If You Conquer Me - Chapter 16
If he’s sending everyone out, it must be something serious.
Ophelia tensed for a moment. But, to her surprise, the meal proceeded like any other ordinary one.
The fresh salad and steak looked delicious, but Ophelia couldn’t focus on her food at all. She was so aware of Hugo that she wasn’t even sure if the food was going into her mouth or her nose.
During this, Ophelia stole a glance at Hugo. He was moving with the grace of a gentleman straight out of a manual on proper manners.
The way he silently spooned the soup, or moved his knife gracefully to separate only the lean meat from the T-bone steak.
If he’s good with a sword, does that mean he’s also good with a knife?
Lost in such trivial thoughts, Ophelia was suddenly interrupted.
“What’s the matter?”
Hugo’s voice, tinged with amusement, asked her. Ophelia stiffened and quickly turned her gaze away as she met his eyes.
“Is there something you don’t like?”
Hugo’s red eyes stared directly at her, as if he were reading her mind.
“No, nothing.”
Ophelia answered politely, but averted her eyes to the soup bowl in front of her to avoid his gaze.
“By the way, Leticia.”
Hugo leaned back in his chair leisurely. Leticia. The nickname sounded so unfamiliar.
“You really don’t seem like a typical Ascaniorian. You’re eating with such proper manners, like something out of a rulebook.”
“….”
That sounded exactly like what Ophelia had just been thinking about him. She felt like he had seen through her thoughts. Her appetite instantly vanished, and she set her utensils down.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Hugo changed the subject at that moment.
“By the way, I think you might need a teacher.”
“A teacher?”
“Yes. A commoner gladiator slave, and yet you move with such elegance without any training at all.”
Hugo shrugged his shoulders.
“Isn’t that just a little too suspicious?”
Although his tone was close to a joke, Hugo’s words hit the mark. Ophelia grew a little more serious.
“Indeed… that might be a problem.”
As Hugo had said, there was no way a common gladiator slave could have received proper education.
However, despite being treated poorly, Ophelia was still a princess. With the reasoning that she couldn’t bring shame to the royal family, she had to receive solid training.
After an almost abusive process, she had managed to internalize the posture and manners one would expect from a guidebook on proper etiquette. Now, every small movement of hers naturally carried the traces of those days.
Seeing the dark expression on Ophelia’s face, Hugo shrugged as if to reassure her.
“I’ll take care of finding a teacher, so don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll leave it to you.”
If Ophelia’s true identity were revealed, Hugo’s situation would certainly become troublesome as well. So, he would probably handle it well.
…Or will he really take care of it?
Ophelia suddenly found herself confused. As she looked at Hugo with a complicated expression, she decided to just give up on thinking about it. After all, this wasn’t something she could control.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Hugo asked, looking at Ophelia.
“What’s wrong with my gaze?”
“Very insolent. It’s like you’re looking at me as the world’s most shameless conman.”
That’s accurate. Ophelia suppressed the urge to give him a sharp retort. Just then, Hugo, who had been carelessly stirring his salad, put his fork down and abruptly stood up.
“Are you done eating?”
Ophelia looked surprised for a moment. After all, she had nearly finished her meal. It was almost as though he had been gauging her eating speed and adjusting his own accordingly.
“Well, let’s take a short walk. There are eyes watching us here.”
“I’d rather just rest in the mansion.”
“Hmm.”
Hugo muttered under his breath in displeasure, stroking his chin.
“At this point, I think it’s quicker to explain that I’m attracted to unruly women.”
“Fine.”
Ophelia stood up reluctantly. Hugo smiled as he extended his hand to her. It was the manner of a knight escorting a lady.
Ophelia gazed at his outstretched hand for a moment before slowly placing her own hand on his.
So stiff.
His hand was rough, calloused from years of wielding a sword. Just the texture of it made her feel like she could sense how many battles he had endured.
And she knew that her homeland, Ascanior, was one of the places he had fought through.
Ophelia’s mood sank deeply.
