Chapter 4
“I am Floreseco,” Juliana said calmly once again.
Braeden’s eyebrows twitched. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.
“You know just saying it isn’t enough to convince me.”
“There’s a crest that represents Floreseco. I’ll show it to you.”
“Hmm… very well.”
Braeden straightened his back from where he had been leaning against the sofa.
Juliana knew he had adjusted his posture to get a better view of the crest. But since it was located somewhere not easily shown, she hesitated, her fingers fidgeting slightly in discomfort.
“Um… to see the crest, Your Grace, I’ll need a little help from you,” she said softly, standing up and beginning to remove her robe.
Braeden let out a quiet scoff, watching as Juliana’s cheeks flushed red.
With her soft-looking platinum blonde hair, fair skin, and deep green eyes, she was undeniably beautiful. Even by objective standards, she stood out. She didn’t have a bold or seductive presence, but her gracefully shaped eyebrows, clear eyes, and full, red lips gave her the elegant and refined beauty often associated with nobility.
Her actions, to anyone watching, would have seemed like an attempt to tempt him. Braeden briefly recalled similar past experiences and chuckled again as he stood up from his seat.
She looked so shy and reserved that he couldn’t help but be curious about what she would do next.
“The crest is in a spot I can’t reach by myself. I tried to wear something that would make it easier to see,” she said, fumbling for an explanation.
Now blushing all the way to her ears, she turned her back to him. She seemed to be explaining why she had chosen a dress with a low-cut back. But Braeden wasn’t really listening.
His attention was caught by the smooth curve of her pale neck and the graceful line running down her back. It was the kind of sight that could easily captivate any man.
“If you could loosen the knot a little, the crest should become completely visible,” she said.
So, she was asking him to help undress her?
Braeden raised an eyebrow.
She was far more daring than he had expected.
Braeden silently watched the woman trembling as she stood with her back to him.
She was the one who had asked him to help undress her, so why was she shaking?
Letting out a sigh of disbelief, he noticed that his breath must have brushed against the back of her neck, because she flinched slightly.
“Then, if you’ll allow me,” Braeden said politely, like a gentleman, and slowly began to untie the knot on her dress.
The skin beneath his fingertips felt incredibly soft.
With every movement of his fingers, the atmosphere in the drawing room seemed to grow heavier, more intense.
Juliana tried her best to ignore the rising tension in her body, waiting for him to check the crest quickly.
Cool air brushed against her skin through the open back of the dress, sending a chill down her spine. Yet whenever she felt his gaze on her, the coolness was replaced by a burning heat, as if her skin had been touched by fire.
His silence made her feel increasingly anxious. Unable to bear it any longer, Juliana finally asked, “Have you seen it?”
“I have. But that alone isn’t enough,” he replied.
Simply seeing the mark with the naked eye wouldn’t be enough to confirm whether it was real.
“I’ll need to test it with magic, so stay just like that.”
Juliana gave a small nod.
Braeden placed his hand over the crest. As his magic flowed from his palm into the mark, a red flower bud lit up with a bright glow.
“It’s real,” he said, gently rubbing his chin, a bit surprised.
Relieved that the verification was complete, Juliana turned around with a look of satisfaction.
“Then I suppose it’s my turn to make a proposal.”
Since the knot on her dress was still loose, her shoulder became slightly exposed as she moved. Seeing her in such an unguarded state, Braeden let out a quiet sigh.
“Please, fix your clothing first.”
“Oh…”
Juliana’s cheeks turned pink, like a ripe peach. Braeden, feeling both baffled and slightly amused by how unaware she seemed of her own boldness, helped her tie the dress back in place.
She had just made the Empire’s only Grand Duke, a powerful high demon at that, assist her with her clothing.
It was a bold move. One that, in its own way, he had to admire.
The two of them sat across from each other on the sofa again.
Juliana felt mentally drained. Being in front of this man made even breathing feel intentional, and it was incredibly uncomfortable.
“Go ahead. Tell me about this proposal of yours.”
Braeden gave a slight nod, watching her with interest as she struggled to collect herself.
Juliana took a deep breath, steadying her thoughts. This was a chance she had fought hard to earn. There was no way she would let it go to waste. A firm resolve settled in her eyes.
“Your Grace, please marry me.”
Braeden had been curious about what kind of proposal she would make, but her words caught him completely off guard. He let out a quiet, incredulous laugh.
“Are you serious? I didn’t realize you had feelings for me, Miss Barnett.”
His voice held a mix of genuine surprise and mild sarcasm. Flustered, Juliana hurried to explain.
“I know there’s been pressure on you to marry now that you’re of age, Your Grace. That’s why I’m making this offer. If there’s no one you care for already, then what about marrying me? I’m the Floreseco you’ve been looking for. And after two years, I’ll agree to a divorce.”
Braeden let out a sharp breath.
The thought that she had sat there so calmly and confidently while hiding such a bold plan was both irritating and absurd.
Marriage, and then divorce. The way she spoke made it all sound far too simple.
She doesn’t even know why I’ve been searching for the Floreseco.
His narrowed eyes held a mix of curiosity and irritation as he stared at her.
“I understand that it might be difficult to give an answer right away,” Juliana said. “But I was hoping to hear your decision at the Duchess Diane Fraser’s birthday banquet, two days from now.”
Picturing her preparing all of this in advance and then coming to visit his townhouse, Braeden had to admit it—this woman was no ordinary person.
He had already been prepared to go to even greater lengths to secure the Floreseco, so there was no real loss to him in accepting this arrangement. Still, he had no intention of letting her see that so easily.
Holding the upper hand in any relationship was second nature to him.
“This is quite unexpected,” Braeden said, rubbing his chin with an unreadable expression.
Juliana bit her lip without realizing it. If he rejected her proposal, she would have to come up with another plan but whether she could find a better one was uncertain.
“Of course you would be. I understand,” Juliana said, biting her lip before giving a faint, bitter smile.
Seeing her like that, Braeden spoke as if granting her a favor.
“But I’ll think it over.”
With just those few words, color returned to Juliana’s pale face. To be honest, it was the kind of beautiful face any man might find hard to resist.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Then, I’ll take my leave now.”
“Go ahead. Until next time.”
As Braeden’s lips curved into a slight smile, Juliana turned away, trying not to look at him. She left the townhouse quickly.
Once she climbed into the hired carriage she had arranged to wait for her, her tension finally released. Her body began to tremble from the stress.
When she recalled the Grand Duke’s red eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as if she had done something reckless. But it was already too late to take it back.
Upon returning to the Barnett estate, Juliana hurried straight to the prayer room.
Rosie, who had been anxiously waiting, lit up with relief the moment she saw her.
“Nothing happened, right?”
“No, Rosie. Everything’s fine. The Count and the young master haven’t returned yet, have they?”
“No, my lady. They’re still out.”
“That’s a relief. Thank you.”
Juliana stepped into the prayer room and knelt on the cold floor. The chill seeped into her legs. She had spent many painful hours here in the past, sitting so long that her whole body would ache. Strangely, today the place felt comforting.
While her hands kept busy copying lines from the scripture, her thoughts were elsewhere.
She wondered if Duke Ortis would truly accept her proposal.
Her mind ran through different possibilities and outcomes when the door to the prayer room suddenly swung open.
“There you are.”
Tristan stood at the doorway, looking down at her with unfocused eyes. The sharp smell of alcohol hit her immediately.
He must have come straight from a gathering of young nobles, drinking heavily even in the middle of the day.
For a moment, memories from her past life surfaced, and Juliana almost frowned. But she managed to keep her expression calm as she replied.
“As you can see, I’m copying scripture, Brother.”
Juliana always called Tristan “Brother,” but not out of warmth or affection.
It wasn’t because she truly thought of him that way.
He often gave her unsettling looks whenever he had the chance.
She used that title deliberately, as a way to remind him of the nature of their relationship.
“A filthy woman pretending to be holy,” he sneered, stepping boldly into the narrow prayer room.
“Don’t interrupt me,” Juliana said firmly, her eyes hardening.
That only seemed to amuse Tristan more. He licked his lips, clearly intrigued.
“You know why I act this way, don’t you? Don’t be so difficult. Just give in and—”
The moment he reached out his hand, Juliana snapped the pen in her fingers with force. Then, without hesitation, she brought the sharp end to her own neck.
“Give in and what? You know the banquet is in two days, don’t you? What do you think will happen if there’s even a scratch on me?”
Tristan froze.
He knew all too well how the Count and Countess Barnett had recently grown even more strict about protecting Juliana. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have already tried to claim her for himself.
A woman whose purity must be preserved to fetch a higher price.
And in this moment, Juliana couldn’t have been more grateful for that cruel reality.
Tristan didn’t have the courage to defy Count Barnett. His face twisted with frustration.
Tristan kicked the prayer room door in anger.
“You, vicious girl!” he shouted, muttering curses as he walked away.
Juliana watched him leave, her eyes turning cold and still.
There was no fear, no sadness—only a quiet, frozen calm.
