“Age isn’t really an issue, is it?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

At his friends’ grumbling, Belrus dragged out his response, “Well…” and then said seriously,

“Her face?”

“What?”

His friends asked in disbelief, and Belrus nodded.

“Yes. For starters, I don’t like her face.”

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words.”

John, representing everyone, sighed.

John’s reaction pleased Belrus, who slyly smiled. Then, elegantly crossing his long legs and interlocking his fingers, he looked like a work of art.

“So, what were you discussing before I arrived?”

“The story of Derrick getting beaten by his father for fooling around with a maid,”

John said with a malicious smile.

“Are you taking revenge for earlier?”

“Do you think this would be enough for revenge?”

The two men began bickering again.
As Eric, with a throbbing headache, tried to stop the argument between the two men, Belrus suddenly clutched his chest and doubled over.

“Ugh!”

The sudden expression of pain from Belrus turned the men pale.

“What’s wrong? Why are you like this?”

In that moment, the men thought of Duke Delta.

If something happened to Belrus here, Duke Delta might seek revenge on everyone present. Even if it wasn’t their fault, Duke Delta was not one to hold back his wrath.

Belrus, with a trembling voice amidst his friends’ cold sweat, muttered,

“You’ve touched on a sore spot of mine.”

“What?”

“Ah, my sad first love.”

Belrus then made a gesture of wiping away tears, realizing that he had been joking. The men sighed in relief.

“Don’t joke like that!”

John shouted, and Belrus gave a chilly smile, his deep blue eyes piercing as he gazed at John.

“A joke?”

“Uh?”

“Do I look like I’m joking right now?”

His voice, laden with unshed tears, resonated in the air. John felt suffocated, as if drowning.

“Uh… well, that…”

Belrus, smiling at John’s stammering, leaned back comfortably.

“So, how was that maid? Was she pretty?”

Lightening the mood, Belrus asked brightly, and Derrick quickly responded.

“Oh? Yeah, she was!”

“What color was her hair?”

“Brown.”

“Eh.”

Belrus’s nonchalant response made Eric smile and ask,

“Does hair color matter that much?”

“Of course, it’s the most important!”

“Really? Then what color do you like?”

Belrus’s thoughts drifted to a painful past filled with scars. It had been 10 years, yet thinking of that woman still made his face feel hot.

“Black.”

Derrick teased Belrus, calling him a proper narcissist, while John still watched Belrus cautiously, and Eric chuckled appropriately.

Belrus, observing their reactions as if watching a play, pictured her in his mind.

Her polite demeanor, a face and voice that couldn’t be accused of arrogance even in jest. Yet, those black eyes never shied away from his gaze.

Black is the darkest color in the world, isn’t it? But her black eyes seemed to shine the brightest. Her hair was the same. Even more beautiful than Belrus’s own black hair.

How beautiful would she look with her tightly tied hair let down? Curious and expectant, Belrus once playfully untied her hair, and it cascaded down like silk, far more beautiful than he had imagined.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than her in that moment.

That’s why he still can’t forget her, still desires her.