It was always cool and calm, but now, it seemed flames were flickering deep within.

“Are you alright?”

“…Ah! Senior.”

The owner of that gaze was Lucas.

Giselle belatedly gathered her wits at the sound of his voice and turned her head.

The Count, his face contorted, was trying to swing his cane at Lucas.

“Senior, it’s dangerous!”

She cried out, grabbing his arm and pulling him.

Her mind had gone completely blank, and all she could do was desperately tug at his arm.

* * *

She had anticipated a dull, ominous sound announcing a terrible tragedy.

But Giselle, her eyes tightly shut, heard no sound at all.

No, there was a faint groan, a pitiful sound.

…But it was too meek to have come from Lucas.

Giselle slowly opened her eyes, still gripping his sleeve.

The fabric was crumpled and disheveled.

His chest was rising and falling slightly as he caught his breath.

She trembled as she looked up.

First, she saw his sharp jawline. Unusually, his hair was disheveled.

But…

‘…He’s not hurt.’

Realizing this, Giselle’s legs suddenly gave way, and she started to sway. Lucas glanced down at her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Senior!”

“Stay still, Anticia. Don’t just collapse on this dirty floor.”

As Giselle struggled in his embrace, Lucas pulled her closer and spoke in a soft voice, as if nothing had happened.

As if holding a woman’s waist was nothing out of the ordinary.

Giselle felt somehow ashamed of her own flustered reaction, so she clamped her mouth shut.

“Ugh… won’t you let go of me?”

At that moment, Count Maurice’s voice was heard.

‘Wait, what happened?’

Giselle looked over at the Count, remembering how he had tried to swing his cane at Lucas just moments ago.

The Count’s face was changing color, cycling through a range of hues. In contrast, Lucas’ expression remained remarkably calm as he looked at the Count.

“Let, let go of me…”

Turning her head, Giselle’s eyes widened at what she saw.

Lucas was effortlessly restraining the Count, who was wielding the cane.

Compared to the Count’s beet-red, fuming face, Lucas’ demeanor was strikingly composed.

‘Even if the other person is an old man, to subdue him so easily…’

Curious, Giselle looked up at Lucas. She had never imagined he would be this strong.

He was tall and handsome, but not a burly, muscular man. And even during his academy days, she had never seen him fight or show off his strength.

‘He doesn’t really strike me as the type of man who would do that.’

As she muttered to herself, the Count, having struggled helplessly, finally raised his voice again.

“Do you not know who I am? I am—”

“Count Maurice.”

“That’s right! I am the esteemed Count Maurice! How dare you threaten me like this…”

“But first, you were pestering my fiancée.”

“What, what did you say? Fiancée?”

Deeper creases formed on the Count’s wrinkled brow. He whipped his head around to glare at Giselle.

It was a demanding look, questioning this claim, but she had no mental capacity to focus on his gaze.

Her mind had gone completely blank at the word ‘fiancée’ that had come from Lucas’ lips.

“Senior?”

“It’s alright, Anticia. You can relax now.”

Lucas calmly addressed the bewildered Giselle, not forgetting to tighten his hold around her waist.

No, wait.

If only the Count weren’t here, she would have immediately asked him.

…When did we become engaged?

* * *

“This, this is a fraud! A blatant fraud!”

Count Maurice, enraged by the ‘fiancée’ claim, turned pale with shock and fled the office, though not before hurling accusations of fraud at Giselle.

Of course, in the midst of it, he continued to point his finger at her and shout loudly that she had committed fraud.

But thinking about it, it was fortunate that he only resorted to finger-pointing and shouting.

Just recalling how he had been treating her before Lucas arrived was enough to realize that.

It must have been the ‘Lucas Taylor’ effect.

“…Your name is quite impressive, Senior.”

Giselle quietly looked around the suddenly silent office, then suddenly spoke up. But no response came from Lucas.

Puzzled by his silence, she turned her head to look at him.

“Senior?”

Lucas’s tightly shut lips conveyed an unsettling atmosphere.

The Count had already left, but somehow, he seemed even more coldly withdrawn than when the Count was present.

“…Senior Taylor?”

Feeling her mouth go dry, she involuntarily swallowed before carefully calling out to him again. At her address, Lucas let out a sigh and looked back at her.

“Are you perhaps angry?”

“…”

Lucas did not respond to her question. But it was clear he was forcibly restraining his anger.

It would be natural for him to be angry. An outsider had barged into the office uninvited, after all.

And as the one in charge of accounting and auditing, he would be especially sensitive to such issues.

“I’m sorry. I never imagined Count Maurice would come all the way here… I’m truly sorry, President.”

She quickly bowed her head apologetically towards him, her body bent at nearly a right angle, causing her pink hair to become disheveled.

Seeing her tousled hair, Lucas furrowed his brow and let out a long sigh. Giselle’s body flinched reflexively.

Realizing the color still hadn’t returned to her small face, he clicked his tongue and ran his hand through his own hair.

“It’s fine, Anticia. I don’t expect an apology from you.”

“But Senior, or rather, President, it was because of me that an outsider barged in…”

“And you should pick one form of address to use.”

As Giselle tried to apologize again, Lucas changed the subject.

‘In the midst of this, what’s with the sudden talk about titles?’

Puzzled by the abrupt shift, she obediently responded to his suggestion.

“Yes, understood. President.”

“No, I didn’t mean for you to call me President… Anticia, surely you won’t keep calling me ‘Senior’ even after we’re married?”

Lucas let out a hollow laugh at her response, asking in a bewildered tone.

“Huh? Ah…”

Giselle blinked a few times, then quickly realized her mistake. Her face flushed red.

She hurriedly fanned herself with her hand, then belatedly nodded with an awkward expression.

“…That’s true, Senior.”

It was not the first time she had called him ‘Senior,’ nor was there anything strange about the term, but for some reason, her face felt hot and she felt self-conscious.

Well, how should she put it?

It was as if she had suddenly become acutely aware of the significant change about to occur in her relationship with the man before her.

That must have been the reason she had been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep.

And why she had felt irrationally irritated and hurt towards the seemingly unperturbed man.

“Hmm… But, Senior.”

Hesitating for a moment, Giselle called out to Lucas, who looked at her expectantly, prompting her to continue. She shyly averted her gaze as she posed her question.

“Are we really getting married?”

“Did your mind change overnight?”

“No, it’s not that but…”

“…?”

As she hesitated and faltered, his eyes narrowed, and she mustered the courage to speak again.

“I… I think it would be better if we reconsidered this.”

“What?”

Taken aback by her sudden words, Lucas’ expression hardened. Giselle shrunk her neck, murmuring softly under his sharp gaze.

“I think that would be best.”

“And what exactly made you change your mind? Don’t tell me that old man who just left has somehow become appealing to you?”

Lucas inadvertently retorted with a hint of bitterness, as the unsavory mental image he had harbored before proposing to her resurfaced.

The image of the elderly Count panting and writhing atop Giselle’s body — it was enough to make him sick.

That was what had prompted him to propose marriage in the first place.

“Are you insane? How can you say such nonsensical things?”

Giselle exclaimed, raising her voice in shock at his words. Lucas fell silent under her glaring gaze.

“Apologize, Senior.”

“…I’m sorry. That wasn’t something I truly meant.”

He swallowed a sigh and apologized sincerely. It was Giselle who felt flustered at his compliant response.

“Huh, you’re actually apologizing right away?”

“I was in the wrong.”

It was unlike him to become so agitated, and even if he did, it was uncharacteristic of him to make such offensive remarks to the other person.

“I’m sorry, Anticia. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

“…Well, I’m not the type to be resentful anyway.”

Giselle looked at him with a slightly bewildered expression, then rubbed her cheek.

The heat was still lingering, perhaps radiating from her hand as well.

After wiping her cheek and lightly patting her skirt, she once again met his gaze with a serious expression.

“But what I said was sincere, Senior. Let’s reconsider this marriage.”

“And what’s the reason?”

Lucas suppressed the anger welling up within him once more and asked her. Giselle hesitated, then lowered her head as she replied.

“My father… has taken on more debt.”

It was a simple sentence, but her breath was unsteady, and her voice trembled as she spoke.

Lucas narrowed his eyes as he looked at her.