Chapter 128: Who are you
Yuki froze, her mouth fell open. He could hear her thoughts. The man smiled as though her expression had confirmed everything he needed to know. His eyes were an unusual shade of purple, so clear and bright that they almost looked like crystals beneath the warm kitchen lights.
"Yes," he confirmed casually. "I can hear your thoughts." He spoke so casually, as though hearing people’s thoughts was the most natural thing.
Yuki stared at him. Before she could respond, he picked up a bowl and placed it in front of her. Yuki looked down.
Mangoes.
Her stomach tightened. Eloise’s favourite fruit.
"You should love these," the man said, his tone light and almost teasing.
Yuki’s head snapped up. "How do you know I like mangoes?" she asked.
The man’s hand paused. Something softened in his expression. For the first time, the amusement disappeared from his face.
"They were your mother’s favourite," he said quietly.
Yuki went still. The man looked down at the mangoes.
"She loved them so much she could never have enough when she was pregnant with you," he added.
Yuki’s heart stumbled. Her fingers trembled. Her mother. The woman she could barely remember. Yuki had spent so many years trying to piece together the fragments of a mother she had lost too young.
She couldn’t remember her face clearly. She couldn’t remember the sound of her voice. And now a complete stranger was standing in front of her, speaking about her as though he had known her personally. Yuki swallowed.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady. "How do you know my mother?"
The man pushed the bowl of mangoes slightly closer to her. "You should eat," he said, smoothly avoiding the question. "The pastries are almost ready."
Yuki stared at him. There was no way she was letting this go. There was a man in front of her who somehow reminded her of Aevia, knew her mother’s favourite fruit, and spoke about her mother with the familiarity of someone who had actually known her.
Yet he looked young, around the same age as the Ravencourt brothers, perhaps even younger. His demeanour, however, was entirely different from that of a young man. There was an ancient calmness in him. A quiet certainty that made Yuki feel as though she were the one being examined rather than the other way around.
Still, she didn’t press him again immediately. Her eyes dropped to the mangoes. She picked up a slice. The fruit was incredibly juicy and sweet. Yuki’s eyes stung unexpectedly. She hadn’t tasted mangoes this good before. A neatly folded handkerchief appeared beside her hand. Yuki blinked. She glanced towards the stranger. He had already returned to his pastries. She slowly picked up the handkerchief and wiped the moisture from the corner of her eye.
"At least tell me your name," she said, her voice quieter now.
The man’s hand froze. Only for a second. Then he continued decorating the pastry.
"I have many names," he replied calmly. "But I think my favourite is Yuki."
Yuki’s eyes widened. The man finally glanced at her.
"The one who called me Yuki fed me well," he added, a faint note of amusement returning to his voice.
Yuki stared at him.
"My name is Miyuki," she muttered.
"I know." He placed another perfectly decorated pastry onto the tray. "Your mother wasn’t very creative with names. She stole one of mine."
Yuki’s mouth parted. She stared at the man, utterly dumbfounded. Who was this person?
The stranger sighed as he picked up his fork again.
"Stop wracking your brains," he said. "Eat your fruit so you can leave."
Yuki’s hand froze halfway to the bowl.
"Leave?"
The man continued working as though he hadn’t just said something strange.
"You’ve been gone for a while," he replied.
Yuki slowly lowered the mango slice. Her confusion returned with full force.
"Where am I?" she demanded, her voice sharper now.
The man’s hand stopped again. Yuki leaned forward slightly.
"And how long have I been here?"
The question hung between them. He chewed his bite before he finally spoke.
"Far away from Ravencourt," he answered, and her stomach dropped. How did she get so far away from Ravencourt?
"How did I get here?" she asked. She could tell this stranger wasn’t particularly ready to share information with her. "Did you bring me here?" she added.
"I didn’t bring you here," he answered. "You came here yourself," he added, and she was taken aback.
"How did I come here when I was unconscious?" she argued. It made no sense.
A soft smile touched his lips.
"You are here exactly because you are unconscious, Miyuki Donovan," he answered, and she gasped. Her head snapped to the window, staring at the view that was too beautiful to be real, then back at this man standing before her.
Her brain settled on one answer. Her hand flew to her mouth as a sharp cry escaped her lips.
"Am I dead?" she whispered. That could be the only reason. She stared at the man who looked like Aevia and knew her dead mother.
"Are you my father’s ghost?" she asked, looking utterly horrified. She couldn’t believe she had died so young. She hadn’t experienced so many things. Who would have thought the girl they called a seductress would die before experiencing real sex and full penetration?
Her thoughts were all over the place, and Yuki... the male version... choked on his food. He quickly reached for a glass of juice.
Yuki’s thoughts froze. She stared at the choking man in confusion as he gulped down the juice.
He swallowed, then coughed once more before staring at her completely dumbfounded.
"Your biggest problem after thinking you died is that you’re technically a virgin...?" he gasped, and her eyes went wide as her cheeks burned furiously.
He could hear her thoughts.
"You are nothing like your mother, or at least the version I knew." His lips twitched, a disapproving look on his face. The type parents have when they see their children as the problem.