Isri's eyes narrowed. He never expected those words to come from Ceshir's mouth, those eyes looking at him with such allure.
Sessil's change caught him completely off guard. It was as if he had missed a century, as if just a moment ago Sessil was a child begging him to pick him up.
“Speak.” Sehir’s command was uncompromising.
Isri tightened his grip on the tray, unable to look away from Sehir's gaze, and could only grit his teeth and open his mouth.
"like."
As soon as those two words were uttered, Isri's ears turned red at a visible speed. Ceshir laughed triumphantly and moved his body closer to Isri.
Isri was truly taken aback by Cesil's actions and quickly took a step back, saying, "The soup is still cooking in the kitchen, young master, I'll be going now."
As he spoke, Isri lowered his head and stopped looking at Ceshir.
“Go ahead.” Sehir did not try to stop her.
As Isri closed the door, Sehir jumped off the table and sat back down on the stool, head down, looking at the documents on the table.
After the door closed, Cecil raised his head again, the smile on his face returning to calm. Looking at the cup beside him, his thoughts drifted back to Isri's expression earlier.
Ishri, don't even think about going back to the way things were.
Unlike Sehir, Isri was now like a cat on a hot tin roof, standing in the kitchen even more bewildered than before.
Every part of Cesil's body was constantly attracting him, which was already making him uncomfortable. Now that Cesil was actively provoking him, it was driving Isri's nerves to the brink of explosion.
The wind picked up outside, and it looked like it was about to rain. Islam pulled himself back to reality and started cleaning up the kitchen mess.
Perhaps he was too focused on his work, he didn't even notice when someone came in from outside until he looked up and met Cecil's gaze as he stood at the door.
"Don't boil milk next time, just make black tea," Cecil said, placing the cup on the table.
“Yes,” Islam replied, standing up.
Sehir glanced sideways at what was cooking in the pot, then turned and opened the cabinet above his head. Unfortunately, what he wanted was still on the second floor.
“Isri, take the jar on top,” Sehir said, stepping aside.
Isri put down what he was holding, walked to Ceshir's side, and reached out to feel around.
The butler's uniform, which already accentuated her figure, now perfectly outlined her side profile, making her slender waist seem as if it were made for this outfit.
Cecil's gaze lingered on it without any attempt to conceal it. Isri, feeling somewhat flustered under his stare, opened his mouth and asked, "Young master, which jar do you want?"
“The innermost one,” Cecil said without looking up.
Isri frowned slightly, and had no choice but to tiptoe slightly and carefully move the outer jar aside.
Sehir rested his hands on the stone platform, looking at Isri meaningfully. Half a second later, Sehir reached out and grabbed Isri's waist.
Islam was startled and lost his balance, knocking over the jar next to him. Islam reacted quickly and turned around to catch it.
But he was too nervous, and when he turned around, he bumped into Cecil.
With the jar right above Sehir's head, Isri didn't have time to react and instinctively pulled Sehir into his arms.
Chapter 131
The jar smashed right behind Cesil, the screech of glass filling the air. Isri held on tightly, and Cesil could barely breathe.
"I'm sorry, young master, I'll pack it up right away." Isri quickly said, preparing to let go of Ceshir.
But the next second, Ceshir raised his hand and grabbed Isri's tie, pulling him down abruptly. Isri stumbled and got even closer to Ceshir.
“Young…Master…” Isri stammered.
Sehir smiled again and reached out to touch Isri's waist once more: "Eat more, you're too thin."
His nose was only about a centimeter away from Ceshir's, and they could hear each other's breathing very clearly. Isri swallowed hard and stared at Ceshir with wide eyes.
“I…I understand, young master,” Isri replied in a low voice.
Sehir deliberately held his hand in this position for a while, until Isri, who was bent over, started to tremble slightly, before Sehir finally released his grip with satisfaction.
Isri squatted on the ground picking up the broken glass, but his thoughts were still on Cesil. This sudden change didn't excite him much.
More than anything, it felt like a form of revenge against himself.
Isri frowned slightly and looked up at Sehir sitting outside. The silence didn't last long before a long-absent knocking sound came from outside.
It's getting late, who has the time or inclination to come to such a remote place?
Isri put his things aside and, as he opened the door, glanced at Ceshir, who was propping his head up as if he were ready to receive a guest.
As soon as the door opened, Isri was taken aback. Right in front of him was the Queen's carriage, but there wasn't much of a entourage outside; it was just a single carriage.
"Greetings, Your Excellency. We've come to visit Cretis." The man was still wearing a brown suit, and still had a refined and courteous demeanor.
For a moment, Islam felt that he had been outdone.
Islam opened the door wide, and then the person in the car appeared. It was Bonal Irene, and she looked much better than before.
Upon seeing Isri, Bonar Irene smiled and said softly, "You're recovering quite quickly."
Islam paused for a moment, looking at the back of the person in front of him, someone he had never seen before.
"What brings Your Majesty here so late?" Cecil had already gotten off the stool and pulled out the chair for Bonal Irene.
“Come and see my Duke,” Bonal Irene said with a smile.
Before Cecil could even open her mouth, Bonal Irene burst out laughing: "How about that? Aren't I pretty good at copying my sister?"
It must be said that Sesil did feel a chill run down his spine just now, and could only manage a few forced smiles.
"How's it going?" Bonar Irene glanced at Isri standing behind Cesil and asked in a low voice.
Sesil was completely bewildered by the question and opened his mouth in confusion, "What?"
Bonar Irene, somewhat exasperated, straightened up: "My Bourne has many things he'd like to learn from your butler. Why don't we go and have a chat first?"
This was not a sign that he was being asked to leave. Isri bowed slightly, stepped aside from Cesil, and followed behind the man named Byrne.
"Alright, now speak." Seeing that no one was around, Bonal Irene spoke again.
"What progress?" Sehir asked, somewhat confused.
Bonal Irene sighed, then lifted her stool closer to Cecil: "How's it going between you and your butler?"
César was taken aback by the question, his pupils dilating involuntarily. He tentatively changed the subject: "He was just doing his job."
With a loud "bang!", Bonar Irene slammed her hand on the table, startling the two people standing at a distance. Even Isri frowned involuntarily.
Bonal Irene realized she had gotten a little agitated and quickly regained her composure, softening her voice.
"I've already said I won't interfere in your relationship with him."
Looking at Bonal Irene's expression, Sesil felt that if he didn't say something, she probably wouldn't leave today.
Sehir feigned shyness, lowering his head, but suddenly a wicked thought arose in his mind, and he glanced at Isri without thinking.
“It’s his inaction that’s causing this, there’s nothing I can do.” Sehir’s voice sounded somewhat aggrieved, like that of an abandoned child.
With a "bang!", Bonal Irene slammed her hand on the table again, startling Cecil this time.
"Inaction?" Bonal Irene's voice rose several decibels, her eyes wide as she stared at Cecil, all traces of her queenly demeanor vanishing.
Cecil's eyes twitched almost imperceptibly backward as he nodded, looking aggrieved.
Bonar Irene turned her head and glared fiercely at Isrith, then turned back to meet Cesil's gaze: "It's time to teach them a lesson, don't you think?"
"Whatever Your Majesty says goes."
With the original owner's permission, Bonar Irene reasserts her queenly authority, her gaze turning icy cold.
Compared to the original queen, Bonal Irene is the most unpredictable character. It would be best to go along with her, but in the current situation, going along with her feels pretty good.
"You!" Bonar Irene looked at Isri standing in the distance: "Come here!"
Upon receiving the order, Islam stepped between the two men and bowed in respect.
“As the steward of the Cretis family, you have failed in your duties. It is not excessive for me to punish you,” Bonar Irene said to Isri.
Isri lowered his head, and seeing that Cesil remained silent, he could only open his mouth and say, "It's not excessive."
Bonal Irene chuckled: "Alright, tonight you'll stand outside until the Duke gives you permission to go in, understand?"
"yes"
As Bonal Irene spoke, she glanced at Cecil, who smiled and responded.
“Let’s go, Bourne,” Bonal Irene called out.
"Your Majesty, please be careful." Sehir bowed and respectfully opened his mouth.
After Bonal Irene had walked away, Isri stood behind Cesil and spoke, "Young Master."
Cecil turned around and calmly opened his mouth: "Are you still going to disobey the Queen's orders?"
Islam lowered his head, his expression revealing disappointment: "I dare not."
As he spoke, he had already stepped down the steps and stood outside. At night, the wind on the mountain was indeed a bit cold; within minutes, people felt like they had been pulled out of a cold storage.
"Young Master," Isri called out to Ceshir, his voice slightly restrained, "What were you saying about me just now?"
Sehir stopped in his tracks, turned and walked to Isri’s side, his voice laced with provocation.
"They're talking badly about you."
Chapter 132
Isri opened his eyes slightly, but did not speak. He simply lowered his head and bowed.
"yes"
Sehir showed no mercy, turned around, closed the door, and went inside.
This scene seemed to overlap with one from long ago; in a room on the second floor, the familiar warm yellow light still shone.
The wind picked up, and it felt like blades were cutting into his skin. Islam turned to the side, raised his head, and looked up at the second floor.
That might be a little better, as long as it can make up for what happened before, even if only a little.
He didn't want Cecil to pretend nothing had happened, nor did he want Cecil to become like this; he just wanted the Cecil he knew.