Charlie River resumed his deadpan expression. "You have five more minutes, hurry up!"
A shiver ran through Sophie Sullivan. Her sore waist and weak legs were suddenly inconsequential; Dealing with Thomas Shannon was the most important thing!
Bracing her trembling legs, she followed Charlie River.
They finally arrived at the golf course.
Seeing Thomas Shannon swinging his club, Sophie immediately found a chair in the recreation area and sat down without a second thought.
There was a cup of iced juice on the tabletop in front of her. She picked it up and took a few sips through the straw.
Thomas Shannon handed his club to a nearby maid and walked towards Sophie.
As she sipped her fruit juice, Sophie gave Thomas Shannon a playful, squinty-eyed smile.
Thomas Shannon’s lips quirked slightly. It was too late for her to try to butter him up now.
He came to stand before her, looking down at her imperiously. "Is it good?"
Thomas Shannon watched her with an unreadable, faintly amused smile, but said nothing.
Intimidated by his strange smile, Sophie quickly spat out the straw she had chewed out of shape. As she tilted her head up to look at Thomas Shannon, he said, "Drink slowly, no rush."
Sophie wanted to retort, Since when was I in a hurry?
Under Thomas Shannon’s gaze, Sophie finished the fruit juice. Then, his hand landed on her head, and he patted it gently twice.
"Come with me. Get acquainted with your work."
Sophie reluctantly got up and followed him.
He took the club from the maid and, with an elegant, swift swing, sent the white golf ball arcing through the sky.
Thomas Shannon tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he looked at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Little maniac, go fetch the ball."
He’s asking me to retrieve the ball?
She rose slightly on her tiptoes and reached out to feel Thomas Shannon’s forehead.
"You don’t have a fever. So why are you making me retrieve the balls? Aren’t there caddies for that? Or, if not, wouldn’t it be better to have these maids do it?"
Why is he trying to enslave me?
He knows full well what state I’m in; my legs will give out after just a few steps.
Making me run back and forth to pick up balls—isn’t that practically a death sentence?
Thomas Shannon ignored all her questions.
His deep, dark eyes seemed to pull one in, and he gazed intently at Sophie.
Somehow, Sophie thought of the doctor she had met at the castle.
Thomas Shannon probably already knew, didn’t he?
So that’s why he came up with this way to punish me.
Sophie raised her hands in surrender. "Alright. But let me be clear: if I really can’t retrieve them anymore, you have to let me off, okay?"
Thomas Shannon turned away, gazing into the distance. "Go."
He neither agreed nor disagreed.
Resigned to her fate, Sophie dragged her aching, weak legs to retrieve the balls.
She just hoped Thomas Shannon would go easy on her, not hit the balls too far, and not torment her too much.
She was, after all, too naive!
Thomas Shannon seemed intent on tormenting her, sending golf balls flying in all directions, making Sophie’s head spin just watching them.
What was even more infuriating was that while her back was turned picking up a ball, he actually hit her with another one!
Sophie clutched her backside, spun around furiously, and roared at the despicable man in the distance, "Thomas Shannon, you bastard!"
The mountain was vast and empty, and her shout echoed endlessly.
Thomas Shannon chuckled softly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It seems she isn’t tired yet."
With that, he swung his club, and the ball flew even farther.
Sophie gritted her teeth. "Beast! Rascal! Bastard! You rotten-hearted fellow!"
She cursed as she bent down to retrieve the balls.
Her harried figure darted continuously across the golf course.