You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Chapter 1939: I Want to Work for You

Joyce arrived at a Western restaurant and chose a cozy seat by the window.

"Don't you want a private room?" Clint suddenly asked, looking around with a clear sense of discomfort. His identity was noble, and he had never dined in the main hall before. He preferred a quiet environment and couldn't tolerate dining with others around.

Joyce looked around and noticed that the seat she chose was quite secluded. In theory, it would be difficult for others to notice them there.

"Are you worried about safety? Alright then, I'll get a private room," she said.

Joyce found Munin's request reasonable. After all, he didn't know who might be after him now. Perhaps the person who wanted to harm him had already arrived in Khebury, so it was better to be cautious. She stood up and said to the waiter, "Please get us a private room."

However, the waiter apologized, saying, "I'm sorry, but all the private rooms are fully booked at this time. This is the most secluded seat we have."

Joyce frowned and asked, tilting her head, "What if we make do with this seat?"

Clint reluctantly agreed, "Fine."

But he still couldn't hide his discomfort.

The waiter handed them two menus and said, "As a gesture of apology, we'll offer you two glasses of our signature red wine."

"No need, I don't drink," Clint declined directly.

Joyce glanced at him and thought to herself that he had a heart condition, so it was normal for him not to drink.

In reality, Clint's reason was different. He thought the complimentary wine was too low-grade. Normally, he only drank red wine from specific wineries. Anything below Lafite level was not worth his attention. "You can choose whatever you want to eat. Order for yourself," Joyce said, extending her hand, indicating Clint to make his selection.

Clint glanced over the menu and casually ordered four or five dishes, including appetizers, starters, main courses, and desserts. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

order, Joyce paid

and said, "You seem to be quite familiar with Western cuisine and know how to

replied, "Really? I just ordered based on my instincts. I don't remember what food I like or dislike, or if I have

curiously asked because Luther had also experienced temporary

Clint shook his head.

literacy seem fine," he shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's fine like this. Forgetting who I am allows me to forget

were also happy things. Don't think too much. Everything will be alright," Joyce consoled him

waiter brought their

starters, followed by the main

truffle, a seafood gourmet dish with a hint of yellow mustard seasoning. It was accompanied

tried it and found the taste to be good. It was completely different from the

concluded. "A person's habits are the hardest to change. I think you must

holding the fork suddenly stiffened as he realized his oversight. He had disguised himself as a citizen of Country W,

pretending to be nonchalant as he speared

Maybe. I just thought the picture looked nice, and the taste... well,

a vague and evasive response.

then attend to some business so she

him, she looked up and saw him still chewing slowly.

the wait, Joyce suddenly noticed something: the way Munin dined, from his posture to his knife

it was reminiscent

is not innate; it must be cultivated over a long period of time in

squinted her eyes, feeling a hint of perplexity. She sensed that the man in front of her seemed to

felt her scrutinizing

asked, "What's wrong? Do you have