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Chapter 39
After her parents left, Psyche’s daily life had become fairly peaceful.
But soon, news arrived from the Kingdom of Argos: the Queen would be visiting with an envoy. The Queen of Argos was the Grand Duke’s third cousin, known as Grand Princess Angela.
Perhaps because of this, lessons from the Marchioness Morie had become even stricter.
“We must show Grand Princess Angela a perfectly composed Psyche….”
“I’ll triple the assignments.”
Following the voice in her memory, Psyche traced the book cover with her fingertips. The Marchioness’s voice echoed automatically in her mind, having been drilled into her ears so thoroughly.
Even though she touched it, she felt nothing. Perhaps it was the cold weather, or her naturally cold hands and feet. Her hands were frozen stiff.
Ah, maybe it was because she had stayed up all night handling an impossible load of assignments. Her eyes kept drooping.
Suddenly, a voice pierced through her drowsiness:
“…Help me.”
“Help me! Help me!”
“…Huh!”
Psyche awoke to the screams that seemed to squeeze her ears. Her head was still heavy and numb.
‘How long have I been asleep?’
She lifted her head. The room was pitch dark. She groped toward the window, drew back the curtains, and looked outside. Night had already fallen. The faint bluish twilight had faded, leaving a thick, black darkness.
‘What if the Grand Duke’s son comes?’
Psyche had never broken a promise, especially when it came to punctuality. And with the Grand Duke, a promise was an unspoken law that must be kept.
She needed to leave quickly.
As Psyche reached for a match to light a lamp, a lazy, teasing laugh came from behind her.
“Ah, you seem busy.”
“…Your Highness?”
“Mm.”
She froze, blinking, her hand suspended in midair. When she turned slowly, the curtain she had just opened began to close on its own.
In the darkness, the Grand Duke’s figure was faintly visible.
He rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head as he watched Psyche. When their eyes met, he tapped a shot glass on the bedside table with his other hand.
“Whiskey?”
“…That’s…”
“You were planning to end the day early? I suppose you weren’t planning to see me.”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why were you asleep before I came, so deep I couldn’t even notice?”
Sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed lazily, he spoke with a teasing tone.
Psyche took a careful step toward him, but something nudged her shoulder.
At the same time, his scent filled the air—a strong, intoxicating fragrance, almost making her feel he was right next to her.
Then she realized the smell was coming from clothes on the floor.
“…Are these yours, Your Highness?”
“You looked cold.”
He let out a soft laugh. Thanks to him, her frozen hands were now warm. Her room was already cozy, and now she almost felt hot.
He snapped his fingers lightly, lifting the clothes onto the table with magic.
Convenient. She didn’t even need to move. Psyche sat on a chair a little away from the bed, thinking it was almost amusing.
“Far away, aren’t you?”
“The chair is comfortable.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Then…
“…Your Highness!”
Psyche moved the chair closer to the bed. With a single snap of his fingers, he teased her:
“Now you’re closer. But… there’s a strong smell of whiskey somewhere.”
She tugged her sleeve and sniffed herself, then took a small sip from the shot glass. It wasn’t strong enough to make her drunk in one sip. Psyche felt a little annoyed at his teasing.
“Drink often if it bothers you.”
“Drink often?”
“…Sometimes I enjoy it.”
“Alright. But being drunk enough to sleep without knowing who carries you? I’m against that.”
“Thanks to that, I had the honor of Your Highness personally visiting me.”
“Such flattery.”
“…And I apologize for failing to keep the promise in the contract.”
“Are you apologizing for not being in your bedroom?”
Psyche stood and walked closer to the bed, approaching him as he sat cross-legged. As she moved closer, his form became clearer in the darkness.
Though they weren’t far apart, facing him this closely felt different.
Would she be able to see his face?
But she didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes, so she lowered her head.
“Miss.”
“…Yes.”
“Lift your head.”
“The master of the Grand Duchy does not lower his head lightly. You cannot lower your head to anyone but me.”
The scent of winter drew near—the scent of a flower blooming stubbornly even in winter.
“……I will remember that.”
Warmth began to spread around them. The Grand Duke moved closer, gently holding her shoulders and pressing their bodies together.
Every breath of his warmth made her senses tingle.
“Always punctual, yet today you didn’t come. I wondered if you had run away… But if not, it doesn’t matter.”
His hands moved softly over her shoulders, leaving a gentle warmth wherever they touched.
The sensation was strange—being in the presence of someone she could never bow to, yet feeling his tender, comforting touch.
“Don’t apologize unnecessarily. I will make sure you never have to lower your head.”
He truly would do that. Absolute power carried such a promise.
“If you don’t want, you can stop the Marchioness Morie’s lessons.”
“…No, I wanted to continue. I want to keep going.”
“Good. That is also your choice. But don’t push yourself too hard just to prove yourself.”
Psyche remained silent. It reminded her of what her father had said.
Since her parents left, Psyche had never slept peacefully for even a day.
Dreams kept chasing her—like the dream when the man held her tight as her parents departed.
“If you do not wish, there’s no need to entertain the Queen of Argos. Though the envoy will arrive loudly, she comes mainly out of curiosity for you.”
“Do you think she would understand if I said this is also something I want to do?”
“…Of course.”
His straight fingers brushed over her cheek, tracing lightly as if searching for tears.
“You should do as you wish.”
Psyche turned her head to avoid his touch. Did he think she had been crying?
No. Psyche didn’t cry easily. She hadn’t felt sadness or weakness when seeing her parents off. She hadn’t pitied herself. Everything was her choice.
A soft laugh floated in the air.
“Ah. From now on, no more drinking.”
“Your Highness.”
“One sip each time winter tires you. That’s the first step to alcohol addiction. Right now, Miss, you show the first signs of dependence.”
She had no choice but to stay quiet.
“On days you don’t come, I cannot sleep.”
Her words seemed to surprise him, even in the darkness. He cupped her chin gently.
“Why? Have you already started missing me?”
It felt like he was about to kiss her.
