Chapter 171: Dance Beneath the Moon
That young master had a cold disposition. He did not like to talk, he did not like to smile, and he always wore that sa indifferent expression no matter who he was facing.
He was not like Aaron from the first story, the sort to fall in love at first sight and desperately chase after soone.
He was like a block of wood.
A block of wood that could never be ward.
But his face was far too handso.
So there were always noble ladies circling around him. One day one of them would bring him pastries, the next another would invite him to a ball, and the day after that yet another would just so happen to “run into” him.
He was endlessly annoyed by all those young ladies, but he never took the initiative to say anything. He would only frown and walk away.
The maid saw all of it, and her heart burned with anxiety.
She loved him. She had loved him since childhood.
But she did not dare say it.
She was only a maid, only a servant, soone unworthy of him.
But those young ladies were different. They had status, rank, beautiful dresses, and expensive jewelry.
They could stand openly at his side.
They could speak to him.
They could dance with him.
Every night, the maid would hide beneath her blankets and cry.
But one day, she suddenly stopped crying.
She made a decision.
She went to beg her good friend, a girl who worked in a tailor’s shop, to make her a dress. The most beautiful dress, made from the finest fabric, in the most fashionable style. Then she spent the savings she had hoarded for a very long ti to buy a pair of shoes, a pair of earrings, and a tube of lipstick.
On the night of the ball, she put on that dress and had her friend do her hair and her makeup.
Then she appeared at the ball.
No one recognized her.
Those noble ladies stared at her, their eyes filled with amazent and jealousy.
They whispered among themselves, asking whose daughter she was and why they had never heard of her before. The young gentlen and noble sons stared at her too, dumbfounded. So of them were so entranced that they forgot the wineglasses in their hands, not even noticing when wine spilled across their clothes.
She beca the brightest rose at the ball.
But she did not look at any of them.
She looked only at him.
At that young master standing in the corner, frowning while being pestered by a girl in a pink dress. That girl was tugging at his sleeve, insisting that he dance with her.
The maid walked over.
Her heart was pounding so hard it felt ready to burst out of her chest.
Her legs were trembling, trembling so badly she could barely walk steadily.
But she still went.
She stopped in front of that young lady and said, “He is my dance partner.”
The young lady froze.
The young master froze as well.
He looked at the beautiful girl before him, at those gray-violet eyes, those faintly tinted lips, that face he had seen for more than ten years, and yet had never truly looked at in this way before.
He recognized her.
The maid held out her hand.
Her palm was slick with sweat.
The young master looked at her, and sothing flickered in those always-cool eyes.
Then he placed his hand in hers.
That night, they danced gracefully across the ballroom floor. Everyone watched them. Everyone envied them. Everyone thought they were a perfect match descended from the heavens.
Only the two of them knew that she was rely his maid.
After the ball ended, the maid changed out of the dress, removed her makeup, and beca that ordinary, inconspicuous little maid once more.
It was as if nothing had changed.
The young master was still the sa aloof young master, and she was still the maid who served him. He said nothing and asked nothing, as though that night had never happened at all.
But she had changed.
She had taken that first step.
From then on, she began doing more and more.
At als, she would “accidentally” use the sa utensils as he did. He did not object.
While walking, she would “accidentally” brush against his hand. He did not avoid her.
When she brought him hot milk at night, she would “accidentally” linger in his room a little longer. He did not send her away.
Later, she even “accidentally” fell asleep in his bed.
That night, when she carried the milk in, he was reading. She set the cup down and stood behind him, watching him. He was so focused on his book that he did not notice her. She watched his profile, his thick lashes, the straight line of his nose, those thin lips pressed together.
She did not know how long she stood there.
By the ti she ca back to herself, she was already lying in his bed.
She did not even know how she had ended up there. She only rembered that her heart had been beating so fast it felt ready to explode. Curled beneath the covers, with only her head exposed, she stared at his back.
When he finished reading and turned around, he saw her.
She had thought he would be angry.
She had thought he would throw her out.
But he only looked at her for a while, then sighed, lay down, and went to sleep on the other side of the bed.
He did nothing.
He simply went to sleep beside her.
From that day on, she ca every night. At first, she only lay there. Later, she tried inching closer, a little closer, then a little closer still.
He did not refuse her.
Later, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he still did not move.
Later, she wrapped her arms around one of his, and he still did not move.
And later—
Cosette’s face flushed bright red.
She stared at the words on the page, at those descriptions of things even more outrageous, things she had never imagined and never heard of before.
Those words were like a blaze, burning her cheeks hot, burning the tips of her ears red, burning her whole body until she felt as though she might catch fire.
She did not dare keep reading.
But she could not stop herself from reading.
The maid in the story did so many things, so many that Cosette found them unbelievable.
They were far too improper, far too shaless, far too—
Far too...
And yet that young master had never rejected her.
Not once.
In the end, he fell in love with her.
Hopelessly, irreparably in love.
He began seeking her out on his own.
He began taking her hand on his own.
He began pulling her into his arms on his own.
He whispered things by her ear that she had never even dared imagine, and those eyes that had always been so cold looked at her, and only her.
Later, he restored his family and beca a great man respected by all.
And he married her.
Not as a concubine.
Not as a mistress.
He married her openly and properly, making her his lawful wife.
They spent the rest of their lives together.
Cosette stared at the last page without moving.
She did not know how long she had been looking at it.
By the ti she ca back to herself, the sunlight outside had already turned orange-red. The evening sun poured into the room, laying a warm glow over everything.
She raised her head and found Lano watching her.
There was laughter in those amber eyes, deep laughter, and sothing else she could not understand.
“Well?” Lano asked.
Cosette parted her lips, but no words ca out.
Her mind was in complete chaos.
That maid had done so many things, things Cosette herself would never even dare imagine, and in the end, she had won her young master’s love.
She had won happiness.
Then...
Then could I do that too?
Cosette’s fingers dug tightly into the page.
Her heart was pounding so fast it felt ready to leap out of her chest.
Her face was burning, so hot it felt like a fever.
Her legs were pressed together, and the slender calves wrapped in white over-the-knee stockings were trembling faintly.
If I could too...
If I were more proactive, just like that maid...
Then would Master...
She thought of Ryan’s face.
That face that so rarely showed expression, those gray-blue eyes, those thin, pressed lips.
Would he also be moved by her, just like the young master in the story had been? Would he also look at her like that?
There were so many people around him.
Senior Eleanor, the Sword Duke’s daughter, so beautiful and so strong.
Cecilia Ishtar, so noble, so beautiful, and so kind to him.
And then there was Ilis, that silent attendant. The way she looked at Master... it seed different too...
Cosette’s heart clenched sharply.
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