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Chapter 21
Whether noble or not, Anais belongs to me. Someone like you can’t take her away.
Licio asked Carla in a cold, icy voice:
“Evidence?”
“Not yet… but I can find it.”
Licio, who would have destroyed the evidence immediately if it existed, could only let out a hollow laugh.
“Did you come to me just based on speculation?”
“My father’s garden is so dark. Even now, you can’t tell what flowers are there. So, figuring out which flower was plucked long ago is even harder.”
A garden belonging to her father. Such a refined and beautiful expression—it made irritation rise like a storm.
Licio knew that the garden referred to Carla’s father, Duke Marcel’s private residence.
He also knew it was a place where mistresses gathered.
But aside from that, he had no patience for waiting around while she spoke in circles.
“You should know when and where to speak, Carla. This isn’t a tea party with me. Don’t open your mouth without clear evidence.”
At his grim warning, Carla’s shoulders twitched.
“My mother saw it! Anais’s biological mother, at my father’s private residence!”
The Dukes of Devesse and Marcel—the so-called two pillars supporting the empire—had a period when their families actively interacted.
Young Licio had visited Duke Marcel’s residence several times, and it must have been one of those days.
He had asked his mother, who was enjoying tea with the Duchess of Marcel:
“Where is Father?”
Setting down her teacup, his mother smiled elegantly.
“He’s probably discussing politics with Duke Marcel. Licio, you look bored. Would you like to go for a short walk with me?”
His cold mother had invited him for a walk—and even held his hand.
His hand ached from her strong grip, but to a boy starved for affection, the pain didn’t matter.
After walking for some time, a beautiful private residence appeared before Licio’s eyes.
“Look carefully, Licio. This is where the mistresses live. Men come and go—no different from a red-light district.”
“Why in a place like this…”
“Didn’t you come looking for your father?”
His mother’s gaze was like a white blade piercing Licio’s chest.
The cold air brushed against his small hand, roughly pushed away.
His mother turned away coldly—a clear rejection directed at him.
Still, Licio followed his merciless mother, silent, careful not to disturb her.
Back at her seat, his mother resumed tea as if nothing had happened, while Licio dared not raise his head.
He let out a bitter laugh at how ridiculous it all was.
He lazily rolled his eyes toward Carla.
“Anais’s biological mother is Duke Marcel’s mistress?”
“Yes!”
Carla’s shameless, gloating expression made Licio’s face harden coldly.
“Are you claiming Anais is your half-sister?”
No. That’s impossible. If Anais were Duke Marcel’s daughter, his greed would have forced him into this marriage somehow.
“That’s absolutely not true!”
Carla’s face twisted as if in shock.
Her answer almost sounded like a reluctant affirmation—perhaps she didn’t know herself.
Clearly, she didn’t know.
“You’re wasting my time on something uncertain, Carla Marcel.”
Startled by Licio’s sharp words, Carla went pale.
“If she were my father’s daughter, why would she have been entrusted to the Rahone family? My mother said she’s a filthy child whose parentage can’t be known.”
No. Carla still didn’t seem to know her father’s true identity.
He recalled going to the slums with his mother as a child to meet a mistress expelled from Duke Marcel’s private residence.
“She had black hair like my mother, but her appearance resembled Duke Marcel. Thankfully.”
Even though he had never met her, that mistress also had a son.
Duke Marcel was cold-hearted enough to abandon even his illegitimate child in the slums.
If he entrusted Anais to the Rahone family, there must have been a reason.
“Bring me evidence.”
“You don’t like this marriage either, do you?”
Licio found Carla’s behavior, threatening his marital life, disgusting.
“Duke, if you bring evidence, we can—”
All these selfish people were becoming tiresome.
And unwanted memories surged, making him want to leave and go to Anais immediately.
“Bring it, and then we’ll talk again.”
Carla nodded repeatedly with a wide smile.
The scent of her perfume pricked Licio’s nose as he coldly left the reception room.
Naturally, Licio hurried to Anais’s room.
Though it wasn’t bedtime, the lights were all out, and the room was dark.
Licio strode across the room to her bed without hesitation. She was always on the bed.
“Sleeping?”
Lifting the bulging blankets, Licio’s face contorted.
Of course, Anais wasn’t there.
Seeing the empty bed made Licio feel suffocated.
“Where did Anais go?”
He urgently asked Dorothy, but her confused expression only tightened the grip on his heart.
“She said she’d sleep early… I’ll go look for her.”
The Duke’s household went into an uproar. Licio had ordered the staff to search for Anais.
“When she went to the former Duke’s study, she said she wanted to read the old books! Could she have gone there?”
Upon hearing this, Licio went straight to his father’s study. As soon as he opened the door, he knew she was there—the smell of alcohol hit him immediately.
Licio closed the door again and told Dorothy:
“It seems Anais fell asleep reading the old books.”
“I’ll take her.”
Licio blocked Dorothy from entering the study.
“I’ll bring her. Tell everyone she’s been found and to rest.”
“Yes, Duke.”
After confirming Dorothy left, Licio slowly entered the study.
He took a handful of her hair from the desk where she lay face down, smoothing it before he could finally breathe.
He let out a hollow laugh.
She wanted to read old books? A convenient excuse to fool the maid.
She wasn’t reading scholarly works. There were no books on the desk, only empty bottles. Clearly, her purpose was alcohol from the start.
Impressive—she had drunk, all at once, fine whiskey over a hundred years old, usually consumed in small sips.
With a deep sigh, Licio shook the little shoulders of the drunken girl.
“Hey.”
“Ugh…”
At her groaning, he carefully helped her sit up.
The mark pressed on her forehead showed how long she had been in that state.
“You found the bottles in the corner, clever little thief.”
“Thief…?”
Her eyelids slowly opened, revealing green eyes.
“Coming to your senses?”
“Licio?”
It was the first time she had said his name. Licio paused, then a smile spread across his face.
“Did you drink all this alone? Whiskey isn’t meant to be drunk like wine.”
“My throat burned.”
She stretched her neck, running her hand over it.
His gaze fixed on the smooth white line of her neck.
Her slow, sticky speech, flushed face, and wobbling body made Licio’s Adam’s apple twitch twice.
“Let’s go to your room.”
As he tried to lift her, she swung her arms to push him away.
“It’s hot!”
He barely restrained himself. Anais, feeling frustrated, even pulled at her dress.
“Insane,” he muttered.
Licio took several deep breaths—the heat between them was intense.
He coaxed the wild drunken girl, finally managing to carry her down the hallway, while her small hands slapped his chest.
“Go! Run!”
He let out a bitter laugh.
That smile stayed on his face the entire walk down the hallway.
Once in her room, he laid her down on the bed and sat at the edge, troubled.
He wondered if he should sleep elsewhere—he didn’t know when he might lose control.
Anais’s hand wandered, finally grabbing his hand and pulling him closer.
“Why?”
Don’t, Anais. I can’t hold back. He gave a warning glance, but it didn’t reach her.
“Ugh… maybe from pushing the cart? My arms hurt, massage them a bit.”
“Hah.”
He had intended to leave, but she had grabbed him—fearlessly.
Licio gently laid her down and placed his hand on her small shoulder. The soft touch sent shivers up his arm.
“Good.”
Encouraged by her sweet voice, he focused fully.
“It hurts!”
“Sorry.”
Her fragile body seemed it could break with even the slightest pressure.
Yet, that made his heart beat all the faster.
The ribbon on her back irritated him, so he carefully untied it, silent as a whisper.
Slide—smoothly, the ribbon loosened, and desire followed.
