Just as the brushing he had envisioned began to take shape, his expression lightened. And at the moment he thought optimistically that at this rate, he could finish brushing soon—

Suddenly, Agate’s face, which he had no reason to see while brushing her hair, appeared directly in front of him. Abruptly turning around, Agate, who had merely tolerated him until now, once again delivered a stinging slap to his hand.

Tap

With this unavoidable blow, Sion nearly severed his thread of reason himself. Like the napkin, the brush rolled neatly onto the floor. Unlike the napkin, it made quite a loud noise, adding gravity to the situation.

An indescribable silence engulfed the bedroom. Having been hit in the same spot twice in succession, Sion didn’t offer insincere apologies despite his tingling hand.

He finally understood. Kanna’s joy about the young lady enjoying her bath today, her failure at brushing—this explained why her hair looked like a dog’s every day.

The lady absolutely detested anyone touching her body.

Having achieved her goal, Agate turned her back again without batting an eye, despite being the instigator of this commotion.

Sion glared at her hatefully innocent back, suppressing the rising flames of anger.

Beyond the pain, how was he supposed to handle these infuriating slaps? That annoying hand that struck and disappeared like a swallow. Considering his feelings alone, it might have been better to receive a satisfying punch instead.

He made a firm resolution. On the day he left this villa, he would surely take revenge on this lady for her mischievous, cute antics.

And he changed his plan as well.

‘Did I say I would seduce this woman?’

The silence didn’t last long. Sion picked up the overturned brush from the floor and gently placed it on the bedside table.

“So you dislike having your hair brushed. I didn’t realize, Miss.”

Seduction be damned. Sion slowly approached Agate, who still wouldn’t look at him.

Then, matching her eye level, he whispered sweetly into her ear.

“We’ll need another method to make you look neat.”

After finishing his whisper, Sion’s hand once again delved into her hair. Based on previous experience, Agate’s reaction was even quicker.

‘I will tame this woman.’

Her hand, rising in a semicircular arc, was pathetically thwarted by the man’s grip. Holding her wrist firmly but immobilizing it completely, Sion captured her gaze within her clouded eyes.

In this second eye contact with her, unlike before, he met Agate with a relaxed eye-smile.

‘And I’ll fix that d*mn temper too.’

Sion’s eyes blazed with firm determination.

* * *

“Oh… this is…!”

“Hahaha… the young lady rejected my touch as well.”

While Kanna, returning from helping gardener Gilbert, marveled at the unprecedented change, Sion laughed lightly.

He had wanted to cut that eyesore of a broom-like hair with scissors, turning it into a stubby brush, but restrained himself because she was a lady. There were limits to what Sion could do when dealing with the supreme lady who was indulged no matter what ill-mannered things she did.

“Hmm… but if the young lady refuses brushing, tying it up like this looks much neater than leaving it loose… or rather, just leaving it as is! Until now, I’ve tried to brush it somehow, but when it proved impossible, I reluctantly gave up.”

Kanna gave Sion a thumbs-up and didn’t spare her praise, as if consoling his apparent disappointment.

Agate’s previously loose hair was now tied in a single ponytail, just as Kanna described. The dry hair that had stuck out in all directions when loose was now somewhat tamed under the restraint of a red ribbon, softening her previously wild-colt appearance.

‘That lady… she’s much more stubborn than she looks.’

Kanna would never know how much effort it took just to tie her hair in a ponytail, or how fierce a battle had raged between him and her in this room moments ago.

One trying to tie, one resisting being tied. Unlike brushing, Sion could tie knots with his eyes closed. He demonstrated his prowess by immobilizing the back of Agate’s neck with just three fingers while using his other hand and two remaining fingers to tie her hair.

Only he, with hands large enough to cover a face, could make her look somewhat more human. Throughout the hair-tying process, Agate had twitched her head, and Sion himself wondered if her expression had been less vacant during that time.

‘If I had tied her hair in front of a mirror, I might have seen an interesting expression.’

Fortunately, after he tied her hair, Agate didn’t bother to undo it or engage in futile resistance. Thus, their first battle of nerves seemed to conclude with his victory.

Though there had been friction during the process, the lady might secretly be satisfied with the grand outcome. As Agate resumed staring out the window with her world-lost expression, Sion decided to think positively.

* * *

The lady’s new hairstyle continued to receive praise afterward.

“My, tying your hair like this makes you look much neater!”

From head maid Molly.

“Hmm, you did this, Daniel? If the young lady doesn’t mind, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

From the old-fashioned butler Adollo.

“The young lady’s hairstyle has changed!”

“She must be in a better mood than usual today!”

The servants, who had always tiptoed around Agate at her depressive nadir, each added a comment, thinking her tied hair signified some change in her mental state.

Not knowing it was Sion’s unilateral action. Agate even received the misunderstanding that her severe depression was showing signs of improvement because of it.

Several more days passed. Despite Sion’s novel attempt, Agate quickly returned to her dry, loose hair.

This was because she had unusually jumped up to refuse when Kanna tried to touch her hair, after which Adollo issued a ban to all servants against approaching the young lady’s hair.

Though Sion was largely responsible for this, only he, Agate, and Adollo knew the full story. Since Agate didn’t speak, this would remain an eternally unrevealed secret.

Moreover, he didn’t care about Agate’s hairstyle at all—whether she returned to looking like a golden poodle or a retriever was none of his concern.

Sion’s sole purpose was to capture Agate’s attention, and he stayed by her side much more than before, constantly watching for opportunities.

“Miss, the weather is lovely today. Shall we take a walk?”

After their first battle of nerves, contrary to Sion’s determination to completely tame her, Agate became strangely docile. Whether their intentions happened to align or not, she moved slowly and compliantly to Sion’s touch and suggestions.

Of course, while maintaining her attitude of treating him like a completely invisible person.

This maddening coldness that could drive a person insane left Sion feeling desperately frustrated. He deeply regretted not having her resist again instead.

To build rapport, there needed to be “interaction”—whether through words, actions, or at least exchanged glances—but Agate refused this interaction not only with Sion but with everyone else.

With each passing day, Sion increasingly got the impression that she wasn’t just a young lady but a queen locked in an impregnable fortress. A greater sense of emptiness consumed him than when he realized there was nothing worth stealing in her villa.

Then came one day amid these monotonous, repetitive days, more tedious than a hamster wheel.

“Miss, here are raspberry macarons. The chef claims they’re his masterpiece among all the macarons he’s made so far.”

Half-resigned, Sion decided to use his trump card, taking advantage of another opportunity to be alone with her. With all his schemes consistently failing, he needed to return to a direct approach.

He presented a raspberry macaron with filling spread between crimson shells colored with raspberry juice. Normally he would have stepped back immediately, but this time was different.

“I hope it suits your taste.”

Removing his glasses and placing them in his jacket pocket, Sion deliberately matched her eye level and spoke softly, revealing his bare face.

Without his glasses, he wasn’t merely handsome—anyone could see at a glance that this man had monopolized the Creator’s favoritism.

But,

“……”

Truly, it was a response that made one embarrassed. All he received was a complete non-response. Agate ignored the sculpture-like face right in front of her and stared dryly at the plate before her.

If only she would spare him even a moment of her gaze.