Eh? Ah, yes…”

Maricel was dazed by Morgan’s unexpected reaction.

Could it be… the misunderstanding is already cleared?

No, that’s impossible. His expression earlier had been full of contempt and disgust.

It seemed improbable. Yet judging by the current atmosphere, it didn’t seem entirely bad either. What is happening?

Sigh… I don’t understand. This is difficult.

How could I possibly know my employer’s thoughts?

All she could do was try to carefully appease him to survive.

Though flustered, Maricel closely watched his expression.

Yet Morgan, seemingly unbothered, elegantly refilled her wine glass.

Every movement was noble and graceful, befitting a noble.

His hand seemed large even compared to the wine bottle. Surprisingly, his fingers were smooth and scar-free, contrary to what she expected from someone who wields a sword.

Hmm… maybe he really is a swordsman.

Small scars appeared on his forearms, and she imagined the pain those cuts must have caused.

If there are so many small scars on his forearms, I wonder if there are larger ones on his torso or thighs.

Maricel’s eyes drifted back to his lower body, but she gave up and returned her gaze to his forearms.

Prominent, wild veins gave a sense of vitality.

It was instinctive from her nursing background to notice such details.

Then a voice spoke:

“Where do those disrespectful eyes wander?”

“Ah! Eh? No… I wasn’t looking!”

Maricel was startled.

Oh no… today is a disaster.

Morgan realized that Maricel’s eyes unconsciously followed his movements.

At first, he thought she was merely tracking his hands, but eventually, her gaze traveled from his upper body down to his lower body and back to his forearms, with a brief, mischievous smile.

She’s not looking at my face, but at my forearms?

Morgan was dumbfounded. Normally, a woman with romantic intentions would be distracted by the face, yet she seemed fixated on his arms.

Earlier in the day, it had been the same—her focus was oddly off-target.

“First your fingers, then your forearms, chest, thighs, and back to forearms.”

Morgan counted each place her gaze lingered.

Maricel froze like someone caught stealing.

This is really bad. I’ve been caught red-handed.

She took a deep breath and tried to explain:

“I–I hope you weren’t displeased. I only noticed that your hands were strong yet elegant while refilling the glass. Naturally, my gaze moved to your forearms, and seeing the small scars, I thought they must have hurt… since you are skilled with a sword, I imagined there could be larger scars elsewhere. There was absolutely no disrespect intended.”

She had thought briefly: If I say it was because I thought it looked pretty or painful, would he dislike it?

So she left out the part about the prominent veins and spoke plainly.

Morgan reacted subtly to her words about beauty and pain—his pupils flickered slightly, and he tensed momentarily.

“Then why the mischievous smile at your forearms?”

“Eh? I… I smile mischievously at my forearms?”

Maricel put her hand to her chest and anxiously looked at his face.

I smiled mischievously at that prominent vein…

She couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at how absurd it was.

I was just captivated by the vein, that’s all.

She decided to push forward:

“Perhaps my expression when thinking ‘that must have hurt’ came out strangely.”

Sigh… how humbling.

Maricel wanted to bury her face in the ground. But if he knew she truly smiled mischievously, she would be dismissed—better to appear humble.

“Believe it if you will.”

Morgan snorted and tilted his glass.

“You hear me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Maricel instantly emptied her glass, her throat burning.

Does she think this is water?

Morgan refilled her glass and asked:

“Why did you want to see me?”

Here it comes.

Maricel swallowed hard.

“…I came to apologize for my behavior earlier. I had no idea it meant what it did… I was truly just glad to see you…”

Morgan’s hand paused mid-motion with her glass.

…Glad to see me?

Yes, earlier in the day, it had been because she was glad.

Glad…

A strange yet nostalgic feeling filled the air—foreign yet faintly familiar.

Lately, he often felt such incongruities, always when he was with Maricel.

He closed his eyes to suppress this strange feeling and asked:

“What do you mean by that?”

“Eh?”

She isn’t really asking… it’s to clarify the apology.

“I was told by Pour that my actions earlier were only proper for the mistress of the house. Your Highness, I hope you were not offended. I have no interest in Your Highness romantically. I swear I’ve never seen you as a man. I’ve never considered the position of Grand Duchess. I only care for Young Master Fleur. Please believe me. I have no romantic intentions toward you, absolutely none.”

“Enough!”

He sharply cut her off, his tone a mix of anger and wounded pride.

He looked deeply insulted as if he wanted to sew her mouth shut for saying so.

Was it really necessary to insist so desperately?

He spat out:

“Am I really so unappealing as a man?”

He seemed angry but strangely sad at the same time.

“You’re not unappealing at all, Your Highness. You possess wealth, honor, power, appearance—everything. You’re the top candidate for every unmarried woman in the empire.”

Sensing he might be irritated, Maricel counted her fingers and hastily clarified:

“Ah! No, I am not included among those women. I am Young Master Fleur’s nanny and your employee. To me, you are an employer, not a man. I strictly separate work and personal matters.”

Maricel carefully chose her words to avoid further angering him.

Did that work…?

Morgan closed his eyes, frowned slightly, and after a short while, his expression softened.

“It seems to have passed… for now.”

“Your Highness…?”

“Speak.”

He looked lost in thought, frowning.

“Have you… cleared the misunderstanding?”

A sharp glare flew at her instead of a reply.

Why again?

Maricel’s heart pounded like walking on thin ice.

“The explanation doesn’t satisfy me, regardless of the misunderstanding.”

“Eh?”

She was utterly nervous.

“…Then how can I satisfy you, Your Highness?”

He shot her another cold glance.

“You must find that out yourself. Do I have to do everything for you?”

Ah… this is total power play.

“Yes… I will try to figure it out.”

Sigh… it’s best to leave quickly. Staying any longer will drain me completely.

Maricel felt as if she had aged years in just a few minutes.

Morgan regretted speaking with sharp words but it was too late.

Why can’t I maintain composure in front of her…

“Don’t worry too much.”

“Eh?”

“Exactly as I said—don’t worry.”

“Oh… so it’s okay then?”

He simply nodded slightly.

“Then, Your Highness… did you eat the cookie from Young Master Fleur?”

“……?”

Maricel’s question was unexpected; Morgan raised one eyebrow.

“Why ask that? Is this interrogation?”

“No, not at all. I was just curious if it suited your taste.”

“Did Fleur ask you to ask me?”

Morgan’s sharp reaction startled her.

Not today… the picnic topic can wait. I should retreat for now.

“I did not intend to trouble you. I will take my leave then.”

Unexpectedly, Morgan responded in a flash:

“I kept it in the drawer, as it was the first gift from the child.”

He’s telling me not to leave?

Maricel paused and sat down again.

“Oh… I see…”

She smiled gently, taking the opportunity to speak:

“Fleur would be so happy to know. He mentioned he wanted to receive gifts too. When I asked who he would like it from, he said his uncle. Haha.”

Not missing the moment, Maricel quickly added:

“If Your Highness also wishes, perhaps you could give a gift to Young Master Fleur… What do you think?”

Morgan let out a bitter smile.

“So this was your real purpose, not just clearing the misunderstanding.”