Chapter 104

Chapter 104

The quieter Liam's voice became, the lower he bowed his head, nervously awaiting Damien's reprimand, already mentally preparing himself for punishment.

Damien watched his anxious demeanor without speaking, merely lifting his eyes to glance at Liam.

A cold sweat instantly broke out across Liam's back.

"Mr. Stuart, did I do something wrong?" Liam stammered, his heart practically leaping into his throat.

Damien looked at him and suddenly let out a low chuckle.

He shook his head and spoke, "Yes, you did make a mistake."

Liam's face went pale instantly. Just as he was about to apologize, he heard Damien continue, "Don't do such unnecessary things in the future."

Liam froze, jerking his head up to stare at Damien, his eyes full of astonishment.

He'd thought Damien would be angry, never expecting there to be no trace of fury—instead, it was as if he'd anticipated this all along.

"Yes! I understand! I'll never act on my own initiative again!" Liam quickly bowed in acknowledgment.

The weight on his heart finally lifted as he turned and withdrew from the viewing room.

The door closed softly behind him, and the room fell quiet once more.

Damien slowly rose and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze penetrating the glass to settle on the slender figure moving forward with the queue at the venue entrance.

Morning light fell across her, outlining her upright silhouette.

She appeared delicate and fragile, yet her spine remained ramrod straight—like a white rose that refused to bend even in the wind.

The smile at the corners of his mouth deepened, his smoke-blue eyes filled with undisguised tenderness.

He chuckled softly, speaking as if to himself, "How could she possibly want such special treatment?"

What he wanted was never to shelter her under his wing and let her lose her own brilliance.

What he wanted was to watch her stand on the highest podium, radiating her own most dazzling light.

John and Emily flanked Beatrice on either side, not stopping until they reached the entrance to the contestants' passage.

"Bea, don't be nervous—just perform normally!" Emily spoke first. "Your designs are so amazing, you'll definitely come back with great results!"

Seeing Emily even more nervous than herself, Beatrice couldn't help curving her lips into a smile, gently nodding, "I know, Emily. Don't worry."

John also spoke up, "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. We'll be in the audience seats. No matter the outcome, we'll be waiting for you."

"Okay." Beatrice waved at them both. "I'm going in to submit my work. See you soon."

Only after her figure disappeared did Emily withdraw her gaze, elbowing John beside her and raising an eyebrow, "Hey, John, are you nervous or not?"

John shot her a cold glance without responding, turning toward the audience seating area.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Emily hurried to catch up. "What's the point of that attitude? Bea will be fine..."

Elsewhere.

The queue at the work submission area stretched quite long. Beatrice stood in line, mentally reviewing her design concepts.

Just then, someone tapped her shoulder from behind.

Beatrice paused in her thoughts and turned around.

The girl standing behind her had flamboyant red curls cascading over her shoulders, her green eyes fixed unblinkingly on Beatrice.

"Hello, I'm Isabella." The girl spoke first. "Back at the venue entrance, I saw you take down those two racists. You were so brave! I really admire you!"

Beatrice hadn't expected her to suddenly strike up a conversation and nodded slightly, "Thank you. I just said what needed to be said. My name is Beatrice."

"Beatrice, what a beautiful name." Isabella's eyes brightened further as she familiarly moved closer. "I'd heard there was a new designer from Novaria in the finals, but I never expected it would be you."

"Honestly, what those two said was way out of line. Only someone like you would dare stand up and fight back directly. Anyone else might have just swallowed their anger."

Beatrice smiled without saying much more.

Her mind was entirely focused on the competition, responding to Isabella's enthusiasm somewhat perfunctorily.

Isabella, however, didn't seem to feel snubbed at all, continuing to chat away cheerfully.

She went from discussing the competition judges to this year's theme, then suddenly shifted topics to something else entirely.

A girlish shyness colored her face.

"Actually, I came to this competition half for my design dreams, and half for someone special." Isabella's voice softened, her green eyes brimming with undisguised joy.

"I want him to see that I can create excellent designs too—that I'm not just some troublemaking kid."

Beatrice listened politely without prying further.

But Isabella seemed to have opened a floodgate, continuing on her own, "The person I like, he's from Novaria like you, though he's mixed race."

"He has the most incredibly beautiful eyes—smoke blue. In my twenty years of life, you couldn't find a second pair that gorgeous in all of Eldoria."

Beatrice's fingertips suddenly froze.

It was as if an electric current shot up her spine. Images she'd deliberately buried deep in her heart now surged uncontrollably into her mind like a tidal wave.

She remembered him shielding her with his body, taking Jacques's knife thrust meant for her, his bandages soaked through with blood, yet still turning back first to ask if she was hurt.

Beatrice stood rooted to the spot, not even noticing when the queue moved forward half a step.

Her heartbeat inexplicably skipped a beat, then began racing out of control.

"Beatrice? Beatrice? What's wrong?" Seeing her suddenly zone out, Isabella quickly waved her slender fingers before Beatrice's eyes, asking with a smile, "Why'd you suddenly go quiet? Did my lovesick behavior scare you?"

Beatrice snapped back to awareness, a faint heat creeping to her ears.

She quickly shook her head, "It's nothing. Just thinking about the competition, worried something might go wrong when I submit my files."

"I see." Isabella nodded knowingly and sighed heavily. "Speaking of which, I'm nervous to death too."

"This is my first time participating in such a high-level international design competition. My father never supported me studying design in the first place—said girls should just get married quietly instead of making public spectacles of themselves."

"If I don't get decent results this time, he'll definitely lock me up at home when I get back and never let me out to compete again."

As she spoke, she blinked her green eyes pitifully and asked Beatrice, "What about you? Are you nervous?"