Chapter 8
“W-Why do you think that?” Juliana realized her voice was trembling and quickly swallowed hard.
Even then, Braeden’s eyes showed no sign of softening.
“It’s nothing,” Braeden said. He had been about to ask about the cut on her lip, but quickly pushed the thought aside.
He couldn’t be sure if uncovering something she was clearly trying to hide was the right thing to do.
Instead, he quietly kept in mind that there might be something troubling her—perhaps even a threat to her safety.
Of course, since Braeden kept all of this to himself, no one else had any way of knowing.
That’s why the only rumor that began to spread from Ringlef Square was that Grand Duke Ortis had tried to steal a kiss from Lady Barnett, the daughter of Count Barnett.
The two of them moved to a nearby upscale café.
Upon hearing of Grand Duke Ortis’s visit, the manager came out to the entrance to personally welcome them.
“It’s an honor to have you visit our café, Your Grace,” the manager said politely.
“I’m not fond of people who talk just for show,” Braeden replied, his tone cold and blunt.
The manager flinched slightly at Braeden’s sharp response. What Braeden meant was clear—don’t just say it’s an honor, prove it through action.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the manager forced a nervous smile.
“O-Of course. Words alone don’t mean much, after all.”
Quick to read the situation and act, the manager immediately cleared out a section on the second floor just for them.
Braeden looked around at the now quiet space and gave a satisfied nod.
“This is a much better place for a proper conversation.”
Noticing Juliana’s uneasy expression, Braeden naturally pulled out a chair for her and gestured for her to sit.
“Go ahead. I have a feeling there’s a lot we need to talk about.”
As soon as they sat down, the table was filled with an almost overwhelming amount of cakes and desserts.
“If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask,” the manager said with a respectful smile.
“Very well,” Braeden said without any added politeness.
He didn’t bother to say things like “That’s fine” out of courtesy.
The manager, still wiping enough sweat to soak his handkerchief, bowed deeply and quietly stepped away.
“So, what exactly am I supposed to do now?” Braeden asked, stirring his tea casually with the small spoon in front of him.
“Well… the thing you need to do is… propose,” Juliana said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Even as she spoke, she felt how bold and awkward those words sounded.
She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead, to avoid looking at him, she focused on the bright red cherry resting on top of the soft white whipped cream.
Braeden followed her gaze, then gently pushed the dessert plate toward her.
“Do you like cherries?”
Juliana didn’t especially like them, but since he had gone out of his way to offer it, she gave a polite smile.
“Thank you.”
She picked up the cherry, hesitated for a second, then finally put it in her mouth.
Braeden’s eyes were drawn to her lips as they moved slightly while she chewed.
Juliana could feel it—his gaze, lingering on her mouth since earlier—and before she realized it, her face began to grow warm.
“A proposal, huh… Am I supposed to send a flower carriage or something?”
Juliana, who had just brought her teacup to her lips, paused and looked at him with wide, startled eyes.
“A flower carriage? Why would you do that?”
Braeden, who had lived for thousands of years without ever caring about human customs like proposals, suddenly realized how little he actually knew about them. He frowned slightly at the thought.
“I’ve never proposed to anyone before,” he admitted.
Well… of course you haven’t. Juliana felt something strange about his words, but she couldn’t argue with them. Instead, she responded calmly.
“You just need to prepare a ring. Since noble marriages are often treated like business deals between families, the Barnett family might ask for some sort of financial arrangement.”
That was the part she felt most sorry for. Agreeing to this contract marriage seemed like more of a burden than a benefit for him.
“That doesn’t matter,” Braeden replied without hesitation. “I’ll handle that. What I want to know is, what do you want, Miss Barnett?”
When Braeden responded so easily, without even a moment of hesitation, Juliana was caught off guard.
“My father, Count Barnett, is a very greedy man. He might ask for something unreasonable.”
“And if he does? If he demands too much, am I supposed to give up on you?” Braeden asked.
Juliana’s eyes wavered for a moment. But soon, she understood the meaning behind his question and quickly composed her expression.
“Whatever he asks for, I’m sure it will be something minor. It wouldn’t even come close to affecting Your Grace’s wealth.”
Braeden watched her closely, intrigued by how quickly she adapted to the situation.
At first glance, she seemed like a fragile noblewoman with no understanding of the world, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized she was different.
She was stronger than she looked, and she made decisions with quiet confidence. He liked that about her.
He couldn’t stand women who constantly asked for help or expected to be taken care of.
“What I want,” Juliana said softly, “is to divorce in two years. When that time comes, I’d like a house to live in. It doesn’t have to be large, just enough for me to live comfortably.”
She quickly added the last part and waited nervously for Braeden’s response.
“That’s all?”
“What do you mean, that’s all?” Juliana blinked, looking at Braeden with a puzzled expression.
He stroked his chin for a moment.
“No, I mean… that’s not a difficult request. I’ll give you what you asked for, just as you said.”
Everything was going too smoothly, without the need for any back-and-forth, and that made Juliana feel strangely uneasy.
“Your Grace, please tell me what you want as well.”
At her words, his cool red eyes met her green ones and held her gaze steadily.
“I intend to make you the next Floreseco. And I plan to do everything I can to make that happen.”
She knew she carried the mark of the red flower bud, but fully awakening as the Floreseco—someone chosen, someone sacred—was something entirely different.
And yet, he was saying he would give his all to help her reach that point.
“Why…?” Juliana asked quietly, her voice barely more than a breath.
Braeden looked at her and answered.
“I can’t tell you the reason right now. But once you become the Floreseco, I want you to promise me you’ll do one thing for me. I give you my word—it won’t be anything that puts you in danger.”
With him saying that much, how could she possibly say no?
Juliana slowly nodded.
“Alright. I promise.”
“Good. Then I think we’ve covered everything that needs to be discussed before the marriage.”
“As your wife, and as the future Grand Duchess, I’ll do my duties sincerely,” Juliana added with quiet determination.
Braeden let out a soft chuckle at her serious tone. It was the first time Juliana had ever seen him smile, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“I see. There’s no need to be too serious, but if that’s how you feel, I won’t stop you. And just as you promise to do your part as my wife, I’ll do mine as your husband.”
As his expression softened, the sharp and distant impression he usually gave faded, making him seem unexpectedly warm.
And when he promised to fulfill his role as a husband, Juliana felt her heart skip a beat.
She had told herself that as long as he was better than Felix Everett, it would be enough. But he was…
Juliana had thought that even if he wasn’t a good person, she could put up with it for two years. But Grand Duke Ortis seemed to be better than she had expected.
As she tried to steady her racing heart with a sense of relief, Braeden pointed at the dessert plates on the table.
“Go ahead and eat. We’ve been talking so much that we haven’t touched anything. Even if you finish every dessert here, I’ll say I ate it, so don’t worry about it.”
He crossed his legs and took a sip of tea. His posture was elegant, almost like a painting, though his tone made it feel like he was teasing her just a little.
If he hadn’t scared the manager earlier, they probably wouldn’t have ended up with this many desserts in the first place.
Thinking that, Juliana asked, “Aren’t you going to eat any, Your Grace?”
“I don’t really care for sweets.”
“I see,” Juliana replied, her voice a little awkward as she picked up her fork.
To be honest, she had never tasted desserts this luxurious while living at the Barnett estate.
She had always watched her figure carefully, so she had never even imagined eating sweets like this without restraint.
It had been the same at the Everett household. Although Juliana held the title of marchioness, no one really cared about her beyond making sure she was fed.
She scooped up a piece of the soft cake, topped with an almost guilty amount of cream, and took a big bite.
The sweetness spread across her tongue, and it was incredibly delicious.
“You should try this, Your Grace. It’s really good,” she said, her eyes wide with surprise at how much she was enjoying it.
Braeden watched her rounded eyes for a moment, then suddenly said,
“We’re going to be married. Calling me ‘Your Grace’ feels too formal. Just use my name.”
“What?” Juliana’s eyes grew even wider.
The thought of calling the ruler of the North, the man known as the Black Reaper, by his name made her feel dizzy.
“You weren’t seriously planning to keep calling me ‘Your Grace,’ were you?”
Honestly, she hadn’t thought about it.
Juliana froze for a moment, but when Braeden gestured for her to say his name, she snapped back to her senses.
Her voice didn’t come easily, as if she had forgotten how to speak.
Even so, she forced the words out.
“Brae…den.”
Just saying his name once made Juliana’s heart race far too quickly.
“Juliana.”
He spoke her name in return, as if responding to her.
The playful curve of his lips, the ruby-like eyes partially hidden beneath his lowered lashes, and his deep voice that gently brushed past her ear made her heart pound even harder.
All he had done was say her name. That was it.
“I think it’s going to take me a little time to get used to this,” Juliana said with a shy, awkward smile, trying to ease the tension she felt.
After that, she ended up eating more dessert than she ever thought she could. It was far too much, but somehow, she couldn’t stop.
Once they were finished, the two of them stepped out of the café together.
Just as Braeden reached out his hand to help her into the waiting carriage, someone approached them with steady, confident steps.
“Your Grace. So, you haven’t returned to the North yet.”
It was Felix Everett.
