About Your Pride and My Prejudice

Chapter 34: Im Close Enough To Reach You

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Melissa!

Mrs. Kerney knocked the door brightly. My upper body, which was lying flat enough to almost hit my nose on the desk, lifted up reflexively.

Was I buried in the smell of ink too much? I suddenly felt dizzy.

The letter youve been waiting for.

What Madam handed me with her playful gesture was an envelope with the Leopold seal clearly stamped on it. I took it and stiffened. freewebnove(l)

I took it out before Mrs. Collins would open it up.

Madam smiled humorously and beckoned me to turn the envelope upside down.

Tobias Miller

Ah!

Finally!

I couldnt hold back the laughter that leaked out. It was very awkward to have his name and Leopolds seal together, but I will soon get used to it.

I hurriedly opened the letter knowing that Madam was next to me. Mrs. Kerney, who looked down at me as if it was unfamiliar, quietly left the room.

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More than a month has already passed since the date on the letter, and seeing that the appreciation of the Principality was written as if he had just arrived, this is the first letter. Contrary to my worries, it is fortunate that it was not lost and came into my hands, but the content was simpler than expected.

For example, like Lunoa, which boasts a mild climate, is cool in the middle of winter, or complaining that there are many things to dosuch as making sure the office and furniture were cleanbecause he came early before the launch of the new business. Other than that, there was a brief description of colleagues selected together.

Nevertheless, I laughed automatically because the letter he wrote seemed to be filled with expectations for the upcoming work.

The letter ended with the words that he would look forward to the day I come there and said hello to Collins and the people.

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For some reason, a corner of my chest felt cold, so I blinked my eyes vaguely. It was because I suddenly realized that he left Sorne.

It was a fact I already knew, but its a new thing.

Nothing changed even if I muttered to myself. I was somehow helpless by the loneliness that rushed in, as if I was about to be swallowed up by it. Is it more so because Viola left Florin?

Come to think of it, I now have no one to accompany, or no one to even go to the coffee shop with, or for the coming social season. In other words, I became a perfect loner.

But the loneliness that comes from it is actually only superficial. Whats important is that both Tobias and Viola have taken a big step toward their respective life directions.

So, what really bothers me is the present reality of being alone and standing still, unable to take a single step from where I am.

And it was very clear that the only way to quench this thirst was to win Lunoa Study Abroad with my novel.

Wouldnt it be great if I could write as much as you want in Lunoa, the land of great writers? I want to complete my work there. Never in my life have I felt such a strong desire.

Of course, this longing does not stem from Tobias, who is waiting for me to come. Its a pleasure for him to go to the Principality, but even if he hadnt been selected, I would have followed my dream and started studying abroad without hesitation.

Its only his choice whether to wait for me or find someone else.

I grabbed the pen again.

The problem is that I put down the pen again shortly.

Can this even be called love..

Troy knew the heart of the heroine who had long admired him. One day, he also began to watch her with an interesting gaze, even saving her life from falling in the snow.

However, is Troys emotion love?

In fact, it was difficult for even me as a writer to be sure of this part easily. This was because he was a difficult person to accompany.

Ive been rolling my pen all the way here, but its a dead end again.

Of course, when writing, there is no end to facing difficulties. In this case, I often feel trapped in a keyless cell. If theres a person who looks like him in reality, I might get a hint, but.

There is a person he resembles.

Of course, its not that theres no one who looks like Troy. But he has a peerless existence. To me, he is also unrealistic.

I ended up closing the notebook because I didnt know what to call this emotion.

At this rate, March will come soon.

I was heartbroken that I hadnt written more of my story as I wanted. Theres no way Ill be able to fully rest until Im done writing.

At times like this, I am deeply worried about what will happen after I have achieved my dream of becoming a writer. Will I be able to be a writer for the rest of my life? Although it is a vain thought about a dream that has not yet come true.

Given that it is impossible to produce a work that will satisfy you completely for the rest of your life, being a writer may be a very lonely and sad job.

Something you love enough to give your life, but you cant have it completely. To have to follow only such a fictitious fantasy all the time.

After all, its love.

Nevertheless, it cant be helped. The comfort and love I get from novels rather than people feel much bigger and greater to me.

When I let out a slow sigh and pressed my right cheek on the old leather cover, a cold feeling stuck. My head became complicated and busy. Its painful.

But just a few days after that, I realized.

How splendid luxury it was to talk about pain in the agony of love.

* * *

It was a dead end again.

I came down to the first floor and was playing the piano blankly. It was because Troys feelings could not be resolved, so even though I wrote the story while leaving the lines empty, it was frustrating as if something was blocked.

My piano skills have stopped at the level I learned from a tutor when I was young. Of course, its not at a very great level. There are only a few songs I can play. Nevertheless, I really like the unique honest and simple fact of pressing a key to make a sound.

Sometimes when you do something that has nothing to do with writing a novel, something shiny comes to mind. Hoping for such a small aberration, I was already pressing the old keyboard for almost an hour.

At that time, someone knocked on the door outside. Surprised, I put down the keyboard cover.

It was early evening, but my mother, who had been sleeping a lot, had not yet woken up from a nap, Mrs. Kerney went to the market, and Julia I dont know where she went, but she was gone. Well, kids of that age are full of energy.

So, Im in a situation where I have to receive this unknown visitor.

Bang, Bang. At that moment, I heard another banging sound outside. It was clearly urgent.

C-coming!

As I reluctantly walked, I couldnt shake the feeling that something was odd. Because the person standing outside the door was not saying anything.

Just like Mr. Greg, who comes to deliver meat, people who come to the house with a business purpose usually knock on the door and hear his voice. Calling someone in the house, or identifying themselves.

Who

I carefully loosened the old brass bar. Then, along with the cold winter wind, a mysterious visitor filled my sight.

The person standing at the door was a tall man in a black coat. But I couldnt even ask him a natural question about who you were and what you came for.

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A black, tall bowler hat and a pure white mask that covers the entire face, what...

The extraordinary and suspicious-looking man, who looked like a magician or a participant in a masquerade, was so strange that it caused the illusion that what I was seeing now might be in vain.

But somehow I couldnt take my eyes off him. Am I dreaming?

While I was frozen with my lips open, the man put his hand inside the coat as if looking for something. And when his hand was pulled out again, a faint scent came from the mans arms. Even in the strong wind, it is subtle and clear.

The moment I inhaled that sweet misty scent, I was momentarily dazed. It was because I couldnt pinpoint the scent, but it felt strangely familiar.

Is it just me?

At that moment, long fingers wrapped in black leather gloves held out a white envelope.

While being momentarily dazed, I received it and looked at his eyes with a puzzled face. Meanwhile, the man was also silently looking down at me.

His eyes could not be seen well because the bowler hats elegant brim created a dark shade over the mask. But

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It was a fleeting moment, but it was a similar light pale blue that made one shiver.

Gasp..!

I was so surprised that I quickly came inside the house. When I hurriedly closed the door and hung a latch like a person who had committed a crime, my breathless heart pounded, my chest rising and falling fast. The gate behind my back was icy cold.

It definitely looked like Troys eyes.

People with such eye color are not common at all. Am I at the point where I am starting to see things that I want to see now? Side effects of being too preoccupied with Troy in the novel?

Of course, I actually know someone with eyes like that. From whom I borrowed Troys appearance...

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At that moment, the envelope I was holding tightly in my hand crumpled and made a rustling sound. It was because I put strength in my hands without realizing it.

That small sound and touch saved me from my daze.

W, no, wait.

I fumbled helplessly near my heart, which began to beat hard. The man didnt seem real at all. Tall, covering his face, sending out a letter silently Unidentified.

Maybe I met.

Maybe I met the stalker? Is he finally going to show himself?

Because.. I ignored your request?

Suddenly, my mind went blank. In alarm, my ears began to ring.

Dangerous. Something really dangerous might happen. The inside of the door with a tight latch will be safer than anywhere else for now.

Even though I thought like that, I opened the door. It was an act that skipped rational judgment without having time to listen to the orders of consciousness.

Ah

But the man had already disappeared. Only the cold wind like a blade gently scratches my hot cheeks.

Closing the door with trembling hands, I slid down silently and opened the envelope with nothing written on it.

There was a small piece of paper in it. A piece of gold-rimmed paper that seems to have been torn from a notebook.

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And when I encounter that strange and familiar handwriting. My ominous premonition did not go wrong,

Then, the nobleman who bought the mansion across the street.

The frightening man really was the stalker.

This is absurd...

I was sure without difficulty.

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