Chapter 23 (1/2)
“I can’t believe you’re so happy about this. It’s amazing.”
Elisabeth blew the grass flute regardless of the ‘Ppoo-ppoo’ sound.
“What are you doing?”
Two people turned their heads. Dylan stood in the distance with a disapproving look.
“Look at this guy? You hid when I asked you to come out and play and you’re here because of Elisabeth?”
“It’s not like that, so don’t talk nonsense.”
“That’s right. That’s really nonsense.”
Elisabeth took Dylan’s answer seriously.
‘Dylan can’t be here because of me. He’s here because his friend is here.’
Jeremy looked alternately at Elisabeth and Dylan and laughed with a ‘Pft’.
“Dylan, play with her.”
“Why should I?”
“You don’t know how to play too.”
“Elisabeth. He’s talking nonsense again.”
Elisabeth shook her head resolutely.
“No. Play with Elisabeth.”
“Ha.”
Dylan sounded dumbfounded. Jeremy didn’t put up with it this time and laughed ‘Puhaha’.
***
‘Ppoo-Ppoo-oo-‘
One could hear the sound of the grass flute all day long in the garden of the mansion. After Jeremy had gone back, Elisabeth continued to sing the grass flute he had made for her.
When she came to meet Victoire and Damon, who had returned home, she was with the grass flute.
“What’s that, Elisabeth?”
Damon asked, not missing the grass flute in Elisabeth’s hand.
‘I thought you’d recognize it Damon.’
Rejoicing at Damon’s meticulousness, Elisabeth held the flute high as she boasted.
“It’s a flute made by Jeremy oppa.”
Dylan’s expression suddenly rotted. It was Dylan who has been waiting for a change of heart for some time.
‘Look at that? Are you jealous that Elisabeth called Jeremy oppa?’
Damon sensed Dylan’s change and swallowed a laugh.
“Give it a try.”
Said Victoire with curious eyes. Elisabeth blew the grass flute like she had been waiting for this chance.
‘Ppoo-ppoo-oo’
“What a god-given, beautiful performance…”
“So noisy.”
Victoire was speechless. Damon looked at Dylan with a shocked face. Elisabeth looked at Dylan in surprise, too.
‘Why is he so mean? Are you jealous?’
Elisabeth turned to eye the empty-handed Dylan.
‘Cause you’re the only one who doesn’t have a grass flute?’
It was a reasonable deduction.
“That jerk Jeremy, he’ll never come again.”
Dylan’s inability to hide his displeasure to the end further supported the speculation.
***
Elisabeth, who just had dinner, came out to the garden with Marian, holding a lantern. Then, they collected the fresh-looking leaves of grass.
“What are you going to do with this?”
“I’m going to make a full flute and give it to Dylan. Dylan was jealous of my grass flute earlier.”
“Jealousy? Young master Dylan? Grass flute?”
Marian asked back as if she could not believe it. She couldn’t believe Dylan was jealous, nor could she even believe that the reason for jealousy was the grass flute.
Elisabeth nodded with conviction.
“Isn’t that really childish?”
Elisabeth shook her head.
“I think Jeremy did this earlier.”
Elisabeth made a pretty good full flute shape. But when she blew it into her mouth, there was no sound.
“That’s strange? I’m sure he made it like this.”
“What are you doing dangerously at night?”
Then Dylan’s voice was heard from behind her back.
‘How does Dylan know where I am and shows up every time? I’ve even put up a guard.’
Elisabeth looked at him with surprise.
“Young master, it’s inside the mansion. There are also bright lanterns. It’s not dangerous.”
“But she’s still in danger. What if she steps on the wrong foot and falls down? What if she never wakes up?”
“Ho-ho, I don’t think it’s like the young master who answered like that.”
Marian chuckled. Dylan, who didn’t understand his feelings, looked at Marian frustratedly.
Elisabeth, who had been squatting, rose from her seat and offered Dylan a grass flute that looked only plausible.
“I was making a grass flute for Dylan.”
“For me?”
“Yes, I saw it all before. Dylan’s jealous of my grass flute.”
“What?”
Dylan was dumbfounded. He was a man who would not be jealous even if Tyce Orell boasted of a sword made of dragon bones.
But he can’t believe she thinks he’s jealous because of the grass flute.
‘What do you think of me?’
After this long, he thought Elisabeth would recognize him as a pretty cool, dashing oppa. Dylan was deeply hurt.
But as soon as he saw Elisabeth’s little hand-held grass flute, his expression unwittingly loosened gently.
“Give it to me.”
“I knew you’d love it.”
(Dy) I don’t like it.
Dylan brutally disassembled the grass flute that Elisabeth gave him.
“Huh? What are you doing?! I worked hard on it!”
Dylan began to make a new grass flute out of the disintegrated grass leaves without answering.
The grass flute he made was more elaborate than Jeremy made.