Chapter 285: The Ice Monarch and The Brat
Meanwhile, downstairs, Soha sat quietly on a chair out on the deck, a light breeze rustling the pages of her book. Sunlight filtered through the slats above, casting a striped shadow across her dress. Her expression was calm, composed, even, but her eyes flicked back and forth across the page a little too quickly for someone truly absorbed.
Inside, the prodigy kids group members had gathered around the low table, voices lowered but faces lit with mischief. Georgina leaned in and nudged Lin Heye with her elbow. The movement nearly knocked over the teacup in front of him.
"Come on, go to her!" Georgina whispered, eyes gleaming.
"Right, now is the best time." Dylon nodded.
Lin Heye scratched his head, cheeks tinged pink. "No, no...she doesn’t like people bothering her when she is reading. She once ignored me for three whole days because I asked her what she was reading."
Mason rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands. "Ah, really, how many years has it been, man? Learn from Clyde! The guy locked down his love interest in under two months!"
"Lock down? Please," Georgina laughed with a scoff. "More like Micah dragged him by the collar into it. Clyde’s the kind who would wait a decade to take a baby step toward Micah if no one forced him."
"Yeah, did you see them at lunch?" Dylon said with a snicker. "Secretly showing affection by placing food for each other!"
"Yeah, the boy was practically showing his sovereignty over Clyde! I couldn’t eat properly, I was dying inside not to laugh out loud," Georgina added. "You had to see him when I patted Clyde’s arm! His eyes were like lasers, wanting to burn my hands."
"But really tone it down, Georgina," Lin Heye said, waving a hand nervously. "What if it actually leads to a big fight between them?"
"Yeah. Micah is just a brat. What if he loses his temper?" Dylon nodded.
"Yeah. And guess who’s going to answer Clyde afterwards?" Lin Heye added, pointing to all of them.
Georgina raised both hands, mock surrender on her face. "Fine, fine. I won’t get touchy with Clyde anymore."
Mason tilted his head toward the deck. "Still... did anyone notice how Soha barely reacted during lunch? She was too calm at the table. Meanwhile, those Du Pont juniors looked like they were about to go crazy over that."
Lin Heye scratched his cheek. "She probably missed it. You know Soha, always composed, like a monk in a romance novel. Nothing could really excite her except poems and those old books you can’t even read the first sentence of."
"Yeah," they all nodded.
Outside, Soha was dying inside. She hadn’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. Her fingers gripped the book like it was her last hope to appear calm. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and her right foot bounced ever so slightly. Her outward calm was a total lie.
This was the best decision she had ever made. Coming here? Brilliant.
She had absolutely not expected this trip to fulfil a long-held dream, but it had. It was happening. Right here. In front of her.
Two handsome men. One icy. One fiery. An undercurrent of emotional tension so thick she could practically chew it. Longing glances. Passive-aggressive sarcasm. An embarrassing number of footsie attempts. A ridiculous display of public jealousy that somehow made them more endearing. All of it had unfolded like a forbidden romance novel, and she had a front-row seat.
Soha squeezed her knees together and let out a tiny squeak that no one inside could hear.
She was a full-blown fujoshi. A closet one, yes, but still.
Ever since she was a teenager, she had daydreamed about dramatic love stories between beautiful boys who were too emotionally constipated to confess their feelings. Her upbringing had been strict, reserved, a scholarly household where even gothic novels were unseemly and beneath them, let alone the Boys’ Love genre. So she kept it buried, deeply private, reading and writing her fantasies in the quietest corners of her life.
Even Lin Heye didn’t know about it.
But this... this was good. The silver-haired boy, Micah, was visibly seething with unresolved jealousy. A boy who radiated arrogance and pride, yet he had somehow tangled himself with the cold Du Pont patriarch.
And then the way he acted around Clyde, that silent block of ice...
She clutched her book tighter. She couldn’t take it anymore.
She bit her tongue. Screw it.
She was itching to write a story based on them.
With a breath of resolve, Soha set the book aside and reached for her bag. She pulled out a grey tablet, flipped it open, and quickly tapped the screen. Her fingers hovered for a split second, then began to fly over the virtual keyboard with surprising speed.
The story poured out of her.
"Chapter One: The Ice Monarch and The Brat."
She typed feverishly, eyes gleaming.
The wind tugged at her hair, brushing a few strands across her face, but she didn’t even blink. Her heart pounded with excitement.
No one knew that the story she was writing now would blow up months later. That it would get reposted a hundred times across anonymous fan forums.
*****
The sun had started its slow descent when the group decided to head to the orchard. A gentle breeze rustled the branches, carrying with it the sweet scent of citrus.
Micah walked behind the group, dragging his feet a little. His fingers brushed over low-hanging leaves as he passed, trying not to look at Clyde.
The laughter and idle chatter ahead of him felt irritating.
He stared back and spotted Emile and Dean a few steps behind. He stopped for them to catch up.
He had decided to put some distance between himself and Clyde, yeah, better not to embarrass himself again.
"Hey," Micah said as they reached his side, doing his best to sound casual.
"What’s with the long face?" Emile asked, turning to him with a quirked brow.
Micah let out a dramatic sigh and tilted his head back toward the sky. "I just realised I got stuck with your uncle. I thought I would be rooming with you."
He didn’t blink as he said it, voice even and steady. It was a lie, of course, but he felt he should appear reluctant to be in the suite.
"Did you try to change rooms?" Emile asked.
"Huh... I did," Micah replied, his hands flicking through the leaves of a nearby tree. "Brother Lin is staying with Dylon and the other guy. Teacher is sharing with Sister Jacklin. And Sister Soha’s got a room all to herself. The only other room is yours and Dean’s, and there’s no extra bed."
Dean, who was reaching up to pluck an orange from a low branch, looked over hearing that.
"No one wants to trade with me. Not if it means being near your uncle."
Emile laughed quietly. "That’s true. Even I want to sleep soundly without having to worry about waking up little uncle."
"Aren’t you and brother Dean his nephews? Why don’t you switch with me?" Micah asked, pleading with his eyes.
"Are you kidding me? If Little Uncle were dissatisfied with the arrangement, he would have added another bed to our room. He wants you in there."
"Why?" Micah asked, mortified. For a second, he thought Emile knew about them.
"I think he is trying to curry favour with you..." Emile whispered, hinting subtly.
Micah looked at him in confusion. "Huh?"
"You know... because of... Your family..." Emile said carefully, watching Micah’s face. He figured it was only fair to give him a heads-up. If Micah really was interested in Clyde, then he deserved to know there might be more going on. That their uncle had someone else. For the sake of being his roommate, Emile didn’t want him walking into tonight completely clueless.
A little truth now was better than a slap of reality later.
"My family?" Micah echoed, totally lost. Clyde had told him Ramsy’s family didn’t matter to him. So why was Emile bringing it up like it did?
"Yeah. My uncle is not the type to do things out of kindness alone," Emile said with a dry smile.
Then he looked at Micah’s expression. He seemed thoughtful. Maybe he had figured out why Clyde was nice to him. That Asena had something to do with it. That she told their little uncle to look after Micah.