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Chapter 9
“…Pardon?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected attack, Rovellin froze for a moment.
So Ian had figured everything out from the very beginning.
Why? How?
Before she could even begin to question it, instinct screamed at her.
‘First, I need to get out of here!’
She didn’t know how Ian had discovered her, but she had to insist he was mistaken.
She could think about the rest later.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t know? You know very well.”
“…I’m sorry, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying. I’ll bring more tea.”
Rovellin stood up as naturally as she could, trying to escape the situation.
If she could just leave the room smoothly, maybe she could send Ian away afterward.
She reached for the door—
‘Huh?’
The doorknob wouldn’t turn.
Confused, she looked up—and saw a hand blocking the door from the other side.
At the same time, a cold voice brushed past her ear.
“Where are you going?”
“Pardon?”
She turned her head.
Those blue eyes were looking down at her.
Gone was the playful expression from earlier when he stole her portrait.
Now he looked like someone who had only been “testing the waters” before revealing his real intentions.
“You were going to run again, weren’t you?”
“W-what are you talking about—”
“You’re the woman who slept with me and ran.”
“…W-what?!”
The crude wording made her freeze.
Something was very wrong.
But she couldn’t afford to be dragged along at his pace.
“N-no, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Is that so?”
Ian’s lips curled into a crooked smile.
He lifted his free hand slowly.
‘Is he going to hit me?’
Her pupils widened.
Every worst possibility flashed through her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
But—
Tap.
Instead of pain, there was only the sound of fabric loosening.
Tap. Tap.
More buttons came undone.
When she opened her eyes—
She immediately regretted it.
“W-why are you undressing?!”
His shirt was open.
A firm, well-defined chest was exposed beneath it.
But there was no time to admire it.
“I need to confirm something.”
“Confirm what?!”
“Whether you are that woman. If you don’t remember, then recreating it should help.”
Tap.
The final button came undone.
Rovellin’s mind went completely blank.
“Isn’t it unfair? Only you get to act like nothing happened.”
His gaze had turned sharp—obsessive.
Rovellin panicked.
‘Recreate it?! That kind of thing?!’
This was her home, for heaven’s sake.
This was outright harassment—no, a crime.
Even if everything else in this world had changed, Ian’s nature clearly had not.
But there was no way she was going to follow this “route.”
“W-wait, Your Highness!”
She raised her hand and pressed it against his chest.
‘He’s too strong!’
Her arm barely stopped him.
A faint smile tugged at Ian’s lips under her palm.
She looked around desperately—but she was trapped between him and the door.
He filled her entire vision.
His open shirt revealed a strong chest and a sharp waistline.
She shut her eyes tight.
And then—
Bang, bang, bang.
A knock came from the door behind them.
Ian froze.
A voice followed.
“Miss. Duke Raven has arrived.”
“…What? Brian?”
Rovellin looked up in shock.
Ian tilted his head as if nothing was wrong.
There was a lot wrong.
“P-please fix your clothes!”
A half-dressed man and a woman alone in a room—this was a disaster waiting to be misunderstood.
And Brian was the male lead of the original story.
The kind of man who would absolutely misunderstand everything.
“Hurry, please!”
“Hey—don’t just grab—!”
In panic, Rovellin grabbed Ian’s shirt to fix it.
Ian tried to stop her—
“Wait!”
Thud!
They both lost balance and fell to the floor.
At that exact moment—
“Your Highness! How long are you planning to—!”
Brian burst into the room.
He froze.
On the carpet—
Rovellin was lying beneath Ian.
Silence.
“…What exactly are you two doing?”
Neither could answer.
Rovellin shoved Ian away in panic and jumped up.
“B-Bri! It’s not what it looks like! It’s a misunderstanding!”
“…A misunderstanding?”
“Yes! His Highness spilled tea! I was just trying to get him clothes, and then he suddenly felt dizzy—!”
She gestured frantically at Ian.
Ian calmly picked up the teacup, poured cold tea onto his shirt, and set the cup down again.
Perfect timing.
Brian narrowed his eyes.
“…You spilled tea, Your Highness?”
“I felt dizzy. The shock from the accident earlier must’ve hit me.”
Ian leaned back on the sofa, covering his forehead.
Very convincing.
Brian still looked suspicious, but eventually let it go.
“I’ll call a physician.”
“Good idea. Ah… my head hurts.”
Ian staggered slightly.
His shirt was still open.
Brian’s gaze sharpened.
“…Duke. What exactly are you doing?”
Ian looked down at Brian, who had thrown his coat over him.
‘Isn’t this what you do for ladies?’
Except instead of covering shoulders, it had essentially bound his upper body.
“I apologize for the trouble. Let’s go, Bell.”
Brian escorted Ian out.
Rovellin followed behind in a daze.
“Duke, I can walk myself.”
“Just come with me.”
“I’m not a child.”
Ian muttered but obeyed anyway.
Before getting into the carriage, he glanced toward the window.
Rovellin quickly ducked away when their eyes met.
His lips curved.
‘So it really is her.’
And then his expression turned sharp again.
“Duke. Secure the identity of the carriage driver. And the registration number is—”
“Damn it!”
BANG!
Empress Karola slammed her fist on the desk.
Count Wighell flinched.
The Empress’s eyes were bloodshot as she glared at him.
“I-I beg your pardon, Your Majesty—please calm down…”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?! Are your eyes just decoration?! LOOK AT THIS!”
She threw a crumpled document at him.
The Count picked it up, read it—
and let out a quiet, troubled sigh.
