Bettor Mr. Nobles
Chapter 8

"Are we cousins?" ask Abellard.

Naeva pushes her arm out of the man's grasp.

"Of course we're cousins" he replied, turning his face away. " Do you want to break the fraternity just because I'm angry?"

Abellard was silent. But Naeva also did not wait for the answer. He quickly followed Marc.

Tomorrow morning.

"Has the kitchen seasoning been exhausted?" naeva asked as Emma lifted the barely empty wicker basket from inside the storage rack.

"Yes, M'mselle."

"I forgot to buy it yesterday when I bought clothes for the man" he murmured. "Where's Marc? I'll take him to the market."

"He's feeding the horses, M'mselle. Together with the Young Master," the gentle-faced old lady kept the basket back in her hands.

"He was there too?" muttered the girl again as she stepped into her bedroom to take the money.

Naeva opens her closet drawer, where she keeps money among some of her father's possessions that she accidentally keeps as memories, such as wigs, and wigs, old belts and other items that his father didn't sell when he needed money.

Inside the drawer is also a bronze box measuring 20 cm square, where Naeva keeps her mother's relic jewelry that is still complete as when her mother was still there, because his father wouldn't sell that little piece of jewelry. All of which he kept as a legacy for Naeva.

The girl breathed a heavy sigh. It seemed like soon he would be forced to sell the jewelry for his needs and everything in his old castle.

His savings are only 1,500 francs left. Naeva took 500 Francs to spend.

Then move to the horse stables.

Abellard was stroking the mane of a horse so calm in her hand. It is not surprising that men are good at calming horses. To Naeva's knowledge, the nobles in the city did have a special time for riding as a sport. Perhaps the skill of controlling a horse was still lingering in his memory.

"Marc, we're going shopping, the kitchen seasoning's up."

"Well M'mselle, I prepare the train," replied Marc sprightly.

Abellard immediately turned her head with a glint of interested eyes.

"I'm coming!" yells.

"No. You just stay here," sergeant Naeva. How could he let the man come along while in the market wandering the soldiers who were looking for him?

"Did you still hold a grudge because of the antelope problem yesterday?" the criticality.

Naeva rounded her eyes to hear Abellard's accusation.

"No, I don't hold a grudge against anyone!" resounding.

"Then let me come!" Abellard.

Naeva. His eyes looked at Abellard annoyed.

Naeva guessed the age of the man before her must have exceeded the number 20, maybe even 25 years like Marc. But why is this attitude still like a child?

The girl sighed. He doesn't like to argue. It also seems impossible to prevent the desire of men who are stubborn character.

But how do you make people not recognize him as the Count of Abellard Marseille?

As if inspired, the girl remembered with fake hair and a fake mustache belonging to her late father. He immediately ran inside to pick up the hair and mustache that would change Abellard's face.

"Here, put this on! If you want to come."

Abellard stared at the dazed blond fluff that Naeva had proffered, similar to human hair.

"What's this for?"

"To disguise your face. Did you forget why you got hurt until you lost your memory? You're being hunted by a group of people who are in trouble with you!" answer Naeva.

Abellard. His forehead seemed to be deeply wrinkled, trying to remember the cause of his trouble with the group of ruthless people who were hunting for his life. But the memory did not appear at all.

"Alright, I'll wear it later," he said softly.

**

Their simple horse-drawn carriage galloped down the path. The warm morning sun in spring like this is very liked Naeva. Carnation flowers in the clump of bushes are so beautiful with their bright pink color.

The girl inhaled deeply the fresh air scented with grass and flowers all around her.

"Stop!" A snapping scream suddenly sounded from the right side of the road.

Making Marc who was riding a carriage, pulling the reflex of the bridle in his hand, until the dark horse who pulled the carriage neighed in protest.

"It looks like they're the ones chasing Monsieur Richard" whispered Marc.

Naeva turned to Abellard who was sitting next to her left. The man still did not wear his fake hair and mustache.

"Where is that fake hair?" ask Naeva gusar.

Abellard immediately panicked looking in the car's wooden seat and under it. He accidentally threw a strange object he thought was into the car. And it turns out that the hairy thing is lying under the bottom.

"There's no time anymore! Hurry up and hide down!" naeva orders while pressing Abellard's lower back.

Abellard was forced to go under the cover of a long, fluffy Naeva dress.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. What's the problem with forcing us to stop?" ask Marc sharply.

"Pardon, Monsieur, Mademoiselle. We want to ask," replied the ferocious-looking man after slightly bowing with respect.

"What mean?"

"Did Monsieur and Mademoiselle see a man passing in front of your castle two days ago? The man was badly hurt."

"Hugely injured? Two days ago?" ask Naeva.

"Yes!" the man answered quickly.

"No, we didn't see it."

"That night we saw the man heading here." The man insisted.

Naeva put on an unhappy look. "Do you think we're going to arrest someone who's hurt?" the sarcasm.

"No, it's not like that, M'mselle ...."

Naeva then squinted one eye with a suspicious look. "Are you his brothers? You guys look like you're hunting him!""

"We're his brothers!" the man answered quickly. "Thank you for your answer, and please continue on your journey."

The man immediately ended his interrogation. Then take a few steps back to let their train go.

Marc immediately jerked the reins, and their horses galloped back leaving behind a group of black-tied men staring at their departure with dissatisfied gazes.

But then, Marc's focus was fooled when he heard a stifled laugh.

It turned out that the stifled voice came from Naeva.

The girl even covered her mouth with one hand so that the laughter did not break. But it seemed like he really felt amused until he was finally completely blown away.

How not? An esteemed Count who usually brought others to his knees, was now curled under his butt.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Marc curiously.

"I'm .. I just find it funny. Remembering an unexpected fate. Like the wheels of our car that keep turning. A person who used to accept the prostration of others could one day curl up below," he replied after a satisfied laugh.

Marc who understood the direction of Naeva's conversation smiled.

"Yes, M'mselle is right" he said.

"Am I out?" Abellard's voice was heard below.

"Here you go, come out" answered Naeva.

Slowly from under the width of about one and a half meters it appeared a tall and sturdy body belonging to Abellard.

Naeva turned to the man who came out grumbling. And then his laughter broke again.

Looking at the cute face of Abellard who wears her fake mustache upside down. The mustache that should be curved up, even used curved down.

"Why?" abellard asked confusedly.

Naeva laughed until her stomach was cramped. He smothered his stomach in the rest of his laughter. In his eyes Abellard looked so laughable.

But in the eyes of the two men who were looking at her laughing freely, Naeva was so charming and adorable.

Naeva then turned to face Abellard. Then extend his hand to correct the correct position of the moustache. His lips were still smiling, making him so attractive with a clear chin.

Abellard looked at him deeply. It was as if there was a magnet on the girl's face that made her unable to turn away.

Realizing that gaze, Naeva's eyes instinctively returned the gaze of Abellard's dark blue eyes.

There was a shiver that Naeva did not understand, as her hand touched the skin on the top of Abellard's lips. A sense that demands more touch. Which makes Naeva feel sick in the hot coals.