"Much less glamorous...in your very built one.." Maxine muttered under her breath, not liking the sound of that. For someone as noble as she was, the coffin wasn't what she would be buried in. She would be put in a fine casket which would probably be made of gold. Looking at the long-haired handsome man in front of her, she shook her head, saying out loud, "No, my Lord. I shall not end up in a coffin you built yourself."
It was a statement, a statement she made herself believe in before she dropped her gaze to the scroll that was given to her.
Slowly and carefully, her eyes scanned each word written on the scroll. She noticed the man's gaze right on her but she didn't care.
Who could have thought someone had been making a lot of research pertaining to her and had written all these for her to sign?
Her eyes dropped to the blank space at the end of the scroll, signifying her need for adding any other condition that she wanted to, and then she raised her head, meeting his gaze. "Duke Sullivan..." Maxine had no choice but to call him that since the man persisted that it was his name and it was also the same name that had been written in the scroll. "Why would you think I would agree to get married to you?"
That question bothered her. Did this man think that because he was so handsome, every woman would want to be his, regardless of any other thing? She wouldn't say she had not faltered about his beauty; however, because of that, she didn't think that she would be controlled by such a trivial thing.
Duke Sullivan replied, his voice as hoarse as ever, "I do not think so, Young Lady Maxine. I know so." His words vibrated around her, a reminder that she was trapped in this man's lair and would not be freed if she annoyed him.
However, what the young woman did right in front of him surprised him. No one had ever done such to him in his three hundred and three years of living.
Maxine, annoyed by the audacity of the condition that was written on the scroll, held it tight, and in a blink of an eye, she applied friction with her long, delicate fingers, tearing the scroll into two.
Then into four.
Eight.
And finally sixteen.
His copper-red eyes darkened at that moment due to the audacity of the young soul standing before him. To think he had credited her for being fiery, however, this was the peak of any other thing he could accept.
Damien, the dark-haired man with ink-black eyes who was standing a few meters away from them, immediately stiffened at the event that occurred right before his eyes. The next second, he took a step from where he was, his jaw clenched and claws erupted from his hands, eager to teach the young woman a lesson about respect. But Duke Sullivan stopped him in time with a single raised finger.
Maxine, whose eyes had caught the gesture, suddenly narrowed before a peal of laughter escaped her throat. Recalling that she still held the tattered scroll in her hands, she flicked it in front of the Duke and then said, "Duke Sullivan or whatever you claim to be, with all due respect, I think you are sick in the head, and unfortunately, I do not treat mentally deranged people." She paused before adding, "I do not think your physical appearance would make you an exception."
Initially, when her eyes were set on the scroll, Maxine was suddenly annoyed. The fact that she had to marry someone just because she was to heal him was something outright absurd. However, what annoyed her the most was when he finally put the price of her treatment.
If he became healed by her, he would give the Dukedom to her and retreat from being its leader. Even in the scroll, it was written that the Dukedom held more than fifteen million inhabitants. Was this man kidding with her? He was trying to use a fictional fact to sweep her off her feet.
She was tired and couldn't hold more of her anger alone. If this man was going to keep having fun with her, she must as well show him that she was no fun to be with in the first place.
Seeing Damien's gesture and how the man in front of her reprimanded him, she was forced to talk. Her eyes were mainly fixed on Damien. "What were you about doing? Hit me?" She shook her head before continuing, "Not even your great ancestors would dare, My Lord." Her voice was soft and sounded polite, as if she had not just belittled him with her words.
Her eyes left the man and dropped to the figure before her, she swallowed when she saw his eyes turn bloody red. A dark aura erupted from him and she felt a cold wind rush through from nowhere.
"You must have found it easy to tease, My Lady." He added, "You see, I credit you for that. But bad news for you, a bold, bold woman is not someone I like."
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