The man's fingers were skillful like a handicraftsman. Those tiny buttons seem not a matter at all to his calloused fingertips.
There was a kind of incompatible tenderness in his movements. That made Susan confused. It was as if he was no longer the obnoxious bastard but a true gentleman.
The strange feeling crawled on her skin, itchy and tingling, running beneath the clothes and the fingers.
Susan tried to straighten her back to avoid the feeling. A quiver suddenly went through her body. It almost made her want to run away from the touching.
"It's weird," she murmured to herself.
Susan held his breath, her fingers gripping the hem of her dress, forcing herself to ignore the weird feeling.
To distract herself, she started to study the room.
The house had no windows and little furniture except for a large table.
Four or five attendants, scattered in the corner of the room, dressed in black cloaks, boots, swords, and neat clothes made by a fine tailor but not wearing any family sigil.
So the bastard is probably a nobleman.
Susan's mind, which was overwhelmed by anger, gradually calmed down.
The previous scene began to play back in her mind.
He harbored her when the soldiers were hunting her. He thought she was a spy. He was waiting for someone in this inconspicuous house. He and his entourage were dressed in an understated tone, not wearing any sigil. Here's so close to the palace.
And, Why did the soldiers pursue two petty thieves so relentlessly that they had to search almost door to door? It is definitely a sign of catching dangerous criminals. Susan didn't think she and Ella were not worthy of this gesture.
So, this guy is not just an aristocrat, but a high-ranking aristocrat who may be up to something!
By the way, what did he say earlier? He asked her about assassinating the Queen???
God! So what he's planning? Would that be an assassination?
Susan gasped.
And she seemed to scratch and bite him and call him a bastard?
Thinking of this, Susan suddenly felt the big trouble looming on the horizon.
Susan was distraught.
Although she had only been in this world for a month, it was enough for her to have some common sense.
In this world, nobles and commoners are the difference between gods and insects. A Lord has almost all the power over the people of his land. Even a commoner who wishes to marry must have his lord's permission.
Whether Susan wants to admit it or not, the fact is that the bastard in front of her would not get any punishment for molesting her. Even if he did rape her, she could only hold her tongue and couldn't do anything to him. For that is the privilege of the damned nobility.
Common sense also told Susan that what she had done just now was enough get herself to be hanged several times.
What the hell is she supposed to do?
At that moment, she heard him breathing softly behind her, his warm hands leaving her body.
Susan turned stiffly, her mind a blank. Her creative brain had hardly any ideas, just like a rusty machine,
It would be simple if she were just an ordinary civilian girl. She needs to kneel at once, beg the lord's forgiveness, and shed tears of gratitude for his gracious help. What man can refuse the deliberate ingratiation of a beautiful adolescent girl? And the noble lords were always ready to give their mercy to the lovely maidens.
But she's no ordinary civilian girl.
So Susan stared at the ground, motionless, neither speaking nor looking at the man. It's like being called into an office as a child and scolded by a teacher. She stood erect, head down, fists clenched, and refused to talk.
She's not stupid enough to fight an aristocrat, but she would not easily compromise with them.
What do they call this again?
Yea, non-violent non-cooperation. That's what Susan is doing now.
Silence.
But the man on the other side was equally silent. Susan could feel his profound and austere gaze upon her. He seems to be a man well adapted to silence. He is more inclined to observe than to listen.
Facing silence, however, was not Susan's strong suit. The general social silence had made her feel awkward and antsy. Now, faceting this bastard nobleman, who held the power of her life and death, the silence was more like a sharp-edged blade hanging over her head, making her fearful.