How to Escape from an Implacable Man

"So I don't remember you forcing me to do that!

"I'm just being hinted at like he's good. Wake up."

In the carriage I was bitten by the beautiful young man in front of me - I hate to admit it, but he's a crest boy.

"Mostly, I have a job, too. Please return."

"You mean that cafeteria? My husband explains the situation. He said he was looking for you."

What circumstances!

"I also asked my husband. At the beginning of his employment, he was also oblivious to general common sense and had a number of scratches on his arm that were cut with sharp blades. Odd, he must have been put under house arrest and made to provide blood like he did back then."

I was so scared of your chaser that I was stuck! I just couldn't say who I was in front of, and when I used blood, I cut myself! I'll argue with that.

"Haven't you solved the implication yet? Daimyo, I thought you were here running from that magician, but you're not?

How many times do I have to give you the same explanation, you little brat?

Even though I said that I was helping you research voluntarily, I don't even have the ears to ask.

"If you go back to the mansion and go back to your previous life, you'll be able to unbrainwash it. Now it's time to protect you. Marizia."

Being rocked in a carriage for half a day. Boy and I had a parallel line of discussion, and by the time we got to the familiar mansion, the sun was abundantly twilight.

"Welcome home, Master Crest"

I looked familiar to my black-crushed uncle, who had greeted me as I was dragged out of the carriage by force of resistance, prickly.

"Hal, you've got room support. Let Amalia take care of you."

"Yes, sir."

Gently hugging me resisting, Crest boy walks leisurely through the mansion.

"Put it down!

"Are you telling me you're going back to that magician? All you need is cure."

Really, this kid doesn't listen to people. Go!

Fucking muscle it for nothing! I wish I could at least use one of the exercised magic tricks!

"Right here. Remember that?

Boy finally let me down when he walked into a room upstairs.

When I was prompted to look around the room, my mouth almost caught on unexpectedly.

Remember, nothing. It's that room you've been in for four months. Carefully keep the embroidery tools intact.

"If there's anything missing, tell Amalia. I would be tired today. You should get some rest."

"Hey......!

The door was closed in front of me.

Immediately from the hallway, I can hear you talking to someone. It's a woman's voice.

"Excuse me. Dear Marizia,"

The maid, who looked familiar, had a tape measure in her hand for some reason.

"Sorry for your tiredness, but let me just measure the simple dimensions"

This is Amalia, the maid who used to take care of me. Should I apologize for borrowing your name on my own?

"Sorry for the inconvenience," said Amalia, letting me stand up and measuring the dimensions of Tekipaki and my arm hip-to-chest.

"Um, I'd like to ask..."

"I'm sorry, but the Lord has told me not to talk to you until Dear Marizia's brainwashing is completely solved. - Go ahead, get dressed before you go to bed."

Phew, you little brat. He really wants to make me a "brainwashed poor kid".

Sometimes I was tired on an unfamiliar carriage journey, and I gave up eating and put my sleeves through the dressing offered by Mr. Amalia.

And then dive into the futon of fuzz and think.

I wondered how the hell I could solve that boy's misunderstanding.

◇ ◆ ◇

It was sweet.

In the first place, there was no way that boy would listen to people.

I wonder if we've made progress in the last four years, and that hasn't happened at all.

Life since I was brought to the mansion was what I deserved to call 'house arrest'.

I was worried that I would try to get back to him myself, and I was always followed by two escorts. The two female swordsmen, Mr. Saara and Mr. Ermina, had a very business-like personality and were loyal to the orders of their employer, the boy. No matter how much I talked to him, he thoroughly pierced his attitude of not moving a single eyebrow.

The servants working at the residence also thoroughly avoided me, saying that I should not buy the disheartening of my young husband. Only Amalia, who was in charge of taking care of me, deals with me, but completely ignores the conversation! is.

(Master. Now I'm not going to keep it for four months)

Unlike then, I did not have the means to evacuate urgently when I was not under your protection.

We only get to talk at dinner seats, and besides, that opponent is also the one who directed this house arrest life. I don't have the ear to listen to your explanation, but in the end, I just end up being preached on the one hand about your bad words and how unfortunate my situation is.

Still, I did my best for three days.

But the third night I dived into the bunk, I was exhausted. You can't even leave the room except when you need to eat or something, and the eyes of the surveillance always shine, crushing the day with a few books allowed by the master of your mansion. My stress, which also covered embroidery tools in the name of needles being dangerous, was shaking my limits.

That's why, although I thought about deciding on Hanst on the fourth day, it was originally a life I only enjoyed about eating, and I couldn't even put up with that.

Instead, it is up to me to try not to take a slice with the boy who faces each other at dinner.

As usual, it's just me and him in the seat. By my side, Amalia refrains from serving, and next to him, Mr. Hurl is standing.

From earlier, many times he talks to me, but I ignore anything. I'm concentrating on my meal pretending I can't hear you.

It doesn't appear on your face, but you look very angry. I'm being used as a servant and escort to your mansion every day, you know.

Your hands are shaking from earlier on, Ms. Amalia, whether you're afraid of the nasty aura that rises from him. I guess it should be said that there is no way that Mr. Hurl, a standing closer to him, has moved.

I refused the tea after the meal and stood up.

Then he gets up, too. You were in a hurry, Gachan, and the tea apparatus nearly collapsed when you made a noise. I'm horrified to make sure Mr. Hurl held the cup at the edge of his sight.

From behind me leaving the dining room, I heard his footsteps.

I can see it's frustrating. The footsteps are about twice as loud as usual.

I grabbed the knob in the room that I had been given, and I disengaged.

"Marie, come on"

He grabbed his wrist with a strong force and was taken into his room as if it were a drag.

When I'm pushed into the center of the room by a rambling motion, I look up at him with an eye for blame.

It's unusual for him to have a faint expression from day to day, and being angry can be seen as clear.

Being a beautiful young man is a beautiful thing to be angry with, I think it stings. I'm going to apologize even though it's not bad if I accidentally do.

"What are you unhappy about?"

You say that! And I just wanted to get stuck. How can you say that by depriving people of their freedom?

It's still early to open your mouth. I want to scorch a little more and look for a gap to penetrate.

Don't you like me?

It's weirder to do all this and not hate it.

Instead of saying it, I get cursed in my heart.

"Marie"

His hand, approaching, strokes my cheek. I put up with wanting to escape and kept focusing on challenging his new green eyes.

"If you refuse me, I won't let you go"

The hand that was attached to my cheek slipped underneath...

"Huh!"

My vision stained bright red.

Painful.

He grabs me by the neck and blocks my breathing.

Marie, give me your voice.

He looks at me and whispers.

What do you mean, speak up, strangling! You can't!

I couldn't help but support where I heard my heart scream, my strangling hands loose, and I was about to collapse to be on the spot.

"Keho,... what, think, -"

"If you won't let me hear your voice, you won't need your throat, will you?

There were no lies in that voice.

I can't believe that's so scary.

I coughed while being supported by the perpetrator in front of me.

He scolds his head for lack of oxygen and manages to squeeze out the line of breaking the status quo.

"That's it, if you're gonna say..., you know what I mean? How hard it is to have a conversation."

Repeated cough, physiologically gushing tears transmit cheeks.

"Marie, did you do this for that? If you need anything, you told me to."

A blameworthy mouthful, but don't be ridiculous! And I want to yell.

How chesty it would be if I could beat him down for doing a totally grumpy aura somewhere.

"Now allow your escorts and servants to talk to me"

"Okay."

"And finally, permission to walk in the garden"

"Fine."

"And embroidery tools"

"I can't do that."

Apparently, needles (= blades) are still unacceptable to hold. Still, I got a lot of freedom.

"Okay. So I'm going back to my room."

I decided to throw him beyond my memory for the strangulation attempt earlier, and I greet him with a resignation.

"Marie"

But he wouldn't let me out of his arms.

"What is it?"

"When will you call my name?

The look on his face I looked up, unfortunately, could not be read.

"Marie?"

I didn't know you had noticed, but I didn't mean to call him by name. She said to Amalia, "What about her?" is enough.

Further mention, even four years ago, you must have never called me by name. Though I called you "Crest Boy" in my mind.

"Is that what it is?

Unwilling to respond honestly, I tilted my neck out of his arms to show it.

"... I see"

The next moment I thought I'd been whispered in a cold voice like an ice room, his lips crawled through my neck muscle. Though I reflexively push it away, I can't resist it.

"Of which"

When I was finally freed with those words, I ran out to my room to escape.

◇ ◆ ◇

From the following day I was informed that conversations with some servants, including Mr. Amalia, had been lifted. Unfortunately, the two escorts didn't get permission, though.

While I was happy to finally enjoy the conversation, the conversational topics were quite limited. In particular, everything involved in witchcraft is out.

Then he asked me all about him with the intent "I need to know the enemy first," and that night he was probably in a good mood when it was reported to him by a servant.

"If you want to know so much, you can ask directly"

Needless to say, I held onto that fork.