The Vampire Prince's Blindfolded Bride
Chapter 196: Am I not a fool?

Chapter 196: Am I not a fool?

Melody harbored a suspicion that Izaak was deliberately preventing her from working to the full extent of her agreed-upon monthly payment. "Should I bring this up with the prince?" she pondered aloud, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Yet, in the very next moment, she dismissed the thought, letting it evaporate like morning mist. As Melody dusted the shelves and meticulously arranged the books, scrolls, and parchments back in their rightful places, she found herself puzzled by Izaak’s unexpected benevolence towards her.

Once she had completed her tasks in the study, Melody made her way to the drawing room. There, she encountered Zerah, who was in the midst of delegating tasks to a handful of servants.

"Melody, have you completed your tasks?" Zerah inquired. Upon receiving her affirmative nod, he promptly placed a black cloak into her hands. "Take this to the dressing chamber. His Highness requires it," he stated with an air of authority.

Melody was quick to carry out her duty. She entered the dressing chamber with a spring in her step.

However, her brisk pace came to an unexpected halt when she caught sight of Izaak, clad only in a thin robe. His hair was wet and slicked back, a clear indication that he had just emerged from his bath. The sight left her momentarily astounded.

Izaak sensed her presence and pivoted to face her. "Melody!" His voice rang out, effectively snapping her out of her daze. She promptly lowered her gaze, acutely aware of the stature of the individual standing before her.

"Zerah sent you to assist me with my attire," he mused. "Please expedite the process. I am running late for an important meeting with the vampire council," Izaak directed, his tone laced with urgency.

"Yes, Your Highness!" Melody responded, her voice filled with respect. However, a sense of uncertainty clouded her mind. She rubbed her temple, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar task at hand. This was a duty she had never performed before.

"Your Highness, may I request the assistance of another female servant?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. "I must confess, I am not well-versed in this type of work." Her honesty shone through her words. Unlike her, the palace servants had undergone extensive training, equipping them with the knowledge to handle a wide array of tasks.

"Of course," Izaak granted her request with a nod. Without wasting a moment, Melody hurried off to fetch another female servant. As she observed the servant’s skilled movements, Melody quickly grasped the nuances of the task at hand.

Once she felt confident in her understanding, Izaak dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand. He then ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it to the side of his temple, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Izaak lifted his gaze to meet hers, a question lingering in his eyes. "Is there something you wish to share?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet insistent.

Caught off guard, Melody could only respond with a surprised, "Huh? Nothing."

Izaak, however, was not easily dissuaded. His eyes, sharp and discerning, seemed to see right through her. "I sense there’s something on your mind," he stated confidently. "Please, feel free to share." He encouraged her.

"Your Highness, I think I’m not given work according to the payment I’ll be receiving next month," Melody stated, keeping her gaze low.

Izaak probed, "Do you find satisfaction in ceaseless labor, without rest?" His tone was one of genuine curiosity.

Melody met his gaze, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil. "No, that’s not what I’m trying to say," she started, her voice faltering as she grappled with her thoughts.

Izaak, sensing her struggle, decided to change the topic. "Take pleasure in the tasks assigned to you. Starting tomorrow, I believe you’ll be assisting me in getting ready," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Yes, Your Highness," Melody responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

Izaak then gestured towards the table. "Then, drape that cloak over me," he instructed, referring to the cloak that Melody had placed on the table and subsequently forgotten.

Caught off guard, Melody could only utter a surprised, "Oh." She quickly rushed to retrieve the cloak from the table and returned to stand behind him, ready to assist.

This was Melody’s maiden attempt at such a task, and her uncertainty was palpable. She was unsure of the correct procedure, her inexperience evident in her hesitant movements.

Prince Izaak, noticing her discomfort, gently took her hand in his. His touch was startlingly cold, like a winter’s breeze, causing a jolt of surprise to course through Melody. He placed her hand on his shoulder, his voice steady as he instructed, "Drape it and begin."

Guided by his calm assurance, Melody began to follow his instructions. Her movements, initially uncertain, gradually gained confidence. The fabric flowed from her hands, draping over Izaak’s form as she worked.

Finally, she stepped back, her task completed. She looked at Izaak, her eyes seeking approval. "Your Highness, the task is complete," she announced, her voice echoing in the silent room.

Rising from his seat, Izaak moved to stand before the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, the newly draped fabric adding a touch of regality to his appearance.

His eyes, however, were drawn to Melody’s reflection in the mirror. She was smiling, a small, genuine smile that spoke volumes about her sense of small achievement.

Izaak found himself captivated by the sight, a strange warmth spreading through him. He watched as her smile transformed her face, making her seem more radiant than ever. It was a small accomplishment, but to her, it meant the world.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind then, unbidden but not unwelcome.

’Am I not a fool in love, repeating the same mistakes? Will she really love me the way I do?’ he mused. His heart seemed to answer in affirmation, a silent acknowledgment of the truth he had been denying.

Yet, as he looked at Melody’s smiling reflection, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps, this time it would turn out to be better.