My Arrogant and Insolent Shadow - Chapter 24

Yurisiel had no choice but to pick up her spoon.

The moment she took a bite, her brow furrowed slightly.

She had assumed that, no matter how expensive or rare the food was, it would taste bland to her simply because she was eating in front of him. Even if it were lobster flown in from across the sea, she was sure it would have no flavor.

But to her surprise, her appetite stirred.

It was ridiculous.

With just one spoonful, she was already drawn in by the taste.

The soup was rich and savory, every bite full of comforting flavor. The bread was soft, full of fragrance, and delicious, even without butter or jam.

The fact that the soup and bread tasted this good left her stunned. Yurisiel lowered her head in disbelief.

“Why? Does it not taste good?” Cassian asked.

“No, it’s not that…” she replied quietly.

“If it’s not to your liking, just say so.”

At that moment, a servant entered the room with another dish. He looked tense, his eyes flicking nervously toward her.

Yurisiel could easily imagine what would happen if she said she didn’t like the food.

This young master was the kind of person who could cut someone off completely without a second thought.

She swallowed and responded calmly.

“No, it’s really good. Delicious, actually.”

She couldn’t afford to anger him.

Unlike when she first came to the mansion, that decision had grown much firmer inside her.

After that, Yurisiel quietly finished every dish served to her, all the way through dessert.

Cassian watched her the entire time. Only when she was done did he stand, seemingly satisfied.

It was only after he left the room that she let out the breath she had been holding.

At the same time, her stomach, tense from nerves, finally reacted and twisted in discomfort.

Yurisiel rushed outside and found a quiet place where no one could see her. There, she threw up everything she had eaten.

Only then did she feel a little more at ease.

Why had he insisted on sharing a meal?

There must be countless people in the mansion who would love to dine with him. It wouldn’t be difficult to find someone willing.

Then why her?

Was it his hobby to keep close the ones who didn’t want to be near him?

If so, should she just pretend and wait for him to get bored?

No, that would be dangerous too. If he lost interest, that might mean she was no longer useful to him.

She closed her eyes slowly. A cool breeze brushed against her face.

At last, her thoughts cleared.

When Yurisiel returned to her room, she found her mother sitting at a table with the same meal she had been served.

Her mother looked overwhelmed. She had barely touched her food and sat anxiously in front of it.

“How can I eat something this fancy?” she kept muttering. It was such a motherly thing to say.

Soon, servants arrived on schedule and began clearing the dishes, even though most of them were untouched.

In this house, that kind of treatment was normal.

Still, Yurisiel noticed the way the servants glanced at the plates as they took them away. Their eyes seemed cold, almost judgmental.

As if they were silently saying, “So now you’re picky about food too?”

No one said it aloud, so maybe she was imagining it. But the discomfort stayed with her.

She had never asked for this kind of treatment. It felt too much, too undeserved.

Seeing her mother enjoy the food brought her some happiness, but at the same time, a wave of fear rose inside her.

What if all of this disappeared overnight?

It was a contradiction, but the feeling was real.

Her mother, as always, remembered to thank the servants. Her voice was warm and sincere.

Even though the servants’ expressions remained cold.

Still, this place was the warmest and safest shelter they had ever known.

And it would likely remain so, at least for now.

She had to endure. No matter what.

When she thought back on the day, all she had done was share a meal.

But it wasn’t just any meal. It was a luxurious course that would leave anyone speechless.

No commoner from Alphonse’s lands would ever even dream of tasting such food in their lifetime.

If someone heard her thoughts now, they would probably call her ungrateful.

Everything, from the house, to her mother’s medicine, to their meals, even the clothes she wore, was given by that young master.

The more she relied on him, the more anxious she became.

One season passed in Alphonse.

The pink petals of spring had fallen, and the green leaves of early summer now colored the city.

The girl continued to live her days with a pale, fading expression. She read books, painted pictures, and ate her meals.

The more time we spent together, the more life returned to me, while she slowly faded into gray.

As if I was stealing away the warmth of her life.

The most unbelievable moment was when I met her birth mother.

Her mother was a stunning woman, beautiful enough to catch the eye even from a distance.

It was finally clear why that girl was so beautiful.

With platinum-blonde hair that flowed like silk and striking emerald eyes, it was easy to see where Yurisiel had inherited her features. Her mother’s face was so pale and flawless, it looked almost translucent.

“They say she’s called a foreign princess in the village,” Cassian recalled.

He had once thought that nickname was ridiculous, something only the country folk in Alphonse would say. But seeing Jane in person, he couldn’t help but agree.

As he looked at her, Cassian found Yurisiel’s image naturally overlapping in his mind.

Their features were nearly identical.

The only difference was that, unlike her delicate mother who looked like she might break with a single touch, Yurisiel carried a strong, defiant energy in her eyes.

Especially the contrast between her red hair and her mother’s platinum made that strength all the more striking.

Even the way they looked at him was completely different.

Jane, her birth mother, would occasionally approach him whenever they crossed paths in the corridor.

She would bow deeply, just like any commoner.

She never forgot to thank him either.

“I heard the young master has shown us special kindness. Truly, thank you,” she would say gently.

Her voice was soft and graceful, more elegant than one would expect from someone her age.

Even with her pale, sickly complexion, her behavior toward him was warm and respectful. It made her seem noble in a way.

Clearly, she had no idea.

To thank the person who had destroyed her home—how laughable.

In that sense, the gratitude she offered was meant for the lord of the house, yet Cassian was the one accepting it.

Did she tell her mother that I was the one who allowed them to stay here?

He doubted it.

He had seen the way Yurisiel’s face twisted in frustration every time her mother thanked him.

Of course, Cassian had no intention of correcting the misunderstanding.

Watching Yurisiel struggle silently, watching her lips tighten and her posture stiffen whenever her mother bowed to him, was far too amusing to give up.

Why would he ruin that?

Technically, he had allowed them to stay, so he felt entitled to the thanks anyway.

Each time he gave a slight nod in response, Yurisiel would bite her lower lip, bow hastily, and vanish with her mother.

And so, many days passed.

Recently, she had stopped bringing her mother with her whenever she saw him.

Her mother used to walk the halls with her, always nearby, always within reach. Now, even that had stopped. She didn’t appear much at all.

It was as if she was trying to minimize contact with him.

How ridiculous.

She was just a servant, and yet she acted like she could pick and choose when to see him.

His precious little servant had quite the skill for politely expressing how much she didn’t want to be around him.

What had she said yesterday?

Something about being afraid that her presence would make him uncomfortable?

What a pathetic excuse.

Still, he had to admit, she played her part well.

Ever since she took her mother’s medicine from his hand, Yurisiel had no choice but to act this way.

Even if she hated him deep down, at the very least, in front of him, she had to wear a mask.

No more eyes filled with resentment asking, “How could you do this?”

Now, she had to look at him with gratitude instead.

Cassian had thought that would satisfy him.

So why was he still like this?

What more did he want to see?

It felt like he was preparing to drag Yurisiel back himself. With that thought, Cassian slowly stood and began walking.

Behind him, the butler followed anxiously, trying to stop him, but Cassian waved him off with a single gesture.

The servants hovered nervously, unsure what to do as he walked past them and out of the mansion.

He was going farther than his doctor had approved, but he didn’t care.

A dying man had nothing to fear.

Even standing in a spot that would normally leave him breathless, Cassian found himself smiling.

Where is she hiding this time?

She was always running, like she wanted to play hide and seek with him. He wondered what kind of face she would make when she saw him now.

The thought was both amusing and infuriating.

As he walked through the garden, the purple buds she had admired last time had bloomed. They turned toward him, as if asking to be picked.

Cassian plucked one and twirled it between his fingers.

Then, in the next moment, he saw her.

Yurisiel.

Startled, his hand crushed the flower. Its petals crumpled and burst, staining his palm with vivid violet, like spilled paint. Or blood.

He didn’t move.

First, he saw Yurisiel.

Then, in the wavering red of his vision, he saw silver hair.

So, all this time, while she was hiding away from him, she had been secretly meeting that man—in his mansion, no less.

The moment the words “silver hair” formed in his mind, he remembered how Yurisiel had trembled when he brought it up before.

Like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

If it was that important to her, she should have been more careful.

She looked completely calm now, nothing like when she was in front of him.

Even if the smile on her face had faded a bit since before, it was still nothing like the stiff, lifeless mask she wore when she faced him.

The same girl who had once been dragged before him because she couldn’t find her mother’s medicine now stood there so casually.

Had she no shame?

A smirk twisted across Cassian’s lips.

Just then, the silver-haired man turned and locked eyes with him, his expression slowly changing in recognition.

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