Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 108
He had never been so direct about not crossing boundaries before; in fact, he usually accepted a bit of closeness without complaint. Isabella saw a glimmer of hope in that behavior—perhaps the hope that he might see her as a woman.
“Lady, aren’t you a bit young? You’ve never engaged in such contact before.”
“That’s…!”
She had been cautious, not acting solely with marriage in mind. Isabella believed that one day, she would have her chance. She had firmly trusted and waited because she thought there were no other women in his life.
“Is it because of your name master?”
Yes. Until that woman appeared, their relationship hadn’t been bad. They acted according to their respective roles, and Rubens never made Isabella feel small.
But after starting the name therapy, Rubens changed. She couldn’t be certain how deep their connection was, but her intuition told her his heart was definitely directed elsewhere. Isabella could no longer pretend to be unaware.
“I know. The Duke revealed his name in the winter.”
So what does that mean for her? Rubens didn’t say anything, but his indifferent expression seemed to communicate that sentiment. It felt as if he didn’t care if Isabella chose to break off the engagement.
‘So that’s why he’s treating me this way.’
At that realization, Isabella’s fists trembled with frustration. Their relationship appeared to be deeper than she had imagined.
“Do you love her?”
Having a lover was not uncommon among nobles, so Isabella thought it could happen to her as well. In truth, she wasn’t the type of woman who would obsess over love; she had enough tolerance to overlook a mere affair.
“Are you in love with that woman?”
But why was she so angry now? After all, she needed Rubens’s status. She had accepted the match because of his looks, abilities, and noble lineage. So why was she feeling this way?
“Love, huh…”
Rubens, who had been silent, suddenly chuckled softly, as if he had heard a ridiculous joke.
“Even if I don’t love her, you certainly are not in a position to demand that. If you wish to become a Duchess smoothly, remember my words.”
Even as he spoke coldly, he still retained a trace of amusement on his face.
“I will ensure you live comfortably and elegantly as you are now, but you must maintain your distance.”
He promised to maintain an outwardly equal relationship as long as she remembered her place.
This arrogant man ruthlessly crushed Isabella’s meager expectations. It was the first time in her life she had felt such humiliation, and her face twitched with shame.
* * *
“You should get some rest since you have to wake up early tomorrow.”
“Just let me see this first.”
With the engagement ceremony approaching the next day, Rubens spoke in a noticeably languid tone as he reviewed the organized reports.
The ceremony would take place at the Cathedral of Laden, followed by a reception at the Duke’s residence.
Everything was perfectly prepared—the band to liven up the festivities, the lavish decorations, the guests who would come to celebrate, the food, cakes, wine—everything was in order. Yet, he felt an unsettling discomfort creeping in.
Fatigue weighed heavily on him, yet sleep didn’t come to him. The headache that had subsided seemed to be returning. He realized he hadn’t been to the cabin for a while due to the busy preparations for the engagement.
Rubbing his temples, he instinctively uttered her name.
“What did Macy do this afternoon?”
“She went to her room early after dinner.”
“I see.”
It was a report without any issues, yet the discomfort intensified like a thorn in his throat. Suddenly, memories of the townhouse came rushing back.
Macy had promised to fetch her brush but returned after quite some time. As a result, an uncomfortable atmosphere lingered between him and Isabella for a long while. Macy’s face had been pale when she returned.
When he later asked why she was late, she simply said she couldn’t find her brush, which had caused the delay.
‘Why did she have to do something she’s not used to?’
Rubens found the events of that day unpleasant. It wasn’t hard to understand Isabella’s bewilderment at his dismissive attitude. He had never made her feel uncomfortable over something as trivial as removing an eyelash.
In fact, he had never felt bothered by Isabella’s touch before. However, that day was different; he was unusually sensitive.
The cheek where Isabella’s hand had briefly touched felt filthy, as if bugs were crawling on it. He wanted to shake it off immediately and wash it clean with fresh water.
Was it the overpowering scent of her perfume that made him feel this way? That couldn’t be the reason since he had been accustomed to that scent all along.
‘And to dare mention the name in front of me.’
