I was captivated for a moment by the sight of Minerva's lovely smile. Taking a leap of faith, Cyril decided to ask.
"But, surely you find it unpleasant? To be touched by someone who looks exactly like the man who was your former fiancé—and who treated you so cruelly..."
Cyril had dressed as stylishly as possible today. He didn't want to meet Minerva looking like he was in loungewear; he wanted to look handsome in her eyes, even if it meant borrowing Alex's clothes. During his preparations, a maid had asked:
'Would you like me to trim your bangs?'
The sensibilities of his previous life resurfaced, and he no longer felt the urge to hide from everyone's sight or shut himself away as he once had. Therefore, these long bangs were nothing but a nuisance.
However, if Minerva showed even a hint of disgust because he shared the same face as Alex... the thought made Cyril shudder. For now, he decided against cutting them and simply had them pushed up.
(I thought I'd decide after seeing Minerva's reaction...)
But he was afraid to see that reaction. When he timidly looked at Minerva, she was staring back at him blankly with her large, sky-blue eyes.
"As I mentioned last night, Lord Cyril and Lord Alex are entirely different. Even if you touch me... I do not dislike it."
Since Cyril had been gazing intently at Minerva, he noticed immediately. She had been speaking normally at first, but her voice faltered on those last words. Furthermore, her face was flushing red.
(She said she doesn't dislike it if I touch her?)
He leaned in close to peer at Minerva's face.
"Is it really alright? To touch you?"
Startled by Cyril's sudden proximity, Minerva recoiled. Her foot caught on the sofa, and she began to tilt backward. Instinctively, Cyril caught her by the waist to keep her from falling. Though he supported her with one hand to avoid pinning her down completely, he was close enough to feel her breath.
"I'm sorry, I startled you," Cyril said, coming to his senses. He pulled away and helped Minerva up. He had been so desperate to suppress his own desires that he hadn't noticed Minerva's state.
Once standing, Minerva remained motionless. Her face was as red as could be, and tears were welling up in her eyes.
(D-did I make her cry!?)
Cyril felt as if he'd been struck in the head. While he stood there frozen, Minerva managed to squeeze out a few words.
"P-please... fasten your front..."
He didn't understand what she meant at first, and he cast a flustered glance at Linus. Linus, face pale, pointed toward the buttons of Cyril's shirt.
(It was the buttons after all!)
"M-my apologies. This is unsightly, isn't it?"
For some reason, Cyril felt a surge of embarrassment, and his own face began to flush.
Cyril looked at Minerva again to confirm, but she had already covered her face with both hands, striving not to look at him.
(S-she's that affected...)
Cyril apologized once more, feeling as if he were on the verge of tears himself.
"I am truly sorry. These belong to my brother, and since the size doesn't fit, I couldn't fasten the buttons."
Even though the shirt was open, it was only down to the second button. He felt irritated with himself for not considering it more important.
(Of course. She's a noble daughter. She probably doesn't even want to see a man's upper body.)
Just as he began to think he should probably just go home, Minerva lowered her hands and took a deep breath.
"No, it is I who should apologize for making such a scene. I was simply surprised; I am fine now."
As she spoke, she used her hands to fan her flushed face. Cyril couldn't help but think that even that gesture was adorable.
"Sara, could you bring some more tea?" Minerva called out to her lady-in-waiting.
Cyril's sinking mood suddenly lifted—he was allowed to stay!
"Linus," Cyril called. The pale-faced Linus promptly presented a box like a dutiful attendant. It was the cake they had bought earlier.
"I couldn't possibly come to apologize empty-handed, so I brought some cake. Is there anything here you like?"
Minerva's expression brightened at Cyril's words.
"Oh...! So many!"
(She loves sweets, huh.)
Cyril engraved that fact into his mind as he watched Minerva look at the cakes with sparkling eyes.
I'll have to bring cake every time we meet. Oh, wait—I did remove one. Cyril checked just in case.
"I don't have the peach cake, but will that be alright?"
A maid approached and began transferring the cakes to plates.
"The young lady is allergic to peaches. Did you know about that?"
Cyril's eyes widened slightly.
"No. That was a coincidence. I don't like peaches myself, so removing them was the right choice."
An involuntary smirk escaped his lips. Cyril, in a good mood, didn't notice, but several maids standing behind him let out small gasps.
The visit ended after they ate the cake and chatted for a while. Linus breathed a sigh of relief and spoke to Cyril in the carriage on the way back.
"Next time, please, let us be mindful of the prior notice and the buttons on your shirt."
"You're right. I can't be showing unsightly things to a young lady of that age."
Linus felt that Cyril's true intentions weren't quite reaching the mark, but he decided to leave the rest to Meriza.