Chapter 11

It wasn’t a natural response. Such aristocratic manners were out of place in this village, but his smile somehow made it all seem natural. With a dash of admiration for nobility, the awkward moment turned into the romantic scene Mrs. Joren had dreamed of in her youth… so it was a lucky break.

“Oh my, then let’s do that. George, would you and Amber like to join us for dinner tonight?”

“It would be my pleasure. We’ll come at the right time, Ma’am.”

He folded his eyes so gracefully that Mrs. Joren didn’t even notice the shirt was just an old hand-me-down. Only Amber looked at him in disbelief.

As soon as Mrs. Joren left, Amber teased,

“You know how to use formal speech? You can be polite?”

“I was polite?”

George asked without any sign of annoyance.

“It’s totally different from how you talk to me. You always use informal speech with me…”

“Are you mad?”

“Just a bit surprised.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

George seemed to think for a moment, then smiled when their eyes met.

“But I did well, right? Didn’t I?”

“It was better than causing trouble.”

Amber wasn’t really upset.

His casual attitude suited him so well, whether it was because of his confidence or because he was a d*ldo, but either way, George’s informal speech felt natural and fitting for him.

The strange thing wasn’t just that. Even while eating with elegance, he would speak crudely only in front of her, and then, like earlier, show a noble side—it was all a mystery.

But Amber didn’t bother to dig into the reasons. She knew there’d be no answer even if she tried.

‘…More importantly.’

Amber looked George up and down. His pants were so short that half his calves were exposed, and his shirt and sleeves hung loosely, stretched out. Dirt made him look even shabbier, but Mrs. Joren hadn’t noticed at all.

How could she overlook such an outfit?

Amber muttered in disbelief, “I need to buy clothes.”

* * *

That evening, Gavin opened the door for them, dressed more sharply than usual.

“Welcome, Amber.”

His hair was neatly combed—one step behind the capital’s fashion, but his jacket was decent.

Of course, Amber’s attention went to George. He wore only a shirt, not even a jacket… but considering he almost had nothing to wear at all, she was grateful.

She glanced away from George, whose style lagged behind the trend, and asked Gavin,

“May we come in?”

“Of course! Come in. Oh, is this your cousin?”

Gavin stepped aside to let them pass, eyeing George. His mother had said he was elegant and handsome… but here he was, sticking close to Amber like a lover, and while he was pretty good-looking, his casual speech and slightly wild image stood out.

Getting hung up on such trivial details, Gavin missed the truly important things. He didn’t notice George’s outdated clothes, the slightly short sleeves, or the unfinished collar, mistaking it all for custom-made fashion.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Gavin Joren.”

“George.”

With George’s almost informal greeting, they were led inside. Amber whispered, watching Gavin’s cues,

“If it’s hard to answer, just pick up your water glass. Okay? I’ll handle it if you do.”

“It’s fine. No need to be nervous.”

Who was reassuring whom? Amber, following behind George, couldn’t hide her disbelief. What was he so confident about as a d*ldo? How did he know she was nervous?

‘Can he really handle this on his own?’

Amber bit her lip unconsciously. It was only her second time visiting Gavin’s house—the first time, Grandmother had come with her. Thanks to Grandmother’s cheerful presence, the atmosphere had been lively.

Now, she wasn’t shy and her gloom had faded… but the problem was, she no longer had her grandmother to take care of her, and Amber was terrible at lying. She’d prepared for some questions, but if something unexpected came up, she’d surely stumble.

Just then, Gavin’s father rose from the table and invited them,

“Please sit here, you two. I wonder if our food will suit your taste, George.”

“No need to worry.”

As Amber sat in the seat George pulled out for her, her eyes widened at the table. She’d spent a month in Napolia but had never seen such a feast. A large pot held seafood, vegetables, and tender octopus, with a tomato-based sauce. There was also grilled fish with potatoes and lemon, looking delicious.

Wasn’t this a bit much…? It felt as if the couple considered George a noble guest.

Sure enough, George was being overestimated.

“You must eat better food in the capital?”

As George tasted the food, Mrs. Joren asked quietly.

Amber felt the tension. She watched George, remembering to signal with the water glass if he was in trouble… now was that moment… The pressure to come up with a topic made her sweat, but her mind worked fast. If they asked about life in the capital, she’d say George rarely went out…

But George didn’t touch the water glass. Instead, he smiled and replied,

“I’m sure there’s great food there, but there are things you can only eat here, aren’t there?”

“Oh my.”

Mrs. Joren’s lips twitched at the polished compliment.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that. The couple asked questions, and George answered. Amber discovered George’s talent—he could give vague, harmless answers and change the subject skillfully.

In short:

‘A slippery con artist.’

When asked why he’d come, he said, “I was asked to come for Amber, but staying a bit longer for a break wouldn’t be bad,” and asked how to enjoy his holiday. When probed, he replied, “I met the right people and am doing what I like. If I get the chance, I’d like to learn various things here.”

Thanks to this, the couple seemed to think George was from a wealthy family. For them, it was more exciting than meeting a true noble; it might mean a chance to expand their business to the capital.

‘He’s just a slick con-artist d*ldo.’

Seeing the couple’s cheerful faces, Amber relaxed. Her stiff shoulders eased, her expression softened. She only felt dizzy a little later, a floating, hazy sensation.

‘How many glasses have I had?’

She’d sipped steadily, maybe because her nerves were actually from the alcohol, drinking whenever her throat felt dry. Was it four glasses…?

Unfortunately, Amber’s limit was four glasses. As she realized this, Mrs. Joren turned her attention to Amber.

“Amber, what brought you here?”

“She said she came after graduating from the academy, for a break.”

Even as Gavin answered, everyone focused on Amber.

It was because of her ex-fiancé. That was why she’d ended up in Napolia. Honest confession rose in Amber’s throat, but just then, a voice beside her pulled the conversation away.

“I haven’t been to the beach yet.”

“Still?”

George smoothly redirected their attention.

“It just happened that way. So, if you don’t mind, could you show us around sometime?”

“Oh, of course. We’d be happy to.”

As the awkward moment passed, Amber realized she’d almost made a mistake. Maybe she was the one who should have picked up the water glass… Getting help from a d*ldo, of all things.

As the meal ended, they prepared to go out. Mrs. Joren grabbed her shawl, Gavin and his father lit the lamp, and George moved close to Amber.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Praise me later. Not just ‘good job’ or ‘nice.’”

His meaningful words were at odds with the gentlemanly way he draped the shawl over her shoulders.

“Mmm.”

Alcohol made her slow to respond. Again, she missed the timing to answer, her cheeks flushed. But really, who would have thought a d*ldo would take care of her? Amber hesitated, then spoke behind his back,

“Thank you.”

She wanted to add more, but before she could, a hand suddenly reached between them. When Amber looked up, Gavin was there, holding out his hand.

“Let’s go together, Amber. I’ll escort you.”

“Oh…”

For a second, Amber almost blurted, ‘With you?’ and was surprised at herself. Gavin looked at her curiously.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you? You did drink quite a bit.”

“No, not really. I didn’t drink that much… Just, I’ll count on you.”

Amber smiled lightly and took Gavin’s hand, not even realizing she’d answered so carelessly. She also didn’t notice George’s smiling gaze following their joined hands.

Amber kept replaying what had happened. ‘With you?’ For a host to escort a guest was normal. Why had she almost asked that? Had she been picturing something else? Like Gavin’s parents leading the way, with her and George following behind.

…Her mind must have been dulled by alcohol. Amber shook her head.

“What? You say you didn’t drink much after all that?”

She didn’t care about Gavin’s misunderstanding that she’d drunk too much.