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Chapter 12
They could feel each other’s breath.
How long had they been kissing?
Clinging to each other and sharing kisses like they were the only two people left in the world—she hadn’t even noticed when all other presences around them had vanished.
Realizing the silence around them, she lifted her hand and gently pushed his shoulder.
“…?”
The man pulled back from her, licking his upper lip with a red tongue, and looked down at her.
His dizzying gaze and heated breath made her head spin.
Even though they had just been kissing and holding each other, it still didn’t feel real.
Yet, the intense way he looked at her made her painfully aware that what had happened could not be undone.
Oh… dear God.
She had lost count of how many times she had prayed today already.
Fanning her flushed face with her hand, she bowed her head so low it looked like she was about to sink to the floor.
“You can lean on me if you want.”
“No, I’m fine…”
Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw that he was still staring at her.
His eyes, beautiful enough to be wasted on just her, shimmered with warmth—but now wasn’t the time to be captivated by them.
As the heat in her face faded, a complicated wave of emotions rushed in to replace it.
To think she’d actually end up using that artifact she swore she’d never need.
If Kistchel found out, he’d probably clutch his neck and mutter, “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Ashdewa.”
She said his name and looked down at her fingers. The spot where the ring had been was now completely bare.
As if nothing had happened.
And with his next words, she felt she had truly crossed the point of no return.
“Call me Ash.”
Taking her hand, Ashdewa brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it with a soft “mwah.”
As he slowly pulled his lips away, he opened his eyes slightly and looked at her—the man before her was so beautiful, it was tempting to believe he was a deity of beauty.
Knowing that those love-struck eyes were the result of a mind-control spell only darkened her heart with tangled emotions.
“This is the first time I’m asking something like this.”
“…”
“If you call my name with your own lips, I’d surely be the happiest man in the world.”
The man before her looked every bit the part of someone hopelessly in love—no more, no less.
She never imagined that the gaze of a man who desired her would feel so sweet.
She tried to back away, lips tightly pressed together, but it didn’t work.
It was the side effect of the artifact.
Specifically… the part that made her fulfill whatever he wished for.
“Ash.”
At the sound of her voice, Ashdewa let out a pleased breath.
All she had done was call his name in a dry tone, yet he looked so happy that she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“Yes, just like that. It sounds nice.”
“…”
Thank goodness.
It felt like she’d shackled herself in chains she could never break free from.
He was now bound to her forever.
Her mind felt completely blank.
He reached out and gently stroked the ends of her hair.
Strands of black slipped through his smooth, graceful fingers.
It was a clear gesture of affection.
He tilted his head slightly and locked eyes with her.
Surrounded by a forest-like calm, neither of them said a word.
Though she had felt a similar silence just moments before, this time the atmosphere was different.
They simply exchanged glances for a moment in silence.
“I want to know your name too. Won’t you tell me?”
He was the first to speak.
She knew he already knew who she was, so his question felt a bit irritating.
Yet the words that spilled from her lips were surprisingly honest.
“Inerua. Inerua Mertiel.”
Inerua Mertiel.
Ashdewa softly repeated her name.
It felt strange to hear her name spoken by him.
“Yes, I thought that name would belong to someone like you.”
The man whispering sweet nothings before her now was nothing like the man from that perilous night—so different, it was hard to believe they were the same person.
Just as she lowered her gaze from the faint smile on his lips, which he partially covered with the back of his hand…
He looked down at her feet and let out a quiet “Ah.”
Then, before she could react, he suddenly dropped to one knee.
“You could’ve hurt these lovely feet.”
“Huh? No, I’m fine.”
His pristine white trousers—surely made from expensive fabric—got soiled by the dirt ground.
She looked down at the man at her feet.
He wrapped both hands around her foot and helped her put her shoe back on.
Relieved to be standing firmly on the ground again, she quickly pulled him up.
If he made a “request,” she’d have no choice but to comply.
So, she decided to make her own request first.
“Ash, there’s somewhere I need to go right now.”
“Oh? Then I’ll take you.”
Ashdewa smiled.
“And in return?”
“I’ll come see you next time you call for me.”
A pleasant scent enveloped her whole body.
Cool yet deep—it matched him perfectly.
A rich, animalistic leather aroma, mixed with the crisp breeze of a winter lake… it was an odd yet alluring blend.
“If you make requests with that face, don’t you know it makes me want to refuse you?”
My face? What kind of face?
“I suppose I have no choice, then.”
His teasing voice brushed against her ear.
Every time his breath touched her, she tensed up like a turtle withdrawing into its shell.
The brilliant sunlight pouring over his smile made it hard to look at him.
✦ ✦ ✦
Kistchel paused while tidying the room and checked the time.
“It’s about time she returned.”
The room was already spotless, but he was rearranging everything to match Inerua’s taste. He had also replaced the chandelier lights and was unpacking the items they brought.
“Our young lady really is quite particular.”
As someone who had served Inerua since she was very young, Kistchel knew her preferences inside and out.
Thanks to that, the room was decorated exactly to her taste.
“This level of perfection deserves more than a few compliments.”
He murmured to himself with a faint smile as he looked around the room.
“But still, why hasn’t our lady returned? Do I need to go find her myself?”
Opening the door, he looked around at the people nearby, but his mistress was nowhere to be seen—not even a thread of her garments.
He swept his hair back in thought.
Kistchel and Inerua had known each other since they were children.
To be precise, he had known her for as long as he could remember.
His father was a viscount and the duke’s aide, managing a small territory in the frontier. He had two sons and a daughter.
Kistchel was the second son and the youngest in the family. Since he was close in age to Inerua, the duke had chosen him as her playmate.
Well… rather than “chosen,” it was probably more accurate to say they just assigned someone convenient.
Back then, Inerua hadn’t even been weaned yet, and Kistchel had just begun to toddle around.
Their bond had continued steadily ever since.
Just as he was about to go meet her, Kistchel paused.
Ah, I forgot something.
He rang the bell in the room.
When the maid entered, he greeted her politely with a smile.
“I’d like you to prepare some dessert for our young lady.”
“What would you like me to prepare?”
Judging by the time, Inerua would be enjoying afternoon tea if they were at the duke’s estate.
“A tray would be nice. Brew the black tea a bit stronger, and please serve the milk and sugar separately. As for desserts, financiers and dacquoise would be ideal. Her Ladyship is very sensitive about baking levels, so please make sure they’re well-baked.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Oh! No need to prepare cakes or macarons. Just the two types I mentioned will be enough. For fruit, whatever’s currently available, but make sure it’s something sweet, if possible.”
Kistchel expertly tailored the request to Inerua’s tastes, and the royal maid—who only served the noblest of nobles—confirmed his instructions before leaving.
With everything prepared in advance, she’d be able to eat as soon as she returned.
“Well then, time to go meet my lady?”
He stretched his arms out in front of him with a yawn as he mumbled to himself.
Suddenly, the open window fluttered, and he sensed someone approaching.
Kistchel instinctively reached inside his coat but froze mid-motion.
Right—he had turned in all his weapons upon entering the palace. There was nothing hidden in his clothes.
As he clenched his teeth in frustration, a familiar voice rang out.
“Kistchel…”
