Fated to the Cursed Lycan Prince Chapter 1047
Fated To The Cursed Lycan Prince
Crystalâs POV:
My heart sank. I made this wooden whistle by copying the one Rufus had made for me in the past. Rufus now scrutinized the whistle carefully. Did it shake loose some memory of his?
Laura and I glanced at each other at the same time and guessed each otherâs thoughts. She was also afraid that Rufus would remember something.
After studying the whistle for a long time, Rufus turned to me and asked, âDid you make this yourself?â
âOf course,â I replied firmly.
I was a little flustered and didnât know what was running through his mind.
My own mind was thoroughly muddled up. But whatever.
Even if Rufus felt that the wooden whistle looked familiar, he wouldnât remember anything if I continued to insist that I made it myself.
Unless he had made another whistle for himself back then too. However, it was a slim possibility. Rufusâ original intention for carving this whistle was to make it convenient for me to communicate with Rin.
He didnât really share a good relationship with her, so he had no use for a wooden whistle himself.
As this thought crossed my mind, relief coursed through my veins and I could face Rufusâ questions more confidently.
He shot me a pointed look and commented with a faint smile, âI didnât expect you to have the same habit as me.â
I was puzzled. I didnât understand the meaning behind his words. But judging from the expression on his face, it didnât look like he had remembered anything from the past. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Laura winking at me anxiously. This left me even more perplexed.
Rufus handed the whistle to me. He pointed to a small cross on its inner side and said, âWhen I was a child, I attended a woodwork cl@ssfor a while. I liked to leave a subtle mark on all my creations. The position and shape of my chosen mark are exactly the same as the one you have made.â
I was stunned. Judging from Lauraâs helpless expression, I knew Rufus had spoken the truth. âSo is this just a coincidence?â Rufus gazed at me with sharp eyes.
Cold sweat instantly trickled down my spine, and my stomach plunged to the ground. I had just copied his work and had assumed this tiny mark was also a necessary part of the whistle, so I kept it. How would I know it was actually Rufusâ signature? How could I possibly explain this to him without telling him the truth?
âWhy donât you answer me?â Rufus didnât let this matter go.
Faced with his pointed questions, my brain seemed to come to a grinding halt and I couldnât cook up any sensible reason. I couldnât claim that this was just a coincidence. No one would believe that. My copy was so accurate that even the position and shape of his signature were perfectly identical. There was no such coincidence in the world.
Fortunately, my mask obscured my face and Rufus couldnât see my panicked expression.
As soon as I opened my mouth to reply, Laura interjected, âI showed her your creations from your childhood.â
Rufus didnât comment. Instead, he raised his eyebrows and said, âThis is the first time Iâve heard that youâve saved the things Iâd made as a child. I would love to see them one day.â
âI only have photos. I have even saved the pictures of you dressed in a girlâs clothes when you were two years old. Would you like to see them too?â Laura immediately shot back, directly dissipating Rufus â aggressive tone.
âNo need for that. Iâm just curious that you have such a close relationship with Crystal that youâre even sharing my childhood photos with her already.â Rufus scoffed and sat on one side of the sofa, looking dignified and lofty.
I interrupted their conversation, âOkay, stop it.â I turned my attention to Rufus and said, âThe thing is, Arron has recently become interested in woodwork.
When Laura heard this, she mentioned that you were quite skilled at it as a child and then showed me your creations. While looking through the photos, I noticed that the small mark you left was very unique, so I copied it. I didnât know it was your signature.â
âI see,â Rufus replied softly. He didnât pursue this matter anymore. I wasnât sure if he believed my explanation or not. I had always found him to be unreadable, and felt that he had already seen thorough everything but just enjoyed toying me like a clueless mouse in a maze.
Otherwise, why did he bring me back only after I had reached the airport? And every time he asked me something, he always stopped at the right moment, waiting to see how I would explain myself. Although he appeared to believe what I said, no one knew what was really on his mind. I was scared that he would secretly hatch a plan, or he had already had something on me and was waiting for me to fall into his trap.