Chapter 277: [DON'T OPEN] Shana's Misunderstanding [3]

An uncomfortable silence fell over the office, though Shana seemed to be the only one troubled by it.

She stood several steps from Ulrich’s desk, uncertain whether she should approach or wait until he acknowledged her. He continued writing, his attention fixed on the document before him. The scratch of his pen sounded unusually clear in the quiet room, and Shana found herself listening to each pause as though it might mean he had finished.

He raised his eyes briefly.

One brow lifted at the sight of her clothes. She had come in something closer to sleepwear than the gown she wore during the day. It was late, however, and she might already have been preparing for bed when she remembered his summons. Perhaps she had hurried here without thinking to change.

Ulrich saw little reason to question it, though he found the sleepwear perhaps a bit odd, if not say daring.

“Close the door,” he said, lowering his gaze to the page again.

Shana stiffened.

Of course he wanted the door closed. She had been foolish to leave it open, though some part of her had found comfort in the corridor remaining within reach.

She turned and pushed it shut. The small thud of the latch seemed louder than it should have.

Now she was alone with him.

Her heart had been beating quickly before she entered. With the door closed, it became difficult to ignore. She could feel it high in her chest and hear it whenever Ulrich’s pen stopped moving. If it continued like this, she might disgrace herself by fainting before he had even spoken to her properly.

Shana drew a careful breath. Then another.

Ulrich continued working.

He probably wanted to finish his business first. She could understand that. He had responsibilities, documents that needed his attention, and a household that depended on his decisions. She could not expect him to set everything aside merely because she had arrived.

Yet waiting made her thoughts worse.

She had spent the whole evening preparing herself for what she believed he wanted. Now she stood before him with no idea how to begin, and every moment of silence gave her another opportunity to imagine failing.

She took a couple of steps forward.

Ulrich had called her here for a reason. She had convinced herself she knew what that reason was, and she could not afford to appear unwilling after accepting everything he had given her. He had brought her out of the cell, provided a room, allowed her to eat with the sisters, and entrusted her with their lessons.

Today had been the first day in years when she felt useful.

She had enjoyed speaking with the girls. She had watched Esther discover her Tree and helped Hermione find hers. Even Airam, despite her frustration, had listened. Shana had left the yard wanting to study harder so that she could teach them better.

She did not want to lose that.

Perhaps she should show that she was willing before Ulrich decided he had to demand it of her. If she could stop trembling and take the initiative, she might avoid making the whole encounter more humiliating than it already felt.

She was a witch. She had survived two years beneath the estate. Surely she could endure one evening without behaving like a frightened child!

The argument did little to calm her, but she held on to it anyway.

Ulrich finished the last line of the document. He read it over, signed his name, and reached for the sealing wax. Shana watched while he folded the paper and pressed his seal into the wax.

He set the document aside and looked up.

Shana went still beneath his gaze.

Ulrich stared at her for a moment. She appeared more nervous than she had been in the courtyard, which was saying something. He assumed she was worried about reporting on the lesson. Airam and Hermione had refused to tell him how it went, and Shana might fear that he would blame her for their displeasure.

He intended to hear her account before deciding whether anything needed to change.

First, he stood and crossed to the small table at the side of the room.

Shana followed him with her eyes. He uncorked a bottle of Rubenhart wine and poured himself a glass.

The wait was almost unbearable.

She had prepared herself to act while he was at the desk. Now he was across the room, and she no longer knew whether she should stay where she was or move closer. Perhaps he meant to take his time. Perhaps he expected her to understand how this was supposed to happen without being told.

Ulrich lifted the glass, checked its scent, and returned to the desk.

“Take a seat.”

He placed the wine beside the papers and sat down.

Shana looked at the chairs in front of him, but her thoughts had already taken a different direction. Sitting there seemed like delaying again. She had been telling herself she should show willingness, and now he had given her an instruction she could turn into an opportunity.

Before she could reconsider, she moved around the desk.

Ulrich reached toward his glass, then stopped.

Shana had passed the chairs without looking at them. She came directly to him, and before he could ask where she was going, she climbed onto his lap, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“…”

Ulrich stared at her.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Shana’s face was red, and her hands trembled against his shoulders. There was no sign of an attack, no gathering mana, no attempt to reach for anything on the desk. That was the only reason Ulrich had not pushed her away immediately. He had seen her approach and recognised no threat in it.

He had certainly not expected this.