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Chapter 31
“So, that means you’re only kind to me, Your Grace.”
A breeze slipped in through the open window, making the curtains flutter. Because of it, Sig couldn’t see her. The time he spent silently waiting for the wind to die down felt unbearably slow.
“May I take it that way?”
When the wind calmed and the curtains settled, her figure was revealed. Her cheeks were faintly flushed as she smiled softly.
“Your Grace, you should take off that fur coat.”
Watching Britia Lockhart laugh with her eyes curved, saying there was too much steam coming off his head, Sig found himself unable to do anything.
“Would you come over here? It’s a bit cooler where the wind is coming in.”
At that moment—crack!—the teacup shattered. Startled, Sig had gripped it too tightly, and the handle snapped off under his strength, falling to the floor.
“Oh no!”
Seeing the tea spill and soak his trousers, Britia hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief, flustered. But it wasn’t exactly a place she could wipe herself.
“I’m fine.”
He insisted he was fine, though he clearly didn’t look it.
“What on earth were you two doing?”
In the end, Britia rushed off to call for help. Count Lockhart, who was summoned, couldn’t hide his disbelief.
“The teacup is broken, the reception room floor is a mess—and Sig, why are you standing like that?”
The count narrowed his eyes sharply at the two of them.
“You’re not even engaged, let alone married, and you’re already doing things like that? Over my dead—!”
Britia clamped a hand over the count’s mouth.
“Just lend him some trousers.”
She pushed him along, telling him to stop saying things that could be misunderstood and to hurry up.
“If you made my daughter do anything strange, you’re never coming to this house again.”
The count warned Sig as he awkwardly shuffled along in his soaked trousers.
“Stop saying nonsense!”
Only after Britia snapped at him did the count finally take Sig away to change.
“I knew you were big, but seeing it like this, it’s seriously huge!”
The count’s voice was so loud that Britia, waiting in the hallway, could hear everything.
“Tia! My pants don’t fit him!”
The count cheerfully explained the situation, but Britia just wished he would shut up.
“Want to come take a look?”
Take a look at what, exactly? Britia resolved to deal with him later.
“How about changing the top too? Something that matches?”
Unaware of the expression on Britia’s face outside, the count suggested a shirt as well.
“Ah! Take it off! My clothes are going to tear!”
Soon, he let out a scream.
“Maybe it’s better if you just take off the top?”
“Crave, at this point I feel like you’re messing with me.”
“But that would suit you best right now.”
Take it off? What were they even saying? Startled by the conversation, Britia banged hard on the door.
“Crave! Stop fooling around and give him proper clothes!”
The count flung the door open. Catching a glimpse of bare skin behind him, Britia quickly covered her eyes with both hands.
“What? Why are you sneakily listening in on us?”
“I said I’d be waiting!”
“I didn’t expect you to be lurking here like that. If you’re going to do that, just come in.”
“Are you insane?!”
The moment she shouted, she sensed a large presence right beside her and froze.
“So you’re really going with that? Well, I guess it’s the best option.”
The count tapped her arm lightly, telling her she could open her eyes now.
Britia hesitated. What kind of state was Sig in? He said there were no pants that fit—did they manage to find something? Surely he wasn’t… not wearing anything? And the top? Could he be… naked?
Swallowing hard, she slowly lowered her hands.
“That’s funny. Why are you swallowing like that?”
The count snickered teasingly, but Britia stomped hard on his foot.
“Argh!”
Pushing the groaning count aside, Britia slowly lifted her gaze.
Since there were no trousers that fit, Sig had wrapped a bedsheet around his lower body. His shirt was on, but several buttons were undone, exposing his chest as he looked at her.
Perhaps because she had imagined him completely naked, he seemed relatively covered in comparison. Still, her eyes kept drifting to the glimpse of his chest through the open shirt.
“Careful, Sig. My daughter’s quite shameless—she’s practically devouring your chest with her eyes—ugh!”
Britia stomped on the count’s foot again, sending him rolling on the floor.
“You stepped on the same spot again?!”
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. It seems Crave’s clothes were too small.”
“It’s not that I’m small—it’s that he’s too big!”
“Thank you for lending them.”
Embarrassed by his appearance, Sig couldn’t meet Britia’s eyes.
“I’m the one who lent them—why are you thanking Tia?”
The count, now back on his feet, looked baffled.
“What’s with you two? Why are your faces red, and why can’t you even look at each other?”
He kept pressing them, but both were too flustered and embarrassed to answer.
“Anyway, it’d be ridiculous for you to leave like that, so stay until your pants dry.”
After staring at them in disbelief for a while, the count clapped his hands.
“But I can’t leave my unmarried daughter alone with a suspiciously dressed man like that.”
Britia felt uneasy at his meaningful smile.
“How about we play Lockhart card games in the meantime?”
At the mention of cards, Sig’s tail reacted.
“Since Reni’s not here, the number’s just right.”
The count grinned as he hooked his arm around Britia’s.
“What are you plotting?”
“Plotting? What do you mean?”
Lockhart card games weren’t much different from regular card games, except that players formed teams of two. As for why such a game existed—it was for a trivial reason.
“You made that game because you wanted to hit on Hailey.”
“That was how it started. But we’ve played it plenty since then.”
“You were always the one suggesting it. Back when Hailey was shy about showing affection, you used the game as an excuse to get close to her.”
Grinning at Britia’s suspicion, the count turned to Sig.
“I brought it up, but sorry. Tia says she doesn’t want to team up with you!”
“When did I say that?!”
Startled, Britia hurriedly covered his mouth. Sig’s tail, which had been swaying, suddenly went still.
“I see. Then it can’t be helped.”
He didn’t sound disappointed, but Britia could clearly see his stiffened tail.
“Let’s play! Please play with me!”
Closing her eyes tightly, she shouted. She could already imagine the count’s smug grin, but she had no choice. How could she refuse after seeing that tail?
—
“Why are we suddenly playing cards?”
Lady Lockhart, who had been hurriedly called in, flinched at Sig’s appearance but quickly pretended not to notice. The count whispered something in her ear.
“You really are something.”
With a sigh, she soon fell into affectionate conversation with her husband.
Britia glanced at Sig sitting beside her. Was he hot, or had he simply forgotten to button his shirt? His chest remained exposed, and sitting so close made it impossible not to notice.
“Your Grace, do you like card games?”
While Britia was distracted by his chest, Sig was excited at the thought of playing cards again.
“I do.”
Though his face didn’t show it, his tail wagged, repeatedly tapping the sofa.
“Is my tail moving again?”
Sig asked when he noticed Britia smiling as she glanced behind him.
All his life, people had said his expressionless face made him unreadable. But in front of Britia, everything seemed to be laid bare, and he felt as if he were standing naked.
“It’s been a while, so I guess I got a little excited. At Alteim, no one wants to play with me except the vice-captain.”
Britia found his attempt at an excuse rather cute.
“Is Lockhart card game different from regular card games?”
Avoiding her smiling gaze, Sig asked.
“Not really—just that you play in teams of two.”
There was no special rule beyond that. The real point was simply that sharing cards naturally brought people closer together.
“Well, there is one thing.”
“There’s a penalty for the losing team.”
The count snickered confidently.
“That’s unfortunate for you, Sig. Tia’s terrible at this game—her thoughts show on her face.”
Britia bit her lip. She wanted to deny it, but it was true—she lost eight times out of ten.
“It’s fine. I’m good at card games.”
“Dear, did you hear that? Turas is underestimating us!”
The count kissed his wife lightly on the cheek, declaring they’d teach him a lesson.
And shortly after—
“Are you a statue or what?!”
Ten minutes into the game, the count shouted.
“How can someone have this little expression change?!”
He had always dominated games thanks to Britia and Leoni’s expressive faces. But with Sig holding the cards, that advantage was gone.
“Looks like you’ll be taking the penalty today.”
Britia, who had never beaten him so thoroughly before, was delighted.
“Lucky you, Crave—you’ll get to show off your strength carrying Hailey.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“Says the one who’s clearly losing.”
While the twins bickered, Sig Turas quietly led the game to victory—though internally, he was fighting a different battle.
If asked what he was struggling with, he wouldn’t know how to answer.
He should have expected this when they said they’d share cards—Britia was far too close.
“This is where the real game begins.”
“The moment you say that, you’ve already lost. Right, Your Grace?”
Every time her arm or hand brushed against him, he felt like he might jump to his feet. But doing that would mean losing, so he held it in.
“If I’d known, we should’ve played when you visited before.”
Each time Britia smiled, Sig fought his battle alone—unable to tell anyone what exactly he was struggling against.
