DDP 14

chapter 14

Belita turned around.
Roman’s bright, light-green eyes were completely reflected in Belita’s cold, dark-green ones.

“What do you mean by that, Viscount?”

Belita feigned ignorance and asked. Roman’s cheeks flushed red as he replied.

“I thought a lady like you would understand…”

Up close, Roman’s face was even more handsome than she had thought.

“So he had dimples when he smiled.”

But his cheeky answer only made her raise an eyebrow. Belita slipped a hand behind her and pulled the doorknob, stepping backward into the room.

“I really don’t know what you’re suddenly going on about.”

“…You’re very beautiful.”

“And what does my being beautiful have to do with us becoming lovers?”

Was he really that desperate to flirt? Perhaps he thought the last hour of warming up the mood had been enough, because Roman came straight to the point.

“…At first, I only intended to suggest we form a friendly relationship.”

With a shrug, Belita crossed her arms and gestured with her chin for him to continue.

“But my eyes don’t lie. I thought it only natural that you should have me.”

“So in other words, you desire me, and since I’m more beautiful, you’re asking if I’d like to live up to my looks… Is that it?”

“It sounds a little harsh when you put it like that.”

For every step of distance between them, Roman moved one step closer. Belita retreated two more.

In truth, the situation was somewhat amusing.

Though she was pretending to be Sylvester’s lover, Belita was, at her core, a demon. And for demons, concepts like chastity or morality were utterly meaningless.

“You think I haven’t dealt with your kind before?”

Belita lifted one corner of her red lips. Of course. She understood now—this was why he had invited her to his mansion and personally shown her around.

“That’s only natural. No man could remain indifferent to you. It’s a wonder you stayed in such a small village without rumors spreading.”

Roman took two more steps forward.

“Of course there were no rumors. I only just woke from a long slumber.”

This time Belita moved back three steps.

Roman followed three steps as well, bringing them both fully inside the room.

Over Roman’s shoulder, she caught sight of white-and-black uniforms—servants had appeared without her noticing and closed the door.

Neither of them broke eye contact as they kept closing the distance. Belita’s calves brushed against a sofa. She let herself sink onto it without resistance.

Plop. The cushion sagged as her body pressed into it. Roman took the final steps forward, placing his hands on either armrest, caging her in.

She had always known he liked her—that much was obvious, and something she had seen countless times across her long life.

“Only a fool wouldn’t notice. Still, I thought he’d just throw a few cheesy lines and leave it at that.”

Who would have expected him to be so brazen, taking advantage of Sylvester’s absence?

Belita recalled the many men she had been with ages ago. None of their faces remained in her memory.

Her smile deepened. She reached out and stroked Roman’s chest.

At once, his body leaned toward her as if waiting for that cue.

“You’re in quite a hurry…”

“Why do you think I told your lover to sell me that portrait?”

“I overheard it was for collecting purposes.”

A chuckle slipped from her lips. Her fingers slid inside his vest, brushing the cravat at his throat.

The cream-colored fabric tightened as Roman’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“That too… but look. You’re flawless.”

“So what?”

“I fell in love at first sight—with that painting. I tried to buy it, only to learn the woman in it was real. Then, suddenly, the woman from the canvas stood before me. Tell me, which would draw more attention?”

“So you tried to buy the painting, but when I appeared, you wanted me instead. From the way it sounds, it’s less about giving yourself to me and more about demanding that I give myself to you.”

With her other hand, Belita pressed down on Roman’s shoulder, pulling him closer. He bent further toward her.

“…I only meant—don’t waste all your time on that painter. Meet me too. Lady, life is short, and it’s good to experience a variety of people…”

Belita rolled her tongue inside her mouth. Amusing. Anyone listening might think he had lived far longer than she had.

“Life is short, and it’s good to meet many kinds of people?”

I think the opposite.

Her left hand tugged lightly at his cravat. Roman stretched his neck, uncomfortable, his throat standing out.

“Shall I loosen it?”

His large hand covered hers, fingers slipping beneath the knot as if to undo it completely.

“No.”

Instead, Belita smiled sweetly and tightened it neatly around his neck.

Then she brushed his shoulders a few times as if straightening his clothes.

“Why…?”

Roman blinked at her firm tone.

“Why do you think? You’re the one who gave me the same room as Sylvester.”

He was born in the wrong era. Had he been born a few centuries earlier, perhaps they might have shared an intimate night.

Thinking that, Belita gave him a meaningless smile.

Deflated, Roman lowered his head, then pulled back his hands. Straightening up, he ruffled his hair in frustration.

“This is hard… seducing a beauty.”

“And you thought you were the one being coy?”

Spending time with Roman wouldn’t have been difficult.

She had her own tastes, her own desires, and she was, after all, a demon who felt attraction.

She had known love.

But Roman wasn’t that man.

“Don’t waste more time. Go.”

Belita’s faint smile dulled. Losing interest, she rested her chin on her hand and turned toward the window.

The lush lawn of the Barcen estate shimmered under golden light.

The scenery was always the same—like the colors of eternal summer.

From the depths of Belita’s memory, a familiar vision emerged.

It rose like smoke: hazy, not quite present, yet clearer than any mere delusion. A past named nightmare.

Her consciousness stepped back through time—hundreds, perhaps thousands of years—into that nightmare. Soft grass bent beneath her feet.

Belita stood at the threshold of a radiant summer.

“It’s true. This field looks exactly like your eyes.”

“Really? My eyes are closer to the night than to greenery. There can’t be such a field…”

“Belita, you don’t know how much your eyes shine. These days, even seeing the trees around me reminds me of you…”

Kessis’s laughter rang like a child’s—bright and innocent.

It drifted like wind through leaves, distant yet achingly nostalgic.

“Trees? You can see those from your room’s window every day.”

“Exactly.”

In Kessis’s hands were expensive tools for the time: brushes, natural pigments, black ink, and a palette.

“No easel or stool?”

“I already carried them ahead.”

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve brought them in a moment.”

“I want everything needed to capture you to be my own responsibility.”

The path they walked felt like something out of a dream.

A vast meadow spread out, trees gathered to form shaded woodland paths, patches of cool shadow lay beneath a clear blue sky.

The breeze rustled flowers and grasses; white clouds above heralded the start of summer.

The world seemed to hold only the two of them.

That day, Belita thought for the first time that she liked a forest path.

For a demon who once soared with great wings, this small crafted garden felt like a wondrous forest, vast nature, and—most of all—a sanctuary where she could hide from the sun with the one she loved.

Truthfully, anywhere would have been enough.

“Is it all right walking here? There were a lot of twigs, so I cleared them in advance.”

“You worked hard. Yes, it’s fine—nothing in the way.”

“Good… we’re almost there. This place is hidden beyond the brush, so no one ever comes here.”

“Then it really will be just you and me.”

“…Yes. That’s why I like it even more. No visitors, only us. I can focus entirely on painting you…”

What kind of expression had she worn that day?

Surely she was smiling—smiling so foolishly, so brightly, she must have looked like an idiot.

“Ah, do you see it? Right there.”

Belita walked along the widening path.

The trees shifted aside, and as the shadows broke, a brilliant blue light poured down from the sky.

There it was, just as Kessis had said—a vast, endless green field.

“Wow…”

At first sight, it stole away all her attention.

“See? I was right—it’s like your eyes, Belita.”

“…Yes.”

Of course, the brilliant green looked nothing like her eyes. Yet Belita answered as if entranced.

If he truly saw such a landscape within her irises, if he found the same peace in her that she now felt from this place… there was no reason to deny it.

A gentle breeze rose.

The wide field rippled like a great wave rolling in from afar.

At that moment, Belita saw the wind.

Glittering across the blades of grass, flowing in green waves, it looked as though the field itself were moving.

“…Beautiful.”

It was like the tongue of some great, invisible, docile beast licking across the earth.

Finally, the wave of green brushed against where Belita and Kessis stood. The instant it touched, her hair scattered behind her as if by magic.

“Belita, do you see that summit?”

“Yes.”

Her steps crunched softly through the grass, calves brushing past tall stalks. She drank in the fresh air and sunlight she might never feel again.

“That’s where I’ll paint the final picture today—right among those great stones.”

“Yes, I see it.”

Belita had been born a demon in her current form.

She was no human-born creature of conception or growth, and so she had never known childhood.

“…Then…”

But on that day, she thought perhaps she might have had such a time after all.

“Shall we run?”

If she didn’t have some remnant of childhood within her, if she wasn’t capable of the purity humans spoke of…

“Yes!”

…then she would never have been able to laugh so brightly, to run across the field, to tumble and roll, to feel joy even with grass stains on her clothes.

Never would she have discovered happiness in something so trivial and foolish.

“Belita, slow down a little!”

“Then hurry up! The wind here is amazing!”

Belita laughed freely. A long breeze licked coolly at her neck.

The fresh scent of grass seeped into her, sunlight filling her chest with warmth that seemed meant only for them.

She ran across the plain—past the quaint village below, past the forest where sunlight shimmered green. Across this paradoxical plateau, open and hidden at once.

“Haah… ha… You’re too fast…!”

“Pathetic stamina!”

“What do you expect from a painter… really…”

The place Kessis had spoken of came into view. Enormous stones stood like monuments, forming a circle at the plateau’s peak.

Belita leapt between two of them, as though passing through a gate.

“Arrived! I win, Kessis.”

“Haah… Sometimes, I just can’t handle you.”

“Haha, and what did you expect from a demon?”

She collapsed into the grass at the circle’s center. White blossoms burst skyward, then fluttered down around her.

The whiteness was dazzling, almost painful to the eyes. Belita stretched out her hand and grasped at the pure sunlight.

And she thought—

If this happiness could be given color, it would surely be a perfect white like the sun’s rays.

A saturated white, where all the colors of happiness in the world converged into one.