IBAWWMB (Novel) Chapter 103



"Well, do you have something to talk to me?"

"... Talk to you?"

Seeing the slow response, Isidor was once again convinced that Princess Deborah was not in a healthy state.

"First of all, it's cold, so use this for now."

As soon as he took the glass of water, Isidor took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

Princess Deborah suddenly murmured as she was enveloped in a large black jacket.


Isidor raised his hand in confusion.



"Do you know how many fingers there are?"

While he waved three fingers in front of her red eyes, she frowned.

"...two. I'm not drunk."

She was proudly mistaken, but her eyes didn't look drunk at all.

As she looked at him as if she were about to break a finger, Isidor quickly bent one of his fingers.

"Yes, there are two. The princess is correct."

She smiled gently, relaxing her eyes.

He could feel the back of his neck warming for no reason.

Because the occasional smile the princess showed was really beautiful.

"Somehow, I feel like I'm being influenced."

"... you are kind, Sir Isidor."

She muttered as she took a sip of water.


It was true that he was being kind to the princess. He had never approached someone like this in the first place.

Until last year, he had avoided official parties as much as possible on the pretext of working in the duchy, and this year, he wasn't going to come to the academy, but someone changed his plans.

"... and suspiciously too perfect."

At her next words, Isidor squinted his eyes.

"Where in the world does a perfect person exist? They either hide their flaws or pretend to be strong."


Princess Deborah pondered the word "pretend" a couple of times.

"They say the stronger the light, the deeper the shadow."

Isidor said, looking at the large crescent moon buried in darkness, only halfway visible.

It wasn't like him.

Seeing candid stories coming out of his mouth, he seemed to be intoxicated by the gloomy atmosphere of the moonlight.

"... Hiding flaws under the shadow?"

"It could be."

Then there was silence between the two.

Isidor suddenly opened his mouth jokingly, touching his cheek.

"But who is perfect? I can't even play the piano."

"... that makes you cute."

"Is it cute?"

Isidor looked at the princess with an absurd mood. Then, suddenly, he put on his jacket.

"What's wrong?"

"... It's dazzling. I want to avoid the light."

"She's really out of control."

However, the problem was that her unusual appearance was very cute.

She was a quiet drunkard who made him want to keep looking, starting by choosing to step on only the golden floor decorations.

He felt like he was looking at another side of her that had been hidden by her bad rumors and cold looks.

"It's nighttime, but what's blinding your sight? Is it because of the moonlight?"

Isidor asked kindly with a smile.

The princess closed her eyes until a wrinkle formed between her eyebrows, and then suddenly opened her eyelids.

"... It's gone."


"Suddenly, the optic nerve was overloaded, so I took a break."

She constantly mumbled nonsense and then fixed her gaze on Isidor's hand.

"She seems to be the type to latch onto one thing when she's drunk."

And the fact that it's her own hand isn't so bad. If it were someone else's hand... wouldn't her wrist have to fly?

Suddenly, the thought passed through his mind for a moment.

By the way, how long is he planning to watch her?

The red eyes clung persistently to her. Isidor gently squeezed her hand and then let go.

"And why am I so nervous in front of a drunk person?"

He said quietly as he frantically patted his hand against his knee.

"... I like big hands that can play the piano well."

"Why the piano of all things?"

He was an ideal type that was somewhat ordinary but far from himself. Meanwhile, Thierry ridiculously played the piano well.

He forced a smile on his lips.

"I'm practicing the piano every day. I'm going to play until I'm good at it, so don't play with Thierry in the meantime. He's a known performer."

"... Do you practice?"

"Yes, a lot. I want you to praise me every day."

"... I don't think I can do that for at least ten years."

"But don't you think my hands are much bigger and more plausible?"

"... Yes. I can't deny that."

She relaxed her eyes again and smiled gently. It was fun because her gathered hair shook slightly.

"... Your hands are really beautiful."

"If they're so beautiful and you like them, take them with you and have a look."

"... Give them to me."

She reached out her hand without hesitation as if she had been waiting for it.

"Anyway, she won't remember."

Isidor sighed and placed his large hand over Princess Deborah's hand, like a well-behaved dog listening to its owner.

"Is it okay?"

Suddenly, like a ruby, the princess's red eyes shone like those of a child. She tilted her head slowly, as if trying to observe the target she was constantly aiming at closely.

Isn't she looking too closely?

Just as her face and hand were getting closer to her lips, as if she were about to touch them, the tip of her finger slipped inside her sleeve.

"Wait, what is she doing...?"

Isidor's broad shoulders and long back were tightly tense due to the fingers slowly sinking into the tip of the glove.

A tingling sensation enveloped his wrist.

He had told her to look, but in reality, he didn't know she was going to try to look at his bare hands.

Faced with the unexpected situation, Isidor's eyes widened, and his lips hardened with embarrassment.

But he couldn't pull away.

In fact, it would be more accurate to say he didn't want to.

"I'm going crazy."

Just like when they first met, the princess broke the line she had drawn without warning.

Now, like a black swan, she appears unexpectedly, invading and occupying his deepest senses.

Clear boundaries were shaken here and there.

As she dug into the palm of his hand, a burning sensation rose over him. It certainly wasn't that hot at the moment.

A sweet and bitter sensation ran through his hand like an electric current.

As the texture of their skin overlapped slightly, the moment her fingers traced the back of his hand, a moan seemed to flow, so he had to bite the inside of his lips.

Isidor's hand, pale enough to be bluish, was tightly intertwined with her slender and elegant hand.

In an instant, the gloves that peeled off like skin fell powerless.


Isidor's large hands were as white as snow and had a masculine and firm touch.

The corners of his eyes that met hers were redder than usual, and they looked fierce.


A soft and hard hand clamped between her fingers as if it were devouring her.

Their hands were only touching, but her cheeks tingled, and her toes curled.

As soon as she realized that the body temperature she had touched was too high, she quickly withdrew her hand as if she had been burned.


The empty glass of water next to her fell to the floor and shattered.

Belatedly, a bright red warning light lit up in her head.

"What am I really trying to check?"

The burning sensation spread to her chest despite being muddled by alcohol.

"Am I dreaming?"

Drunk and confused, she tried to quickly deny reality and rushed to hand back the jacket as if she were destroying evidence.

"It's cold, so wear it."

A deep voice echoed in her ears. Her senses were dulled, and she couldn't identify the emotion in his voice.

It was burning to the point where her palm hurt.

Her vision spun.

She looked around like a lost child, clutching the lapel covering her body.

"I'll take you to the carriage. You're drunk."

His voice gradually faded. The surrounding area changed, and at some point, the image was cut off.

And the next morning.

She woke up in bed.

"Ugh, my head hurts."

As soon as she woke up, she had a terrible hangover and a headache.

The servants who saw her suffering held her hair and brought an herbal tea that was said to be good for headaches.

"I desperately need paracetamol."

She frowned as she drank tea, which had a very ineffective effect, and then suddenly dropped the tea cup.

This was because the beautiful bare hands of Isidor appeared clearly in her mind.

"Uh, why was I taking off his gloves?"

The fragments of memories that happened last night were three times more effective than two paracetamol pills. Embarrassment easily overcame the pain.

She slammed her forehead against the pillow and destroyed the information about Isidor that she had bought for a total of 1,000 gold from an information guild.


What the hell did I do?

And why did I drink so much?

No matter how strong Deborah was, it didn't seem reasonable to drink a glass every time someone was introduced to her.

"From now on, champagne will be limited to just five glasses."

Regretfully, she alternated punches between the bed and the wall.

"Damn it."

"What should I do?"

She bit her lips and soon found the answer.

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