103. What If I Speak?

2024.01.11.

Yuan stopped her half-turned body.

Just hearing that sweet, low voice she had longed for in dreams made her feel as if her breath would cease.

She took deep breaths for a long moment before slowly turning to look at him again.

Clade stood half-lit by the light flowing in from outside the door.

Half submerged in darkness, half bathed in light—his eyes were fixed precisely on Yuan’s tense face.

Yuan struggled to regain her composure and answered in a calm voice.

“I’ll be careful.”

Regardless of her heart’s wild beating, her body still felt unwell.

The agony of Clade, who had once desperately tried to rush out at dawn as if overjoyed to meet his former master, now writhed and struggled within her.

Yuan trembled slightly, clenched her fists tightly, and hid them behind her back. The handkerchief she held crumpled tightly in her hand as if wrung out.

If she let her guard down even slightly, pain would burst forth, spilling blood from her mouth—right before Clade’s eyes.

It was dangerous.

“How.”

Whether or not he sensed her anxiety, Clade’s lips twisted very slowly, releasing a voice colder than the silence between them.

As his hand released the doorknob, the outside cheerfulness and light began to fade away once more.

He took one step forward into the darkness where Yuan stood.

“How can you possibly be careful?”

The music filling Glory Hall slipped through the narrowing gap of the closing door, swirled between them, then abruptly cut off.

The bright music from the outside world kept pouring toward the sealed door, only to crash repeatedly against its surface.

Yuan felt as though the pianist’s lively fingers, skipping across the keys, were instead tapping inside her abdomen.

When she couldn’t see Clade, she suffered from longing; now that they were together, she suffered anew from being together.

“You seem very angry with me.”

Yuan replied, staring not into his piercing, all-seeing eyes, but at his tightly pressed lips.

“Don’t torment me with word games. If you want to take your anger out on me, just say so anytime.”

Yuan wished for his firm lips to soften even slightly.

She hoped he would lash out—call her a traitor, tell her she meant nothing, demand she vanish before his eyes.

On the day she left.

She had regretted not giving him a proper scolding, muttering bitterly about it.

So yes, that was what she wanted.

“If I speak.”

Not a reaction this turbulent.

Yuan felt, not with her eyes but with her skin, that a darkness deeper than this shadowed space existed.

A man like a towering wall slowly walked toward her.

In the moment she hoped against hope, he closed the final step and stood right before her.

The familiar scent and a strange new fragrance mingled, disorienting her mind.

His index finger, clad in a white glove, touched Yuan’s tightly pressed lower lip—like a parent scolding a mischievous child.

It wasn’t a hard poke, nor a caress—just a subtle gesture.

The tip of his finger, carrying a bold teasing glint, slowly traced downward along her delicate chin, the hair beneath her ear, and the fine hairs standing erect on her neck.

Yuan could do nothing but surrender her body helplessly, unable to even breathe.

His firm fingertip caught on Yuan’s ornate sapphire necklace.

He didn’t remove his hand, ignoring the large, elaborate obstacle as if it meant nothing.

-Ting.

-Ting.

Ten sapphires, and each tiny diamond decoration strung between them—each was retraced by his hand.

One sapphire, five diamonds, a hidden clasp bone, then another sapphire…

His rough fingertip, passing over two clasp bones and five sapphires, finally reached down and traced the deep, exposed hollow of her chest.

“What if I speak?”

The heat of his hand pierced through the glove and touched Yuan’s bare skin.

It felt as if time had completely stopped.

At her slight moment of fluster, he repeated the question, looking as though he could strip Yuan bare with just one finger.

His hot, firm index finger settled inside the inner fold of the taffeta fabric covering the deep cleft between her soft flesh.

His fingertip, precariously hooked on the edge of the elegantly draped silk fabric, slowly pulled it downward—as if trying to peek beneath.

“Hmm?”

Yuan stared into Clade’s darkened eyes, where a cruel light lingered. Despite the teasing, he remained terrifyingly calm.

Yuan felt every fine hair on her body stand on end, fearing that the pounding of her heart might transmit through his fingertip to him.

Trying her best to ignore the trembling in her facial muscles, Yuan looked straight up at him and said.

“If it brings Your Highness relief. Anything.”

Her lips moved on their own.

Only then did Yuan realize Clade might have overheard her conversation with Regina.

Though the distance wasn’t close, if he had focused his attention on the dialogue between the two shadowed figures in the dark, rather than on the noblewoman with chestnut hair in his arms, it was entirely possible.

“It was all planned. There were limits to what I could get from the crown prince and Rocksenhart. I didn’t want dried meat or potato soup—I wanted the Pelliese family itself. You know, that’s not something just anyone can give.”

Someone seemed to have poured an entire bucket of ice water over Yuan’s head. Her excitement gradually cooled, and her mind grew cold.

If Clade had overheard her conversation with Regina, that would actually be fortunate.

Clade needed to despise her even more—perhaps even come to hate her.

She hadn’t intended to confront him like this to unsettle him, but since it had come to this, there was no way to avoid it.

Yuan was certain he would despise her more for standing here boldly than if he had simply lowered his head and pretended not to see her.

But surprisingly.

Clade Euphris did not show on his face the contempt he had worn when she left him.

His sharply shadowed features remained composed, neither twisted nor distorted, exuding ease—and for an instant, even sensuality.

“I could order you to lift your skirt right here, right now.”

“!”

“I could also strangle you to death.”

This time, his hot hand moved toward Yuan’s neck. Her slender neck was easily grasped in one hand.

Clade tilted his head slightly, looking down at her.

Neatly combed golden strands of hair scattered loosely across his forehead.

He resembled a demon who would seduce her for the night and strangle her before dawn.

Yuan’s eyes trembled violently.

‘I wish you would just kill me.’

If only there weren’t terrible people tormenting you in this world, I would gladly take your hands and place them around my neck.

Instead of his burning touch.

A suffocating tension tightened around Yuan’s throat.

Feeling the agony inside her body thrashing fiercely, she struggled to stay alert and keep her composure.

‘I ran away so I wouldn’t die in front of you.’

So I wouldn’t become your nightmare.

I would do anything.

But I cannot die by his hand.

As footsteps echoing through the vast corridor slowly approached from behind, Yuan straightened her posture and pulled away from his grasp.

“Whatever else you may do, killing me would be difficult. The man I’ve chosen isn’t just any ordinary noble.”

Bollonico was striding toward them proudly.

Regina followed closely behind, having apparently spied on Clade and Yuan’s conversation—and then quickly run off to inform Bollonico.

Clade, who had been standing still upon hearing their approach, stretched his lips into a smile.

“As expected.”

That was the last exchange.

***

Yuan stood leaning against a pillar, barely a step away from collapsing.

Despite her vividly painted lips, her face was completely devoid of color.

Clutching a new handkerchief tightly in her hand—given by the Empress’s elderly maid—Yuan was pushed along wherever Bollonico led.

She was the central figure of the scandal everyone whispered about, the trophy proving Bollonico’s victory, and at the same time, she exerted all her strength to practice her abilities.

Bollonico’s proud, subtle voice.

Strangers’ praises and greetings. Kisses on the back of her hand. And the screams and fainting of a few others.

Since overexertion and injuries from collisions were common at such parties, the moans of people feeling unwell due to Yuan’s abilities were not considered particularly rare.

This year, the only impression was that the party was especially chaotic and wild.

Weaving through the crowd of gentlemen mostly dressed in dark attire, Yuan naturally let her gaze drift toward the group of women adorned in every beautiful color imaginable.

Clade Euphris.

The young, beautiful crown prince, who today would officially become Clade Rocksenhart.

Married, but separated.

A man rumored to have recently summoned countless women to his bed—perhaps soon to become the most infamous rake in the Empire.

Women drawn to his languid, dangerous aura surrounded him like moths leaping into flames.

Whether from curiosity, desire, or other motives.

Once eyes were drawn to Clade, they refused to look away.

“He’s really made up his mind today.”

“Clade? Or those ladies?”

“Both. I expected it, but rumors will spread on their own without any effort.”

The Rev brothers, standing in a corner of Glory Hall and sharply observing the crowd, spoke while surveying Clade’s surroundings.

“Bollonico may be parading a fine trophy, but since Clade is the main attraction today, he won’t be able to mock Clade freely.”

“Eddie. Clade came here today to make himself a laughingstock.”

“But how could someone born as the sun ever become a joke, even if he’s known as a libertine?”

Eddie murmured, his voice a mix of worry and pride.

“Look. See how people who aren’t flocking to Bollonico are looking at Clade.”

The faces of several elderly nobles, who had glanced briefly at the clean-faced, perfectly composed crown prince, were now overcome with shock.

Among them, some secretly felt moved.