Chapter 4
The topic was even more interesting than before, and everyone showed a quiet but genuine curiosity.
As the noblewomen chatted about that delicate subject, their conversation naturally shifted to stories about children.
Mia was the only one in the group who did not have a child, so she simply listened in silence.
She had been married for over four years, but because of Dylan’s deployments, the Richard couple had never had the chance to have a child.
As that thought crossed their minds, one by one, the women fell silent.
Someone reached out gently and gave Mia a soft, comforting pat.
“You and His Grace will surely hear good news soon.”
To Mia, it was an unwelcome assumption.
But with all the noblewomen clearly watching her closely, there was no way she could show how unpleasant it felt.
She smiled softly, and only then did the tension in the room begin to ease.
Mistaking her smile as agreement, the noblewomen eagerly joined the conversation again.
“If a child were born between you two, they would be so beautiful.”
“Truly lovely. Everyone praises both of your appearances.”
“Whether it’s a son or daughter, the child would be loved dearly by both the people of Hippolyte and Murad.”
As she listened to their words, Mia lowered her gaze to her flat stomach.
A child. A child with Dylan.
The thought was as ridiculous as the time he had said they would live like a normal couple.
More than the nature of their relationship, it was her body that made the idea unrealistic. Years of abuse had left her physically weak, and the chances of conceiving or carrying a child were incredibly low.
Even if it was not Dylan, she knew there would never be a time when she would have a child with anyone.
More than anything, Mia never planned to stay in one place for long.
Still, life could be unpredictable. If by some chance she did become pregnant and give birth, she imagined the child would look better with golden hair that sparkled under sunlight, not the dull, washed-out sand color of her own.
And the eyes…
Lifting her gaze slowly from her stomach, Mia glanced around the hall. The noblewomen continued chatting nearby, filling the space with cheerful conversation.
As she calmly looked around the banquet hall, her eyes landed on Dylan.
He was surrounded by nobles, who were all talking endlessly beside him.
Normally, anyone would turn away out of distraction, but Dylan was looking directly at her.
Their eyes met.
Mia’s breath caught as she was drawn into his gaze, bright blue and glowing under the chandelier’s light.
Yes. That shade of blue would be beautiful.
She blinked, suddenly realizing what she had just imagined.
A child? With him?
What kind of hair would they have? What colors of the eyes?
The thought was not even worth laughing at.
It was not just foolish. It was unbelievable. So far from reality that it felt absurd even to imagine.
“What is it?”
His question was blunt, as if he had just come across something he didn’t like. The low tone of his voice brushed past Mia’s ear, making her brows twitch again.
“Don’t worry about it.”
She answered calmly as she moved her foot in time with the slow rhythm of the waltz. She didn’t meet his eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on his chest.
“Mia Blair.”
“Yes.”
“I asked what the problem is.”
“Focus on the dance. Stop talking.”
Her reply came out sharper than expected, a little irritated. It wasn’t like her at all. Even to her own ears, the tone felt unfamiliar and too harsh.
Maybe she had sounded like this when she was a child, around seven years old. But she no longer remembered what her voice had been like then.
At one point, she had stopped speaking altogether just to avoid being abused. Later, when she had to act like a princess, she spoke with a soft and gentle tone because it was expected of her.
This kind of voice and tone was never something she had wanted. But it was pointless to think about that now.
When something becomes deeply ingrained in your body over time, it eventually becomes second nature.
A faint sigh slipped out between her lips, carrying the weight of quiet resignation.
No one would notice a bit of irritation like this, she told herself.
Still, just in case, she reminded herself to be more careful going forward.
Just then, Dylan spoke again.
“Why are you irritated?”
His voice was more persistent than before, and her body tensed up without her realizing it.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“I’ve asked three times.”
The hand he had placed at her side moved to her waist, pulling her closer.
Their bodies were now pressed tightly together.
The place she had imagined a child might one day grow was now touching him. Her dress was not thin, but the fabric clung to her body. Through it, she could feel his warmth.
The thoughts she had tried to push away slowly returned, one by one, filling the space she had tried so hard to keep empty.
“Mia Blair.”
That was the second time.
It was the second time Dylan had called her by name.
Before he left for the battlefield, he had always insisted on formal terms like “you” or “milady.” But ever since he returned three years later, he had kept using her name.
The name she thought no one would ever call again.
“Stop saying it. What if someone hears you?”
Mia knew better than anyone that no one would.
They were the central figures of the peace celebration, performing the first dance in the grand hall. And there was no one else around them.
No one would hear a single word he said.
Still, no matter what excuse she gave herself, Mia did not want to hear her name coming from Dylan’s mouth. Especially not after having such a foolish thought.
“Lift your head.”
She stayed silent.
“You should look your partner in the eyes, Mia.”
His voice was calm, almost like he was gently scolding a child. It made Mia even more uncomfortable. She ignored him and kept her gaze fixed ahead. Even though she didn’t respond, Dylan didn’t press further.
Just like before, silence settled between them. Music filled the hall, but to Mia, everything felt quiet and still. She didn’t know why, but the silence felt heavier than the sound.
Maybe it was the weight of the mood. Her whole body had gone stiff, from their joined hands to the muscles in her back. The tempo of the waltz soon changed, growing faster. Their feet followed the rhythm, quickening slightly.
Mia’s steps started to falter, and before she could correct herself, she stepped on Dylan’s foot.
Startled by her own mistake, she quickly looked up at him. Dylan hadn’t turned his eyes away from her, not even for a moment.
His expression remained unreadable. As usual, he looked calm, almost cold, and then he spoke.
“Well done.”
Was he mocking her for stepping on him?
She couldn’t tell what he meant. She tried to read into his tone, but it was hard to concentrate. Her stomach was pressed against his, and it was too warm. His hand on her waist felt hot, almost burning, and his eyes were still locked onto hers.
Not even five minutes had passed, but it felt like an eternity.
Mia couldn’t understand what she had been thinking. She had just finished the dance, exchanged a polite farewell with Dylan, and stepped away from the center of the hall. Other nobles began filling the space again. The banquet was truly beginning now.
She scanned the room as she walked beside Dylan. Her breathing was still uneven from the dance, and fatigue crept into her body after being so tense.
Her eyes felt dry, but she told herself she needed to endure it. The evening had only just begun.
When they reached the far end of the hall, Mia slowly loosened her hand.
Now she needed to return to her role as Seydimia. It was time to reconnect with the other noblewomen. This was the perfect moment to part ways with Dylan.
“Dylan, let go of my hand.”
She spoke quietly but clearly. Even so, Dylan did not release her. Instead, he continued walking toward the exit of the hall, still holding on to her.
“Dylan?”
“Are we going somewhere to talk? If you have something to say, we can go to the terrace or a nearby room. Where are you taking me?”
He said nothing.
He continued forward without pause, his steps steady.
Left with no choice, Mia followed after him.
After walking for quite some time, they arrived at the spot where the carriage had been waiting when they first came to the banquet.
The coachman, already talking with Dylan and seemingly well informed, quickly opened the carriage door with practiced ease and offered a polite greeting.
Mia’s eyes narrowed at Dylan’s actions. He clearly intended to leave the palace immediately.
“Aren’t you going to explain anything?”
“I think this is enough. Let’s return to the residence.”
“Do you even realize who the guest of honor is tonight?”
“The main guests are supposed to leave early. That’s how it works.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“I’m tired.”
Dylan definitely had a way of shutting people down. With just a few unreasonable and impossible-to-argue words, he made her forget how to respond.
“Then go ahead and return first. I’ll stay and handle things here.”
She felt his grip begin to loosen.
But the next moment, he held on even tighter.
With a calm expression as steady as still water, he spoke again.
“You are the one who’s tired.”
