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chapter 55
“Do you have something to say?”
Seraret blinked in puzzlement at Yuan, who had come to see her late at night.
“You’ve worked hard preparing for the party.”
Yuan strode toward her.
“It was fun. More than I expected.”
Still, since she had experienced it once in her previous life, it hadn’t been too difficult.
“I’m glad.”
Nodding lightly, Yuan stepped closer.
When Seraret tried to retreat, Yuan caught her arm and pulled her nearer. Then he held out a case.
“What is this?”
“A necklace.”
“A necklace?”
Seraret frowned. A necklace? Whose necklace? She looked confused, and Yuan shook the case slightly as if urging her to take it.
“Don’t tell me… it’s for me?”
“Who else would it be for? Do you think it’s mine?”
Yuan chuckled at Seraret’s wide-eyed expression.
While browsing in a department store, one necklace had caught his eye—a pearl necklace that seemed perfect for her.
The soft glow of the pure white pearls reminded him of Seraret’s fair skin, and heat crept up the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and asked the clerk to show it to him.
His wife insisted on holding her own leash—well, buying her a pretty one shouldn’t hurt. Especially after all the work she put into preparing the party.
That was how he ended up with the necklace. Yet, as he left the store, a strange discomfort hit him. Because the moment he saw it, he thought of Seraret. And because holding it in his hand made him feel unexpectedly happy.
“But why give me something like this when it’s not even a special day?”
Without even opening the case, Seraret gave him a wary look.
Yuan sighed and snatched the case back from her hand. He opened it and returned it to her.
“Can’t you just… be happy about it? It doesn’t seem that hard.”
Buying a necklace that suited her had genuinely lifted his mood, but her lukewarm reaction stung. He frowned slightly.
“It feels strange, that’s why. Giving me a gift when it’s not even a special occasion.”
Seraret looked down into the case. The pearl necklace shimmered softly. It was pretty—though the giver was suspicious.
“It’s not a gift.”
Yuan’s tone was curt. Feeling foolish at her indifferent response, his expression turned sour.
“Then what is it?”
“A collar. For my wife to wear.”
He pulled the necklace from the case, turned Seraret around by the shoulders.
“A… collar?” she repeated sharply.
Ignoring her tone, Yuan brushed her hair aside, exposing the pale nape of her neck. His mouth went dry at the sight.
His body was already betraying him, heavy with need. Feeling like a madman, he let out a shaky laugh.
“I told you, didn’t I? I’ll hold your leash myself. I have no intention of handing it over to the Duke.”
This clueless woman kept chattering, not realizing her husband’s state at all.
Yuan silently clasped the necklace around her neck. Each time his fingers brushed her soft skin, he had to fight the urge to push her down onto the bed.
“For a collar, it’s quite pretty.”
The small pearl on the chain glowed like moonlight, reminding Seraret of a miniature full moon. She liked it—it felt like serene beauty was draped around her throat.
She turned to him with a gentle smile.
Damn. She smiled so beautifully, yet he couldn’t even touch her.
The night was deep, the bed right there, and his wife was this breathtaking. What kind of torture was this? He ran a hand through his hair, staring at her.
“Do you like it?”
“For a collar, yes.”
Seraret looked up at him with a coy face.
At that expression, Yuan realized he wasn’t a man with endless patience. He seized her arm and kissed her.
He sucked gently on her lips before impatiently parting them, pushing deeper. Inside, he tasted sweetness that made his tongue melt.
“Hh—”
Seraret hurriedly pushed him away, eyes wide with alarm as they flitted over his face.
“Good night.”
Exhaling as though sighing, Yuan turned from her.
If he stayed any longer, he’d become worse than a beast. Like fleeing, he left her bedroom.
The Duke of Frectuster’s estate bustled with guests attending the party. The ballroom and gardens overflowed with people whose faces were lit with laughter.
Judging by the atmosphere alone, it was a resounding success.
Seraret moved between the hall and garden, fulfilling her role as hostess perfectly. Though frantically busy, she felt proud of herself.
Compared to her past life, it was a remarkable growth.
As she passed the space where several paintings were displayed, a conversation caught her ear.
“They say that painting was sold.”
“Oh my, who bought it?”
“Some lady, apparently.”
“My goodness! Whoever it is, I envy her.”
The women burst into tinkling laughter.
Seraret walked by with a faint smile. The painting they were talking about was the one she had purchased at the Salon exhibition.
Though it had been harshly criticized, it had become trendy among ladies to attend the exhibition just to glimpse it.
Yet, conscious of their reputations, none dared look at it openly. They only stole glances while pretending to pass by. That inability to view it openly seemed to add to its allure.
Seraret thought things would grow quite lively once people learned it was she—the Duchess of Frectuster—who had bought the painting. She turned back toward the ballroom.
“Seraret.”
A voice called from behind. Lydia stood there with a champagne glass, wearing a sulky face.
After canceling her own party, Lydia had announced she would attend the Frectuster party. Seraret hadn’t expected her to actually show up—it was a surprise.
Hiding her true thoughts, Seraret approached with a bright smile.
“Lydia, are you enjoying the party?”
“I can’t tell you how much!”
Lydia beamed.
The two masked their feelings and spoke with exaggerated politeness, carefully avoiding mention of the overlapping party dates.
In the middle of their exchange, Lydia’s face turned worried.
“Seraret, are you alright?”
“…Pardon?”
Seraret tilted her head, baffled by the sudden question.
“I was troubled by what I heard… That things aren’t good between you and Yuan.”
“……”
Seraret only smiled awkwardly without replying.
Yes, rumors were going around—that the Duke and Duchess of Frectuster had not yet spent their wedding night.
And when whispers spread that Yuan kept his distance because he still hadn’t forgotten Lydia, Seraret found herself oddly satisfied.
“Yuan is terrible. How could he treat you like that? As your friend, it breaks my heart.”
Lydia gazed at her with pity.
“I’m sure His Grace has his reasons.”
Though Seraret disliked her tone, she forced a polite smile.
The situation was absurd. There were rumors the Duke avoided his wife’s bed because of his first love—and now that very first love was pretending to comfort the wife.
“You’re so forgiving. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Yuan for you. He listens to me.”
Lydia’s voice carried a hint of smugness.
You’re really going to say that to him? Seraret’s nose wrinkled slightly, and she waved a hand.
“No, it’s fine.”
“I’m only worried about you, Seraret. We’re friends, aren’t we? Leave it to me.”
Lydia took her hand.
Seraret opened her mouth to protest, but then Lydia’s nails dug into the back of her hand. The sting made her close her lips. She tried to pull away, but Lydia wouldn’t release her.
“Lydia.”
At Seraret’s frown, Lydia finally let go.
“I should go see Yuan. I’ll give him a firm talking-to. Leave it to me, Seraret.”
Smiling angelically, Lydia drifted away.
When she was gone, Seraret looked down. Her hand was scratched, blood beading where the nails had dug in.
“Sigh.”
She exhaled. All that, just to draw blood. As she moved to wipe it with her palm, someone suddenly caught her wrist.
She turned—and her eyes curved into a smile.
“Your Highness the Grand Duke.”
Without a word, Regan pressed a handkerchief to the back of her hand, covering the scratch firmly. With the cloth between their hands, he looked at her.
“Let me apologize on her behalf. You were hurt because of Lydia.”
“It’s alright.”
“Lydia is…”
He faltered, unable to finish the sentence.
“Truly, I’m fine, Your Highness.”
Seeing him feel so guilty over something that wasn’t his fault, Seraret made her voice purposefully brighter.
“…Be careful, Duchess of Frectuster.”
“Yes.”
The words seemed a bit excessive, but she only smiled and nodded.
She returned his handkerchief and turned toward the ballroom.
As she entered, Crown Princess Christine appeared before her.
“Your Highness the Crown Princess.”
Seraret immediately bowed in courtesy.
Christine glanced briefly at Lydia, who hovered near Yuan, then asked Seraret for a moment of her time.
“Could we speak privately, Seraret?”
“Yes, of course.”
She readily agreed.
The two went up to the second-floor balcony. Once they were alone in the quiet space, Christine turned to her.
“It seems the party is a success.”
“Thanks to Your Highness the Crown Prince and Your Highness the Crown Princess for attending.”
Seraret smiled.
“The Crown Prince asked me to deliver a message to you—in gratitude for saving Matthew.”
“A message?”
Seraret blinked in confusion. Christine sighed softly.
“It isn’t easy to say. It’s a rather dreadful thing.”
“What do you mean…?” Seraret trailed off.
Looking straight at her, Christine spoke firmly.
“Be wary of Lydia Elliot.”
