When Pride Falls at Your Feet (19 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 7
I glared at Giorgio with a pitiful look as he unnecessarily deepened his voice in an attempt to sound solemn, then subtly lowered my gaze as if hiding it.
“So, shall we go ahead and accept His Grace’s proposal for now?”
“I suppose we must. But listen.”
“Yes?”
“Are you really going to settle for mere sponsorship? Right now is when your worth is at its peak—if you waste your prime years on just sponsorship, won’t you become a hopeless burden? So, you should try seducing His Grace yourself.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Don’t play innocent. His Grace is a man—do you really think he’s only interested in watching you dance? I’m telling you, take this chance to offer him your body.”
I’d known from the start that he was a scheming man, but even so, Giorgio’s audacity in blatantly saying such things to his own niece surpassed anything I could have imagined.
The humiliation, no matter how often I braced myself for it, never grew familiar; it finally cast a shadow over my teal-colored eyes.
“If His Grace becomes utterly infatuated with you, you might even become the Duchess—or even if that doesn’t happen, surely you could live as His Grace’s concubine. The Michele family is second only to the royal family in wealth, after all. Money like that? Heh heh.”
Emilia wanted nothing more than to wash her ears immediately and seal Giorgio’s foul-smelling mouth shut with plaster—so thoroughly that he couldn’t speak, no, couldn’t even breathe, filling every orifice with plaster.
“Are you going to keep ignoring me? If you don’t want an old man to repeat himself again and again, you’d better answer properly. Huh?!”
Yet, as if refusing to face this powerless reality she had to endure, she lowered her head deeply and squeezed her eyes shut. Until she uncovered the truth—that’s how long she would endure it. Emilia silently repeated this resolve to herself over and over.
[This is the timeline separator]Versicona Street was an affluent residential district situated southward from Desiro, the capital. Countless townhouses lined the area, each flaunting its wealth, but the undisputed standout among them was Duke Enrico Michele’s townhouse—a mansion rivaling the grand country estates.
So majestic was the Duke’s D-shaped residence that many longed to visit it, yet it remained a fortress that opened its doors to no one without explicit permission.
Only those granted approval by the Duke himself could enter, but since such approvals were exceedingly rare, public curiosity only grew stronger, and countless unverified rumors circulated endlessly.
Enrico, seated before a pristine rectangular terrace window, slowly rose from his seat.
His gaze swept past the verdant garden and the grand fountain adorned with numerous human statues at its center, toward the main gate—where he spotted a carriage entering the estate.
Amidst all that passed through his gates by his own selection, it had been quite some time since something living had entered.
His half-lidded eyes flickered with interest. Moments later, Emilia Este stepped down from the carriage parked before the mansion, clad in a deep navy-blue burnous coat. Her skin, bathed in sunlight, appeared strikingly translucent.
‘She’d better be worth it.’
Though he’d swiftly finalized the contract—having taken a rare liking to her at first sight—it would grow dull if she only maintained the same guarded attitude as during their first meeting.
They only needed to exchange what each desired; unnecessary emotional friction would merely kill the intrigue. Her timid blinking, reminiscent of a frightened deer, had been somewhat worth watching—but that was all.
After all, what had intrigued him from the start was Emilia Este when she danced.
Enrico turned his back and casually skimmed through the papers placed on the table.
‘I should first inform her about the intentionality behind the carriage accident.’
What he’d previously dismissed as insignificant now proved unexpectedly useful for their contract. Though the incident had occurred long ago, he was confident he could still uncover the precise details if he investigated properly.
Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. Enrico set down the papers and walked toward the door instead of replying—ready to welcome Emilia Este, who was willingly stepping in to become his dancing puppet.
[This is the timeline separator]As he’d instructed, Emilia was seated in the sun-drenched glass conservatory. Unlike the mansion’s interior—resembling a gallery brimming with lavish paintings and sculptures—the conservatory faithfully served its purpose, filled with fragrant floral scents and warm air.
Though the estate naturally included every imaginable luxury, a conservatory open to the sky rather than one with frescoed ceilings seemed an oddly mismatched choice for him.
Enrico gave a brief nod as greeting when she rose from her seat upon his entry.
“Sit.”
“Yes. I intended to visit you first, but it seems I’ve arrived a bit late.”
Emilia Este remained as composed as ever. The only difference from their first meeting was that back then, she’d barely managed to conceal her trembling; now, she appeared almost emotionless.
Or perhaps merely dumbfounded—after all, Fabio had practically dragged her here right after she submitted her application to the Avaliante Ballet Company.
“You are late. Your uncle visited me yesterday—I expected you at dawn.”
Tea and desserts were swiftly set on the table—but only before Emilia. Before Enrico sat a clear glass filled with amber-colored brandy.
Leaning back against the chair, Enrico crossed one leg over the other and leisurely lifted his glass, rotating his wrist slowly to swirl the brandy.
“Ah… I waited until afternoon, fearing I’d disturb you too early—but I never imagined you’d be waiting for me instead.”
“I was just growing bored. I wonder how long you intend to stall to entertain me.”
A faint blush tinged Emilia’s cheeks. Enrico watched her silently as her expression shifted with unmistakable humiliation, then drank his brandy impassively. The warm liquid trailing down his esophagus roused his languid body.
“…I heard from my uncle. You’re offering business investment. Is that included in the contract?”
“Yes. I dislike hearing excuses about lack of focus. I’ll create the perfect environment so you can devote yourself entirely to fulfilling my expectations—you must satisfy my eyes in return.”
After a moment of hesitation, Emilia nodded decisively, as if having made up her mind.
“Then, could you please explain the terms of the contract in detail?”
“This is the contract. And this envelope is your first reward should you agree to it.”
Enrico pushed the pre-prepared documents across the table toward Emilia. Her eyes immediately fixed on the envelope he’d called a “reward,” rather than the contract itself.
“…Is this what you mentioned before—the truth about the accident?”
“More precisely, a fragment of the truth. The longer the contract lasts, the more you’ll come to know.”
“A fragment of the truth,” Emilia murmured softly. She wasn’t hesitating—only a brief flicker of uncertainty crossed her face before she reached for the contract.
Enrico, still holding his glass to his lips, never took his eyes off her. Bathed in sunlight, her platinum hair cascaded along her perfectly proportioned shoulders, making her appear far more radiant than when he’d first seen her step from the carriage.
Though her appearance still didn’t satisfy him as much as when she danced, this added clarity to her presence pleased him considerably more.
‘It’s a shame I can’t have her wear crystal lighting wherever she goes.’
Recalling the crystal lamps installed beside every displayed artwork, Enrico slowly sipped his brandy. The warmth traveled from his throat to his chest, and his gaze drifted from her empty ears down to her neck.
‘Perhaps I should adorn her with jewels.’
Ordinarily, she suited transparent diamonds more than colorful gemstones.
While genuine art was best preserved in its original state, Emilia Este’s worth was defined solely by her ballet—so compromises had to be made for her off-stage appearance, as long as they didn’t diminish her essence.
These were considerations he’d never needed when sponsoring other artists; it felt refreshingly novel. Before, he’d focused only on their finished works or performances, and had never once found an artist’s appearance personally appealing—thus, this situation had now become intriguing in itself.
Of course, watching her dance again would be the greatest pleasure.
Enrico stared intently at Emilia as she read the contract with careful attention, then downed the rest of his brandy in one gulp.
“Should I prepare a room for you to stay?”
“Excuse me?”
Emilia looked up, eyes wide, as he gestured toward the contract with his chin and set his glass down on the table.
“In case you can’t finish reading it all today.”
“Oh… I’m sorry. Legal terminology makes it rather difficult to read quickly.”
“It’s not that complicated. Simply put: you’ll dance for me three times in my mansion, and in return, I’ll hand over evidence once.”
Despite his indifferent tone, the corners of his eyes softened gently. Though he collected artworks, he wasn’t one to frequently admire them—making this contract with her a matter requiring careful consideration.
Giving her investigation results after every performance would be too disadvantageous for him, yet demanding too many dances might compromise the quality of her art. Considering the time needed to gather evidence, once every two weeks seemed reasonable—roughly three dances for one piece of evidence.
“If I sign the contract, will you tell me something right away?”
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
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