Chapter 42
Chapter 42
The first to react was the Crown Prince.
“If you don’t stop right there— “
“Or what?”
Kyrie smiled sweetly, just as she used to when she had followed Lexion around, docile and radiant. The smile he remembered.
He flinched, unable to help but stare at her face. His gaze lingered longer than it should have.
Long enough for everyone to recall that the Grand Duchess had once pursued the Crown Prince, and that the Crown Prince had not quite let her go until he met Elise.
“That dress says it all.”
“…”
“Maybe it’s because you’re truly her daughter, you resemble your stepmother quite a lot, Elise.”
Kyrie said it while staring straight at Lexion.
And in that moment, everyone understood what she meant.
Elise’s mother, who had clawed her way into the role of the late Duchess by mimicking her.
And Elise, who had secured the place beside the very Crown Prince Kyrie once pursued.
Until now, the picture had always been painted to villainise Kyrie. But in that moment, the colours bled, splattered onto Elise, too.
Like a brush of paint tossed carelessly, catching everything around it.
“Gasp.”
Someone audibly reacted.
Then, a loud and unrestrained laugh rang out, drowning the room.
“Ha–hahahaha!”
It wasn’t only the onlookers who were startled.
Even Lexion, who had known the Grand Duke for a long time, and Kyrie herself, standing beside him, turned to see the man laughing with such mirth.
He looked down at her, beaming brighter than she had ever seen before, like a mischievous boy bursting into laughter.
‘Ah.’
Kyrie found herself staring at him, spellbound.
The man who always wore that insufferable, crooked smile, laughing so freely now, it felt strangely surreal.
And yet, she had no choice but to admit the truth.
‘Thanks to him.’
Thanks to him, she had been able to bite back.
When Elise had appeared wearing that dress, with their mother’s pendant hanging from her neck, Kyrie had been left completely blank.
The shock of realising that everything she had once cherished and longed for no longer belonged to her had hit her anew.
‘My happiness.’
Not only taken, but defiled. That’s how it felt.
The Duke following in behind Elise, the people of his house standing before her like a wall, her blank mind was rapidly filling with fury.
She’d wanted to scream, to tear the dress from Elise’s body with her own hands. To rip it apart, and cast the pendant into a furnace, never to be seen again.
‘I should’ve just dismissed it all without emotion.’
No matter how precious something once was, the moment it became tainted, it could never truly return to her. The dress, hidden away for so long, was no exception.
Just as she was on the verge of breaking down, the Grand Duke had intervened.
And whether intentional or not, he had brought up the dress’s origin, giving her the very thread she needed to strike back.
‘I didn’t think he’d do anything but watch.’
Each time she felt his firm hand gripping her, Kyrie found herself not falling apart, but being anchored. It was strangely grounding.
Then, without another word, the Grand Duke took her hand and began to walk.
Or rather, stride. His steps were so large and swift that it was closer to a half-run than a walk.
“The show’s over.”
“Your Grace…”
“Let’s leave.”
The flurry of fluttering fans and murmured whispers washed over them like a wave.
Her dress and hair sliced through the crowd like foam upon water.
A strange sense of liberation washed over her.
Creaaak. The door opened, revealing the garden at the back of the grand hall.
As the overwhelming scent of flowers filled her senses,
“Mm!”
A rush of heat crashed against her lips.
Before she could fully register the kiss, the Grand Duke wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
“Mmph…”
What on earth had sparked this man?
‘If I think about it…’
He always seemed most exhilarated when she was either in danger or behaving outrageously.
Her breathy sigh was swallowed into the cavern of his mouth.
“Haa…”
Only when she began to pant did the Grand Duke pull away, letting out a deep, satisfied exhale.
Their mouths still glistened with mingled saliva. He paused to gaze at her face, then bent down and nipped her lips again.
“Ah!”
A startled sound escaped her before she clamped her mouth shut. All the while, he was deftly guiding her beyond the garden and toward one of the guest rooms, his hand already sliding up the fabric of her gown.
Shrrrk.
The intricate decorations that framed her neck and chest caught the moonlight and scattered like droplets as they fell.
Trailing behind them on the grass, the scattered beads reminded her of a fairy tale, of siblings dropping breadcrumbs to find their way home.
But the thought didn’t last.
The moment they entered the guest room, his mouth claimed hers again and his body pressed her down.
She could feel every movement of his hand sliding beneath the layers of her blue gown, as if dipping into deep water.
“Wait, “
‘Here, of all places…’
Even in her alarm, Kyrie realised it wasn’t all that surprising.
After all, they’d once done this at the wedding venue itself, before guests who were waiting to greet the bride and groom.
If shame was the measure, that moment had been worse.
“Your Grace.”
When she hesitated, he simply lifted her into his arms and pinned her against the wall.
“What are you–!”
Her balance slipped as her feet left the ground. Her heels dangled loosely from her toes.
Instinctively, she clung to him tightly.
Their bodies pressed close, her head against his solid collarbone. The familiar scent of gunpowder and cigar smoke clung faintly to him, it had faded, perhaps because he hadn’t smoked recently.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Finally securing herself, she spoke with a note of protest.
The Grand Duke, who had been idly stroking her lower back, whispered.
“Call it… praise.”
“You always praise people like this?”
Despite the sarcasm in her tone, he gave no reply, just a faint tremble.
She could only assume he was laughing.
Annoyed, she gave him a light smack on the shoulder. He answered in a gentle voice.
“It doesn’t suit you.”
“What doesn’t?”
“That dress.”
Kyrie realised he was referring not to what she wore, but to the dress Elise had on. Their mother’s wedding dress, altered to Elise’s liking.
Her chest ached.
It stung more when she thought of the pendant that had once matched the gown so perfectly.
She had lashed out, unwilling to let it go. But the pain remained.
That pendant had been something that had helped her hold on for a long time. With it, she had believed, foolishly, that she might one day grasp happiness.
‘…I’ve lost it.’
A crushing sense of loss bore down on her.
The Grand Duke, hands as indecent as ever, kept a straight face as he spoke again.
“A mad dog doesn’t suit that kind of dress.”
“…”
“Something more…”
“Let me guess, something more like a jester’s rags?”
He raised an eyebrow as though she’d said something perfectly obvious.
“Strategically, yes.”
“And yet you didn’t dress me that way today.”
“Seems it worked out better this way.”
“…”
“A jester’s speech wouldn’t have landed nearly so well.”
“You’d call that a speech?”
“You spoke the right words at the right moment. That is a speech.”
He always spoke with such conviction.
Kyrie listened in silence before responding in a brittle voice.
“Sounds like you’re trying to offer advice again.”
“Hm.”
“That dress didn’t suit you anyway. Just say what’s appropriate at the right time.”
“You’re only lowering your spirits with needless self-deprecation. You’re not a bad hand to play, not at all.”
“Because I know my place?”
The jab slipped out before she could stop it, but the Grand Duke didn’t flinch. He gazed at her intently and replied.
“That’s one of your virtues, actually. Most people don’t.”
Kyrie met his eyes without looking away.
“Whether it suited me or not never mattered.”
She hadn’t meant to speak so honestly.
Even if she couldn’t wear it, just holding it would have been enough. Just like her mother’s pendant.
‘If only I hadn’t even known it existed.’
That might’ve been easier.
Her chest ached. What she hated most was the thought that the dress would now be remembered as Elise’s.
Even if it was lost to her forever.
And in that moment, Kyrie understood exactly what she was feeling.
An aching sense of loss, followed by loneliness.
The moment she realised it, her eyes shimmered faintly.
The Grand Duke stared at her intently and asked.
“Did you want it?”
“…”
She didn’t want to answer. Admitting it would feel far too pathetic.
Or rather, she already,
Without realising, Kyrie let out a breath and rested her head against his shoulder. The Grand Duke ran his hand along her spine and whispered.
“It’s a dress people will forget soon enough.”
It was as if he had read her mind.
“What…”
Before she could ask what he meant, his low voice spilled against her ear.
“If it gets out that the Grand Duke and Duchess did this during a banquet to celebrate the Crown Prince’s engagement…”
“…”
“No one will be talking about the dress anymore.”
