Chapter 7: The Fox Hunt
* * *
“What… did you just say?”
She didn’t want to appear flustered. She had practiced countless times.
Yet she failed. Why? Despite it being an entirely predictable situation, her mind went blank.
“Please break up with him, Miss Norris.”
Davira spoke with an even clearer tone. Her attitude seemed to regard Lyra as an impurity parasitically clinging to the Duke’s side.
A gaze containing slight contempt. Yet not fully revealed.
What was it? Why was she looking at her with such eyes?
She tried to find a reason, but only an inexplicable anxiety overwhelmed her.
Light-green eyes and blue-green eyes collided for a long time. Her mind burned white-hot. The transformation of anxiety into fear happened in an instant.
The frame of the woman—smaller than herself—seemed to inflate until it reached the ceiling.
‘I’m being devoured.’
In her flickering consciousness, she had a vague thought. That she was not the hunter but rather the prey.
Who was the real red fox? Was it herself, or Davira Claudia?
Her palms grew damp.
‘I can’t be exposed.’
Saliva silently passed down her throat behind tightly closed lips, and the chilling air invading her nostrils penetrated deep into her lungs.
Lyra barely gathered her wits.
‘I don’t want to be exposed.’
She had worked hard for so long for today. Even if her reasons for effort differed from other women, she didn’t want to be consumed by this woman.
She didn’t want to show failure from the first day.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Forcing a smile, she beckoned to a passing servant with her hand. Then she picked up a glass of red wine from the tray.
Her throat was parched. While partly intended to divert the attention of the woman staring at her, she also needed to refresh the atmosphere.
That’s what she had been taught. So she had to act accordingly.
The fingertips pretending to elegantly hold the long stem trembled minutely.
‘Did she notice?’
Naturally switching hands, she glanced at the woman. Fortunately, Davira had lowered her gaze.
As she secretly soothed her chest and was about to bring the wine glass to her lips, the delicate voice was heard again.
“It’s not you.”
The quiet yet calm voice imprinted clearly in her ears. What was she trying to say? As she turned her head, Davira met her gaze and smiled faintly.
“You can never be Kaylon’s match.”
“…”
Again. Those confident eyes were infused with deeper contempt.
Though the situation was already familiar, and she had experienced worse violence, it felt as if her insides were twisting and stabbing sharply.
“A vulgar woman like you who carelessly throws her body around…”
At that moment, her uncontrolled hand moved of its own accord.
Splash!
Red liquid poured forward. As if anticipating the words that would follow.
Davira, suddenly drenched in red liquid, looked at Lyra with a shocked face. The silver hair that had gleamed to the point of appearing pure, as well as the light blue dress that matched her eyes, were now streaming with red liquid, dripping steadily.
An instant commotion rippled through the hall. Some let out small screams, while others chattered with exclamations of “oh my.”
As the gentle melody that had dominated the atmosphere was cut off, people’s murmurs now took its place.
Those watching the two women, regardless of gender, tapped the shoulders of those beside them and spread words.
“My goodness, how could she be so reckless?”
“Is she showing her lack of education? How dare she do that to the Duke’s lady.”
“What family did she say she was from? Tsk. Wasn’t she working as a maid?”
“Oh my, so that rumor was true? What Baroness Mace said earlier…”
“That’s what I’m saying. I saw it clearly with my own eyes. Look at that, the hostility in her eyes…”
As the commotion continued, even the friendly gazes turned cold. Even those who had been quietly observing turned their backs.
Lyra bit her lip hard. Strength drained from her entire body as if blood was flowing out. The wine glass she had been holding fell to the floor with a clang.
It was at that moment. The sound of footsteps firmly hitting the floor quietly resonated, and the gazes of those who had been spreading words turned toward the tall man. They looked with curious faces at the man who had already approached Lyra’s side.
“Lyra.”
Only then did her senses return at the sudden call. What she had done, what trouble she had caused the Duke, and what expression the woman before her wore as she looked at her.
Lyra raised her gaze to Kaylon, feeling her heart beating wildly as if she had played a crude prank on something sacred.
Expressionless golden eyes that revealed no emotion bore down on her. His tightly closed lips seemed ready to reprimand her at any moment.
Ah, why hadn’t she known? Why had she only realized it now?
She should have known when her composure broke. That Davira Claudia had been provoking her. What sharp teeth she had been hiding behind that delicate face.
‘I was the prey.’
Yes. It was now clear. The red fox remained the same, and only she had changed. Lyra realized this fact far too late.
“I’m sorry…”
Just as she was about to utter words of apology, Kaylon removed his hand from his waistband and lightly touched her slender, trembling fingertips.
As her shoulders flinched at the playful action, his long-jointed fingers intertwined with hers and raised their hands to face level.
His golden eyes, moving as smoothly as if swimming, examined her hand before turning to her face with its unstable breathing. His coolly closed lips softened gently, and then his slightly parted crimson lips descended on the back of her snow-white hand like a branding iron.
The sensation pressing against her skin was cool. But soon, the hot breath that burst from within spread rapidly, igniting her entire body.
Though it was just a brief contact, this moment felt exceptionally long. Because there was no trace of reproach in his quietly gazing eyes, because the gradually reviving golden color seemed to shine brighter than any jewel.
“It doesn’t look like you’re hurt.”
He laughed softly. But Lyra couldn’t smile back. With her pounding heart fiercely drumming against her chest wall, she forgot what situation she was in.
In her trembling pupils, she could see only him.
When his large, white thumb slowly stroked her slender fingers, a tingling wave surged in her chest. As she hastily averted her gaze, their tightly interlocked fingers were strongly pulled, and his broad embrace wrapped around her shoulders.
When she turned her head, she felt his gaze at a distance close enough for their breaths to touch. Lyra unconsciously squeezed their intertwined hands tightly.
At that moment, a low voice was heard from above her head. As if ready to deliver another shock to the deathly silent room.
“My fiancée has been rude. Please forgive her discourtesy, Miss Claudia.”
* * *
By the time she regained her senses, they had already returned to the villa. Having removed her elaborate adornments and makeup, Lyra sat blankly on the bed. She didn’t even notice that her freshly washed hair was soaking her shoulders.
“Vulgar! Filthy! Disappear from Duke Lianton’s side at once!”
The calm tone was nowhere to be found, and it seemed as if the contemptuous gazes that had poured out fiercely were harshly agreeing with Davira Claudia’s words.
