At that moment, the drawing-room door opened delicately. His mother entered, a smile that was overly sweet and attentive on her lips, holding a small teacup in her hands. His father, more reserved and half-invisible, stood behind her, hands clasped behind his back, displaying that blend of authority and solemnity typical of their universe.
I instinctively stood up to greet them, but Prince gently placed his hand on my arm and leaned toward me.
—Stay put, Babe... he whispered with a smile, while looking at his mother.
His mother made a gesture with her hand, gentle but authoritative:
—Stay seated, my son. He is not yet recovered, and it is preferable not to tire him out.
Prince complied, sitting down again gracefully despite his convalescence, and took his cup of tea, while I remained standing, slightly embarrassed.
— Mom, Dad... this is Babe, a friend, he announced with a slight nod.
His mother looked at me curiously and scrutinized me for a moment before asking:
—The young lady who was here yesterday, wasn't it?
My thoughts raced: So Prince has a girlfriend... well, well... I smiled inwardly, amused by this sense of discovery.
Caught off guard, Prince choked slightly on his sip of tea, coughing and blushing.
— No... no... not at all! I... she is just a friend, he stammered.
His father, standing behind his wife, crossed his arms and launched, with an entirely aristocratic seriousness:
— I certainly hope you don't have a whole string of girlfriends, son.
— No, Father.
Prince took a sip of tea, then gently refilled his cup, trying to regain his composure while maintaining his natural and casual air. I couldn't hold back a small laugh seeing Prince, usually so elegant, completely disconcerted. I greeted Prince's parents with a slight smile. His mother responded with a gentle smile, while his father nodded approvingly, immobile in his role of silent authority.
Shortly after, Prince's mother called Greffy:
— Greffy, why hasn't the young lady been served yet? she asked in a polite but firm tone.
— Very soon, Madam. I will bring her biscuits and something light to nibble on, he replied with his impeccable seriousness.
Greffy disappeared to execute his orders, and gradually, his parents withdrew, leaving me alone with Prince in the drawing-room.
— So... that girl your mother was talking about, who was here yesterday... is she your girlfriend?
Prince seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes betraying a slight awkwardness.
— Well... to be clear, he finally replied, — for the moment I only maintain purely carnal relationships, nothing serious.
I narrowed my eyes, feigning incomprehension:
— Huh? But... I don't understand, what exactly do you mean?
He let out a small laugh, both amused and a little resigned, and leaned slightly toward me, lowering his voice as if confiding a secret:
— I mean I'm not attached to anyone right now. But... I prefer to be honest rather than let you imagine stories. I don't mix feelings and... distractions yet.
I looked at him, surprised by his subtle way of revealing himself. His eyes shone with a quiet honesty, and yet, there was that light and casual side that characterized him.
— Hmm... I see... I murmured, I frowned, unable to hold back my spontaneity:
— Wait... you just sleep around?
Prince made a slight movement, surprised by my frankness. Instinctively, he raised a hand to his mouth, as if to keep himself from laughing or choking a little. After a moment, he lowered his hand and stared at me, a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity in his eyes:
— Yes... Babe, if that works for you.
I rolled my eyes, amused and a little exasperated by his way of carefully wording things:
— That's clear then! No need to philosophize about the rest, I prefer it when it's said frankly.
He let out a small, almost inaudible, embarrassed laugh, but his mischievous smile didn't deceive: he appreciated my frankness as much as he was slightly disconcerted by it.
— You don't beat around the bush, do you... he murmured.
— Why should I? I replied, slightly provocative. — If we can talk straight, we might as well do it.
I paused briefly, a corner smile:
— Then Karen probably wouldn't have a chance with you... oh, poor thing!
— Karen? he said, surprised, one eyebrow raised.
— Yes, good heavens... I didn't have time to mention her to you! She's in love with you.
— Her? That's nonsense, Babe. Where do you get that kind of incongruous claim?
— She told me the other day, during the presentation... in the bathroom. It wasn't exactly a calm moment, I'll tell you that much.
— You two argued... because of me?
— Me? Are you kidding! I almost got ripped apart because of you, by that bitch... she probably thought we were dating!
— I hadn't noticed any jealousy from her, much less any feelings. You're teaching me a lot, Babe.
— Yet you boasted about being a keen observer in society, didn't you? So you completely missed her! I'm much more observant than you.
— I doubt that, Babe... otherwise you would have understood that at the beginning...
He didn't have time to finish his sentence. Greffy then made his entrance, perfectly punctual, walking with an almost ceremonial gait, a tray in his hand. Cookies, freshly baked and still warm, perfumed the air. Behind him, a second person arrived with another tray: a main dish consisting of roasted duck with golden skin, accompanied by vegetables in a fragrant broth and a delicate sauce. The comforting smell of the food immediately made me salivate.
— Here you are, Greffy announced in a composed voice. He bowed slightly, the tray wobbling gently, and added almost to himself: — "And the young lady must absolutely taste the biscuits."
I rolled my eyes, amused:
— Oh, I see... I'm under high gourmet surveillance now?
Prince frowned slightly, but I could tell he was delighted by my reaction.
I couldn't help but tease him again:
— You see, once again you didn't even notice that I was capable of sniffing out your butler's culinary intentions!
He burst out laughing, a genuine, almost contagious laugh, and shook his head:
— Very well... very well, Sherlock Babe. You win that round.
Greffy left us alone, bowing slightly before disappearing into the hallway.
— You wanted to say something before the butler came in? I asked.
— No, it's better that things remain as they are, he replied with that little mysterious look that annoyed me.
I frowned, puzzled.
— What do you mean by that?
Without a word, he grabbed a cookie from the tray and put it straight into my mouth.
— Eat and stop talking! he launched, a touch stern, as if my life depended on it.
I couldn't help but laugh, my mouth full, as I chewed the biscuit. He offered me other cookies, and soon, between bites, we chatted, laughing and teasing as if the outside world no longer existed.
When I finished my dish, night began to set in. He took out his phone and signaled his driver.
— It's time to drive Miss home.
I stood up. We walked into his parents' private lounge. I greeted them with a small smile.
— Thank you again for your hospitality.
— Thank you, my dear, you are always welcome here, his mother said with an almost too-perfect sweetness.
— See you soon, I added, turning back to Prince. — Get well soon. I'm lonely at the university, to say the least.
He gave me a teasing look:
— So... you miss me, huh?
I rolled my eyes:
— Of course not... not with your incessant chatter.
Of course... I did miss him, if only a little.
The ride home was silent, but pleasant. Once I arrived, I waved to the driver and went inside. In my room, I undressed slowly, remaining in my bra and panties, a little thoughtful.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated. Yannish. I saw his name displayed and my fingers instinctively clenched. I rejected the call, my anger rising. Then, a message followed: he begged me to answer. I froze, my heart beating a little faster, the urge to respond mixing with my irritation.
It was undoubtedly because of the heated discussion with Prince earlier that this call was coming.
I finally answered, the handset pressed against my ear, my heart somewhat tight.
— Hello?
I heard his voice resonate. I remained silent, short of breath, my thoughts in disarray. He resumed:
— Hello, Babe... I know you're listening, and you probably don't want to talk to me. I just received a furious call from Prince earlier, angry at me, he said in a composed, calm voice, but whose tension was impossible to conceal.
— And so, you're calling me to complain about it, or to accuse me of talking to my friend? I retorted in a sharp tone, each word cutting like a warning.
— Of course not... I'm calling to apologize, darling.
This idiot uses "darling" easily.
— I hadn't realized I made you so uncomfortable. I am a little rough with my words... you surely have a poor opinion of me, he murmured, his voice vibrating with an almost palpable sincerity.
I bit the inside of my cheek, my breath uneven. He sounds sincere... and yet, this pride he wears like armor, he sets it aside to apologize? He admits his faults, even the sexist ones? This is unexpected.
— You only realized it because Prince called you? I launched, my voice colder than I would have liked.
— I would have realized it, surely... but not this quickly, Babe. Will you please forgive me? I'd like us to start over on good terms, you and I.
His voice had softened, almost pleading. Every word seemed to weigh, as if he was depositing a piece of his pride on the line.
I stood motionless, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. What if he was sincere? My breath quickened. No... not yet. Let him prove he has changed first.
— I... I don't know yet, I murmured in a trembling voice. — You are pretentious, arrogant, and you have been misogynistic toward me. We won't be able to build anything together.
— Babe... he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. — I am not misogynistic, I respect women. I simply don't hide my thoughts. I always say what I think, and that can be confusing.
— So this is where we are, Yannish.
— What are you talking about?
— You're hiding your sexist words behind so-called "frankness." I hate it, I said, disgusted by his way of justifying himself.
— Calm down, please. I can't stand arguments, Babe. I just want us to learn to understand each other better. We are probably out of sync...
He paused, inhaled deeply, then resumed in a low, assured voice:
— Think as much as you want, he murmured with an audible smile. — But know one thing: I've never been the type to back down from what I want. And you, Babe... you're going to have to get used to it.
— I don't need to think for a second: I don't accept your apologies. And you, too, are going to have to get used to that.
— Well, I tried... In that case, have a good evening, Babe. We could have explored this relationship instead of constantly arguing.
— Sorry to disappoint you, Yannish. The problem comes from you, and your completely failed upbringing.
— I won't allow you to speak to me like that! I'd better hang up, he said in a firm tone.
And he suited the action to the word.
I stood there, frozen, my eyes fixed on my phone. What does he think, that he's dealing with a silly girl? I'm not that easy.
He was so annoying... And yet, the more we argued, the more I felt something inexplicable. Attraction, maybe? Me, attracted to that kind of buffoon? Nonsense. It's probably because I haven't been in a man's bed since the last holidays. That's it. Rubbish.