TPCF 39

CHAPTER 39……..

Though Anita tried to remain calm, she was gradually growing anxious. A sense of indebtedness crept in toward Edmund, who was going out of his way for her despite not being particularly close, and an uneasy premonition that Charles would not back down easily pressed on her chest.

In the end, she felt anger rising—why did she, innocent of any crime, have to feel like this at all?

“I’ll give you one day. Pack your things and get lost.”

Edmund waved dismissively, as though too tired to deal with him any longer. Charles, still fuming, suddenly snapped his head toward Anita. His eyes gleamed in a way that looked anything but sane.

“You—you! Do you even know who I am?”

Knowing it was useless to reason with someone unhinged, Anita took another step back. Charles darted glances around, as if searching for someone who might take his side. But the students who met his gaze either looked at him with contempt or turned away.

At last, realizing no one would come to his defense, he stood there seething for a moment, then spun on his heel.

The air quieted, like the calm after a storm. Watching Charles’s retreating back for a moment, Edmund poked Anita’s shoulder.

“Well then. Let’s go get lunch.”

“Oh—yes. Of course.”

He had helped her, so it was only right she repay him. Anita resolved to buy him whatever he asked for.

As the two of them made to leave, the spectators who had gathered gradually dispersed, their interest gone. “What a lunatic,” someone muttered within Anita’s earshot. She nodded to herself in full agreement.

“By the way,” she whispered into his ear, careful that no one else could hear, “is it really all right to go around bragging about being the count’s grandson? I thought you weren’t on good terms with him.”

“It’s fine.”

So he had some method after all. In that case, there was no need to worry further.

“I’ll manage somehow.”

“Oh…”

“I haven’t said anything that isn’t true. That old man may dislike me, but he’s the one who shoved me into the president’s seat when I didn’t even want it. And he knows better than anyone that if he ignores what I’ve done just to spite me, he’ll only damage his own reputation.”

Perhaps Anita had made a doubtful expression without realizing it, because Edmund glanced at her and added, “That works in my favor.”

“That’s good to know… So, is there anything you’d like to eat?”

“Now it sounds like I only helped you so you’d buy me lunch. Makes me seem like a shameless opportunist.”

“…Isn’t that what you are?”

His gray eyes flashed with an odd light.

“Not entirely wrong.”

Anita’s lips, frozen stiff until now, curved just slightly.

“Thank you.”

“I was going to have to deal with Charles Bennet sooner or later anyway. I’d only been putting it off because it was a hassle.”

Whether he’d helped out of genuine goodwill or some other reason didn’t matter much. What mattered was that Charles, who had been such a constant irritation, had finally been driven off.

Still, since Edmund had helped her, it was only proper to take him to a nice restaurant. But Anita realized with some dismay that since coming to Aberdeen, she’d never actually sat down for a proper meal anywhere. She had always been too busy running from Rutger’s watchful eyes, or simply too lazy to bother.

So she decided to push the choice onto Edmund, who surely knew more about the local options than she did.

“Anything you want to eat?”

“Whatever you want, senior.”

“You don’t need to be so formal. Honestly, it’s a little uncomfortable.”

“Then… what should I call you?”

“Whatever you like. Hey, you. Or whatever else.”

Had anyone else said it, she might have laughed it off as a joke. But coming from Edmund, it sounded almost threatening.

As Anita frowned uneasily, his face suddenly drew close.

“Or—how about Ed? That’s my nickname.”

“That sounds way too familiar.”

“So what if it does?”

“Well…”

Anita stopped herself. Now that she thought about it, there was no real problem if she agreed.

“I’ll… think about it.”

She smoothly put off answering.

“In case you’re worried—I really don’t mind what you call me. After all, it’s your word, not mine. Shouldn’t the one doing the calling be comfortable?”

The reasoning was strangely convincing, and Anita almost nodded along.

“In that case, isn’t it fine if I just keep speaking to you like I am now? I’m comfortable with it.”

Edmund gave no reply.

Their conversation meandered on, a blend of jokes and half-serious words that were hard to pin down.

“How about here?”

Anita truly didn’t care where they ate, so she followed him into the place he indicated without even glancing at the sign.

Their quarrel with Charles Bennet had eaten up so much time that the lunch hour was long past. The restaurant was quiet and sparsely filled.

Anita, whose eating habits were simple—anything that filled her stomach was fine—chose something at random. It might have been a salmon dish.

“Come to think of it, why was that guy after you in the first place?”

“Oh… it just sort of happened.”

Who wanted to hear someone else’s messy troubles? Anita brushed the question aside with a vague reply.

“I really want to know.”

But seeing Edmund stare directly at her, she changed her mind. It seemed he simply wanted to fill the dull wait before the food arrived with her story.

“Well then…”

Unfolding the neatly folded napkin and placing it on her lap, Anita began to speak. She told him how they had first met by chance. How persistent Charles Bennet had been.

At first, Edmund listened lazily, propping his chin on one hand. But when Anita reached the part where Charles had broken into her room, he straightened at once.