Chapter 313 Pretty
Deirdre lifted her head and pursed her soft lips into a polite smile.
She was mesmerizing. Despite the absence of life in her damaged eyes, something in her face
radiated. It summoned a wave within Kyran’s chest so violent that he had to press his lips thin to battle
the urge.
He extended his fingertip and wrote on her palm, ‘No need.” Then, a moment later, he wrote, ‘Sorry for
last
time.”
Deirdre stiffened a little, then she understood him. He was talking about their meeting during the
musical. He had hurt her forehead.
“It’s okay,” Deirdre replied, smiling. “I misunderstood you, that’s all. You just wanted to help. Besides,
my forehead was pretty much healed by nighttime.”
The man gave no response for a long beat before writing. I’m still sorry.”
He knew how uncomfortable Deirdre was when a stranger touched her, so he had been writing on her
palm with a tin layer of tissue between his finger and her skin. His fingertip lingered in the middle of her
hand before waltzing around to form a string of words, tickling her.
Deirdre froze and realized how wrong she was of the stranger. Brendan would never apologize for
something so trivial and insignificant. He would never treat her this gently, either. The Devil’s only
desire was dominance and possession-to equate Brendan to someone like Kyran was an unkind insult.
“Did you come here just to apologize?” She wondered aloud. It would make sense, after all. Kyran was
not one of the villagers. He could not have possibly walked past her yard by chance.
The man tapped on her palm, signaling yes.
She giggled. “You didn’t have to, Mr. Reed. I should have thanked you instead! It was going to be a
nasty fall had you not caught me right on time.”
‘Help you,’ he said.
He took some of her gardening tools and began to help out.
At first, Deirdre had wanted to stop him, but the man was already scooping up dirt and soil. She quietly
thanked him and picked up the uprooted weeds.
His muteness made him a very quiet companion. The silence eased her, and she began to enjoy her
rare break. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to feel the warmth of the winter sun showering on her
skin.
Suddenly, Deirdre felt someone watching her. Kyran had stopped his work.
She was embarrassed. How could she forget that someone else was with her? “Oh God, that was…
Sorry. You were so quiet, I forgot you were here. I must have looked really silly to you, huh?”
The man thought for a moment and proceeded to write on her hand, “You are pretty.”
He thought she was beautiful when she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sun.
He thought she was beautiful in her authenticity-there was not a trace of pretentiousness or affectation
in her demeanor, and it was just beautiful to him.
Deirdre was stunned. By the time she recovered, she realized belatedly that the tips of her ear had
turned scarlet. It had been a while since she heard anyone praise her-Tobey never tried to compliment
her outright of course, it was likely because she hated them since flattery only embarrassed her.
And yet, there was an overwhelming wave of sincerity in every stroke of his finger, as though he was
carving his words into her heart. His eyes seemed to be penetrating her own-his ardor was
unencumbered nor disguised in them.
She retracted her hand, self-conscious. “T-Thanks.”
The man did not make any move. He simply stared at the reddening tip of her ears before returning to
work.
“Dee Dee? Time to take a break, hon. It’s lunchtime. I’ve made your favorite dish toda- Aye?”
Madame Russell had strode into the yard from outside as she spoke, and as soon as her eyes befell on
an uninvited guest, she faltered. Warily, she asked, “Who is this?”
Deirdre rose to her feet. “Madame Russell? This is Mr. Kyran Reed. He’s Mr. King’s friend.”
“Mr. King’s friend?” The older woman echoed as she surveyed the man. Not even his nondescript
getup. rolled-up sleeves, and stint in the field could disguise his regality. Nobody could be fooled into
thinking he was one of the ordinary masses.
Besides, the expensive watch on his wrist basically betrayed his social standing. And by God, the gap
between him and the villagers was just too stark to miss.
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