IBAWWMB (Novel) Chapter 19

  

C19

"What are you doing all of a sudden? There's no way you're trying to get my attention like this?"

When Deborah didn't act according to what he expected, Philap felt confused. She's a woman who doesn't lose to anyone in her desire to show off and her vanity.

It's a good time to boast, so why is she so quiet?

Philap, who was absentmindedly looking at Deborah's back, turned his head, furrowing his brow.

"Wow."

At that moment, Mia, who was standing beside him, suddenly exclaimed.

"What?"

"That young lady with purple hair is really beautiful. There are truly many elegant and sophisticated ladies in the capital."

Elegant?

If you know Deborah's personality, that word would never come out of your mouth.

Perhaps she really knows nothing of the world, coming from a poor family.

Well, it was true that Deborah looked sophisticated just by looking at her appearance. Maybe it was the way her clothing matched the color of her hair, there was something about her that drew your attention.

Her long, white neck was more prominent due to the black pearl necklace, and her body was clearly...

"Darn it. What are you thinking? Are you crazy?"

No matter how weak a man is to what he sees, Philap, wanting to gouge out his eyes, hurriedly turned to Mia and spoke.

"Mia, you are much more beautiful and elegant. You can't even compare her to a woman like that."

"Please, don't say that."

Mia squeezed his hand nervously.

"You are even more humble than anyone."

Philap deliberately burst into laughter, conspicuously.

"Time is really slow. My neck will stiffen if I keep this up."

When I looked out the window, my trapezius muscle was stiff.

"They must have lost interest in me by now, right?"

Glancing briefly after a reasonable amount of time, Philap and Mia were chatting in their own world.

They are so affectionate.

May the two of them live happily ever after. And then I looked at the teacher, praying that he wouldn't be a bother to me.

The first class is politics.

I took out a pen and a book titled "Understanding Politics" from my bag.

"What's with this princess-style pen?"

A pink pen with embedded jewels. I wondered why she bought such pretty school supplies even though she didn't study.

"Oh? But this is amazing."

Is it because it's an expensive pen? The feeling of it gliding on the paper is impressive.

Unlike the study pens, it was light and had a proper length, so the feeling when holding it was excellent too.

Like a writing instrument that fits my hand after a long time, the doodles I used to make in my final days of college appeared; and I found something else that Deborah was good at.

I have a golden touch.

I could clearly feel Deborah's skill because I had no talent in my previous life.

I used this hand to draw the academy building that I saw in the distance, through the window, more accurately than when I was a college student.

If I had such amazing talent in my previous life, I could have gone into the architecture department.

After completing a masterpiece in the corner of the book, I, who had left my body in that train of thought, rubbed my dry eyes.

"I'm sleepy..."

The letters in the book split into three or four, maybe because I couldn't sleep well last night before the classes started.

The teacher's voice was monotonous, so it sounded like a lullaby, and the sunlight in the spot where I was sitting was too good.

"Oh, whatever. I'm a character who doesn't study anyway."

My thoughts were so far away.

Lying down face down, I had a dream of my previous life.

Even in my dream, I was sitting in the classroom.

Now that I think about it, most of my 24 years of life were spent in a classroom. 12 years in elementary, middle, and high school, and 4 years in college. And in this world, the academy just before graduation.

Isn't it a kind of endless story?

As I lamented whether I had been possessed by a ghost because I couldn't stop studying, I heard the doorknob turning.

"Yoon Do-Hee."

I gritted my teeth.

The person who opened the door and appeared was Kim Han-Joon.

He's a handsome jerk, but he's a bully.

"Han-Joon. Is there something wrong?"

I should have started spitting out curses I hadn't said, but in my dream, I was saying stupid things in a kind voice, like someone possessed by something.

"Have you eaten?"

"Ah, not yet."

"Let's eat together. I'll pay this time."

"Thank you. I was just hungry."

Hey! You've been getting expensive stuff from me all the time, don't take me to the student cafeteria like you're being generous.

And why am I impressed with getting a 5,000-won pork cutlet there?

"Do-Hee. After eating, I want to have coffee."

"Oppa, I'll buy the coffee!"

Shut up! Stop it.

"Can I try the new Starbucks menu?"

"Of course."

"By the way, if I collect two more stamps, I can get a diary."

"Ah, then I'll give you all the stamps."

Did I even give her the stamps? What a monstrosity.

While watching the agonizing memories passing through my mind, embarrassed, a light tap on my shoulder made me jump.

"What is this? Am I still dreaming?"

As soon as I opened my eyes, a handsome blonde man appeared.

Looking at the man's face, I furrowed my brow.

I wondered how someone could be so incredibly handsome.

I'm sure he's an angel who appeared out of pity because I was pathetic for having nightmares about Kim Han-Joon.

I watched the angel who suddenly intruded into my dream, with an obviously grateful feeling.

The scene of sunlight breaking over his golden-melted hair was divine.

If his hair was like the sun, his clear eyes were like a sea of emerald.

The gently raised nose seemed to have been carved by a craftsman, and the soft lips were beautiful as if the goddess had carefully crafted them for three days and three nights.

His facial line was sharp but delicate, and his long neck and prominent Adam's apple were masculine.

It was a beauty I couldn't take my eyes off of. I had the illusion that time flowed slowly around this man.

Suddenly, the angelic-looking man approached me and opened his mouth.

"The class has ended, Lady Deborah."

I suddenly came to my senses at the low voice that resonated in my ears.

Wasn't it a dream?

Even after rubbing my dry eyes once, the unreal-looking man was still standing in front of me.

"... Who are you?"

I murmured sleepily.

"Don't you know me?"

Embarrassment passed through his emerald-colored eyes.

"Should I know you?"

I replied like that, but the truth is, I was also embarrassed.

How is it possible that Deborah doesn't remember such a handsome guy? That's really rude.

Only strong impressions were left in Deborah's fragmented memories, and this blonde man seems to have had no impact on her.

"Is that even possible?"

I think we should acknowledge Deborah's true love for Philap. How much she liked him, that she didn't even look at a man like this.

As I thought about it, the handsome man in front of me regained his composure and smiled.

When a gentle smile appeared on his well-formed lips, I could barely keep calm and felt a sense of crisis.

"Is this... is he attacking me?"

"Haha, maybe you don't know. Isidor Visconti. That's my name."

The man who quickly regained his composure gave me his name in a cold manner.

Isidor Visconti.

I thought I had heard it somewhere, and I remembered; it was the name that was mentioned the most in the conversation of the young ladies I met at the Maisond.

"He was everyone's favorite."

Looking at his face, I fully understood it. If he were in Korea, he would have raised several buildings just by standing in front of the camera.

"But did something happen?"

In response to my question, the man handed me something with his leather-gloved hand.

"This..."

What he handed over was a pamphlet related to politics.

Did he get mine separately?

It seems he took a pamphlet and waited until I woke up.

But that's strange.

Just by listening, he would know I'm the crazy one here; so why is he suddenly talking to me and treating me with care?

I looked at the handsome blonde suspiciously.

I already suspected, but due to the dream I had with Kim Han-Joon, I immediately remembered the first time I met him.

Kim Han-Joon also waited for me to wake up, while I was sleeping face down like now, and gave me a pamphlet handed to him by the teaching assistant.

After that, I pretended to be busy with this and that and worked hard like a greedy person.

"I don't need this kind of stuff."

I returned the pamphlet he gave me coldly.

The politics class at the academy was quite easy to yawn through anyway. Compared to the difficulty level of fourth-year specialization books in college, it was a piece of cake. The pamphlet seemed to be a summary of the first part of the book, so memorizing the book was enough.

"But there's nothing wrong with keeping it, is there?"

"...Why are you so intrusive?"

"He just had a nightmare, right?"

"What?"

"Seeing you sleeping with that expression made me want to be intrusive. Ah, maybe you're hungry? It's lunchtime now."

I was secretly surprised by the natural change of topic.

What the heck is this guy?

"I'm not hungry."

"That's good. Actually, I'm not very hungry either. I'll just have tea."

"I don't have time."

After firmly rejecting him with a few words, I quickly walked away from him.

I could feel an absurd gaze staring at the back of my head, but I hurried my steps as if something was chasing me.

Because there has been a warning signal sounding in my head from before.

"That's dangerous."

If I keep looking at that face, I might want to give it all without asking or finding out his intentions.

Simply put, the blonde guy was the one who awakened the easy instincts sleeping inside me.

As the fool I am, I was desperately weak to men who fit my tastes, like Kim Han-Joon.

However, that Isi-whatever-his-name-was had an inhuman face that slightly crushed the wall of taste.

"There are many people here and there to be careful of."

Thinking that I couldn't let my guard down because it was a tragic novel, I bit my nails.

-------------------------

His teacher, who confidently approached Princess Deborah, telling her that he would use her face, returned mercilessly alone.

Is it just his feeling? That face, which was always relaxed, looked somewhat dejected.

For some reason, he has a suspicion that he's interested in Princess Deborah.

While struggling to contain a broad smile that kept trying to appear, Miguel asked with his most innocent eyes.

"Sir. Didn't you tell me that you would have a lunch date today and that I could return first?"

Isidor narrowed his eyes at Miguel's cunning question.

"Are you asking because you know or because you don't know? Either way, that's the problem. My vassal is either cheeky or foolish."

"Prince. Maybe the handsome boy's strategy didn't work. Does he seem to have become a bit sensitive?"

"I see there's nothing you can't say."

When Isidor kicked Miguel violently in the shin, Miguel jumped and let out a grunt.

After venting his anger on an innocent person, he secretly looked at his face in the window and felt apprehension.

"There's no way this face doesn't work. I don't understand."

"I guess it's not to Princess Deborah's liking."

"It's not a face divided between like or dislike. The golden ratio. Don't you know?"

"Exceptions exist everywhere. In the eyes of Princess Deborah, it seems she has a preference for Lord Philap over you, sir."

When Philap's name was mentioned, Isidor's brow furrowed slightly.

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