Chapter 7: The Fox Hunt
Duke O’Neill clicked his tongue. Considering Lianton’s background and his daughter, he should be more actively encouraging the marriage, but his unnecessary pride made that difficult.
He finally patted Kaylon’s arm and moved toward someone else. After all, it’s best for young people to resolve their own matters.
Moreover, he had been increasingly bothered by Davira’s glances in their direction. He thought that withdrawing now would be the way to receive the least blame as he exchanged greetings with Count Almar, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.
Kaylon’s gaze briefly shifted from the rapidly departing Duke O’Neill to the white-haired elderly gentleman, then turned away.
He had made his presence sufficiently known and had directly confirmed the Count’s arrival, so it seemed appropriate to exit the morning’s stage.
“Let’s head back.”
He spoke to Michael, who was standing slightly behind him, and began walking. Just as he was about to leave the venue, an urgent yet quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Duke Lianton.”
The woman who had been waiting for an opportunity approached him shyly. He forcibly smoothed his involuntarily furrowing brow and put on a mask-like smile.
* * *
Drip, drip. Water droplets fell from the faucet. The bathroom, which moments ago had been filled with splashing sounds, suddenly fell silent. Through the humid mist, Lyra leaned against the bathtub and froze completely. She looked as if time itself had been forcibly stopped.
This wasn’t the first time it had happened. It happened during breakfast with Kaylon, and again while she was drinking tea alone. No matter how hard she tried to bury them, fragments of yesterday’s conversation kept invading her mind, making it impossible to concentrate on anything.
“The impatient one always makes the first move.”
‘What did he mean by that?’
It might be overthinking, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever he was doing was connected to her. After all, she was the woman who had almost become the Count’s bride.
‘…’
Even if she’d been too frightened to judge properly at the time, looking back, everything seemed strange.
Him rescuing her at the Count’s private estate, then proposing a deal to a woman he’d just met.
Who would proceed with such an important matter without any verification?
‘He wouldn’t have known what kind of person I was…’
“…!”
Her relaxed pupils suddenly contracted. Her heart raced as an inexplicable sense of discomfort washed over her.
‘The Duke has never asked about me.’
Not from that day until now.
Didn’t that suggest only one thing?
That he already knew about her.
If he had been investigating the Count since then, or even before, the possibility was quite high.
‘Surely not…’
“…that can’t be it.”
Lyra had never doubted the Duke. So she hoped this sudden question wouldn’t grow any deeper.
But before she could push away the thoughts that were spreading uncontrollably, one doubt blossomed into another.
“Keep her under strict surveillance so no man can approach her.”
‘No. That’s to protect me.’
Her head shook in desperate denial.
“Because he promised.”
To protect her from Count Almar and from her family. So this was natural. Nothing strange about it.
Lyra pressed down on her trembling chest. Her face contorted with the effort of forcibly redirecting her thoughts, though she didn’t realize it.
‘Right. Whatever the Duke is doing, it has nothing to do with me. It doesn’t make sense to begin with.’
What he asked of her was to play the role of a villainous lover. A villainess who would stand in opposition to a woman as virtuous as a saint.
So shouldn’t she just focus on the stage she would step onto today? Instead of suspecting the man who had protected and sheltered her.
Lyra released her held breath and rose from the bath. Water streamed down the curves of her body.
“I don’t have time for this.”
Thinking about the ball made her heart race wildly again, but for different reasons. Perhaps from staying in the humid place too long, her mind felt even hazier. She quickly dried herself and went outside.
With less than half a day remaining before she would take the stage, she needed to hurry. There was barely enough time to focus on the immediate tasks at hand.
* * *
“Hah! Hnng!”
Rough breathing sounds came from inside. Kaylon, who was just about to knock on the door, stopped in his tracks. Though he could guess the situation, the woman’s gasps sounded rather provocative.
What kind of elaborate armor was she putting on to make such sounds? He leaned against the wall, waiting for the situation inside to settle. He could have gone downstairs and returned when her preparations were complete, but strangely, his feet remained fixed to the floor.
“Hngg! Ah, Hannah. That’s… enough.”
With his arms crossed and eyes closed, Kaylon let out a small laugh. He felt somewhat sorry for the woman struggling from the very process of donning her battle attire.
A considerable time passed. Hannah, quietly exiting the room, spotted Kaylon and hurriedly bowed her head.
“May I enter now?”
“Yes, she has finished preparing.”
After Hannah stepped aside, Kaylon moved inside. But upon seeing the woman standing by the sunset-lit window, his footsteps could advance no further.
He stood still for a moment, admiring her appearance.
Her slender, long neck with golden hair twisted up and adorned with ornaments. Below, lace that seemed almost transparent covered her chest area, and the gently rising curves appeared noticeably fuller than usual.
And her waist—so small it could be encompassed by one hand with room to spare, while the curves of her hips below created a stark contrast with her thin waist.
His gaze continued downward. Despite the overall body-hugging design, the rear was enhanced with a bustle adding volume, and the long flowing dress skirt made her appear even taller and more slender.
Kaylon’s gaze, having reached the floor, slowly traveled back up. The dress, blending silk that matched her transparent skin tone with subtly shimmering silver thread, reflected the sunset, taking on a speckled crimson glow.
Perhaps that was why. Even without the bright sun, the woman was dazzling.
Standing quietly with her hands folded and eyes downcast—a woman so excessively beautiful that one might wish to avoid her if possible.
He couldn’t take his eyes off Lyra’s face, which seemed especially radiant today.
‘She’ll catch many.’
All traces of innocence were gone, and even her downcast eyes appeared sensual—a figure that would drive any man with eyes wild with desire. Enough to make one want to wrap her slender waist in one’s arms and bury one’s face in her full décolletage.
But in that moment, ironically, the face he least wanted to think about flashed unexpectedly in his mind. Was it because of that face, blushing as if shy? He unconsciously frowned.
“I’ve prepared extensively. I hope you’ll come to the ball.”
“Of course I will.”
“Really?”
“I don’t see any reason to lie.”
A flushed face. A woman intoxicated with happiness at the most ordinary words.
“Then your partner… Oh, please forget I asked.”
“…”
“Perhaps…”
“…”
“Could you be my first dance partner?”
“I’m not one who enjoys dancing.”
“Ah… that’s right. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you…”
A brief meeting, a conversation not even worth assigning meaning to.
Why did the image of Davira Claudia, who would cry and laugh at every word, feel so detestable?
He erased the shy face superimposed on Lyra’s and slowly walked forward.
“I hardly recognize you.”
Approaching, he wrapped a playful tendril of hair that had fallen by her ear around his finger, feeling a softness that could be mistaken for silk. Yet despite the small admiration rising within him, his once-cold gaze remained unchanged.
Kaylon quietly looked down at the woman who seemed too shy to meet his eyes. With each breath she took, her lush eyelashes fluttered without resistance.
Releasing her wave-styled hair, he lifted her chin. For reasons unknown, it happened before his mind could react, as if in that moment, he had wanted to see the woman’s clear eyes.
No, perhaps it had been so since the moment he first entered the room.
Her downward-facing eyelids lifted, and the light-green eyes he had been longing to meet looked up at him. Kaylon stared at the slight trembling in her irises, so clean and transparent they seemed see-through, then smiled deeply.
“Today, be sure to look forward to it.”
