Chapter 18

The quiet room was filled only with the soft, wet sound of breath and movement.

Anyone hearing such a sound, lips tracing damp skin in the marital bed, would imagine something intimate.

Agnes was no exception. Her whole body was tense, not even daring to swallow.

As Dylan’s cold breath slowly regained warmth, her slender neck trembled faintly.

While drinking from his fiancée’s blood, Dylan suddenly realized how rigid her body had become. He had been too consumed by hunger to notice before.

When he finally lifted his lips from her wrist, Agnes let out a small sigh of relief and smiled weakly.

“Your complexion looks much better. I am so glad.”

Even as she said it, her expression remained uneasy.

It was only natural, Dylan thought. No matter how kind-hearted she was, she could not possibly be free of fear toward the monster who fed on her blood.

He stepped back a little and noticed a faint blue bruise on her wrist.

“…It still seems to strain your body.”

“Oh, this? It will fade soon. Thanks to Your Grace’s concern, I am using an excellent ointment.”

“But still.”

“Truly, it is fine. If it worries you that much, we can switch arms each time.”

Agnes offered her unmarked right arm with an awkward smile.

Despite Dylan’s concern, there was no hint of fear in her golden eyes.

Then why did she look so uncomfortable? Was it the pain?

Feeling his gaze fixed on her, Agnes lowered her eyes.

She knew he was trying to figure out what was wrong, but it was even harder to speak under his calm, gentlemanly stare.

The pain or fear of being bitten was not what bothered her. Even now, when she had not yet gotten Noah back, she was indebted to Dylan, and he was still doing everything in his power to help her.

A small sting every few days was hardly worth worrying about.

It was just that…

When Dylan fed, his gaze alone was enough to make her face burn.

Those red eyes filled with hunger and longing, the way he leaned closer with aching restraint, made her heart tremble before she could stop it.

Yet even then, the way he held her arm was as graceful as a gentleman asking a lady for a dance.

But the moment his dry, crimson lips touched her skin, everything changed.

The yearning gentleman vanished, and in his place remained only something wild and dangerous.

Dylan bit down gently with sharp fangs, licking the blood that flowed from the wound. The slick sensation made Agnes’s body shiver.

“Ah…”

She flinched, and Dylan’s strong arm immediately wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in place.

At the sound of her quiet gasp, his crimson eyes met hers.

For an instant, she felt like prey caught in a predator’s claws.

Her body trembled helplessly, like a deer pinned beneath a beast’s paw, offering its neck in fear.

Dylan lowered his head again, pressing his lips to her wrist, drinking slowly.

Each soft, wet sound filled the room and made her even more flustered.

Agnes turned her head away, unable to meet his eyes. Yet doing so only made her more aware of his scent, his warmth, and the heat of his body rising as he drank.

After a while, a faint sound of release broke the silence, and Dylan lifted his lips.

Whether he had noticed her confusion or merely chose to ignore it, his voice was calm.

“…We should find a better ointment. Alternating arms will only delay the problem. I will also reconsider your diet.”

“Thank you for your concern.”

After feeding, Dylan was, as always, perfectly composed, a considerate gentleman once more.

He probably had no idea how he looked while drinking her blood. Perhaps the hunger blurred his memory of those moments.

Agnes chose not to mention it. She did not want to shame a man who treated her with such kindness.

“By the way, did the letter reach Noah safely? I meant to ask but you have seemed so busy.”

“You are always free to ask about it, Lady Everchen. It is your right.”

“But I would hate to interrupt your work because of me.”

“Asking once or twice a day would hardly affect my efficiency. I am not that incompetent.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if offended by the suggestion, and Agnes had to stifle a laugh. This, too, was something that set him apart from her former husband.

Rickman Overhen used to hate when she even knocked on his study door.

He had lectured her at length, saying a good wife never disturbed a working man.

But the reason she had gone to his study had been to discuss household matters, something he himself had insisted she report to him.

Agnes had known his attitude was unfair, but she also knew her own position too well to object.

She was well aware that Rickman had essentially bought her from her family, and that was why she endured his treatment so quietly.

To him, her obedience had been proof of devotion, and he had been pleased by it.

Agnes wondered what Dylan would have thought if he had seen her then.

He was both rational and perceptive. He would have noticed her resignation immediately and asked her again and again what she truly wanted, until he found a way to help her.

“Ha.”

The thought made her laugh quietly. Startled by the sound, she quickly covered her mouth.

“Why are you laughing?”

“N-no reason. I was not laughing.”

“Lady Everchen.”

Dylan glanced at her sidelong, his tone dry but gentle. While speaking, he used his handkerchief to wipe the faint traces of blood from her arm, then let out a soft chuckle.

“You have such a bright beauty. When you smile, it is impossible not to notice.”

“What?”

“I mean, your smile is quite unforgettable.”

At once, Agnes covered her mouth again, but she could not hide the pink that spread across her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and even her ears.

Seeing her reaction, Dylan looked startled himself and stepped back slightly.

“Did I say something inappropriate?”

“N-no, not at all. We are engaged, after all.”

“Our engagement is not exactly ordinary, so certain exceptions might apply. If my words made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”

“Truly, it is fine. I was just… caught off guard.”

She pulled her hand free and covered her burning face.

“I am sorry for laughing earlier. I was just happy, realizing how much you value our agreement. Oh, right, the letter. Did Noah receive it?”

“Ah, yes. I was told the letter was safely delivered to the boy.”

“Really?”

Her eyes widened, glowing with joy. The sight was so radiant that Dylan could not help smiling in return.

“Yes. Your letter was returned, but the boy wrote a short reply on the spot.”

From that moment until Dylan reached into his jacket, Agnes forgot to breathe.

She had hoped only that Noah had read her letter without distress. That alone would have been enough. But a reply?

When Dylan took out a small envelope, she instinctively cupped her hands together to receive it. He placed it carefully in her palms, speaking in a measured tone.

“It does not seem very thick, so it may be short. Try not to expect too much.”

“Yes, of course.”

“The boy is still young, so he might not fully understand everything you wrote. Keep that in mind.”

“That is all right!”

“The tutor in charge of his lessons mentioned—”

“It’s all right, Your Grace!”

Agnes pressed the letter to her chest, nodding eagerly, not caring what warnings he gave.

To Dylan, her reaction looked more like impatience to open it than gratitude, though perhaps both were true.

“I am still investigating whether Count Overhen is fit to raise the child. I will inform you as soon as there is progress. For now, please rest.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you so very much!”

Dylan gave her a polite bow and left.

The moment the door closed, Agnes sat on the edge of her bed and lit the candle.

The flame flickered softly as she opened the envelope, and the familiar handwriting appeared before her eyes.

Tears stung immediately, but she pressed her fingers to her eyelids to hold them back. If she ruined this letter with tears, she would never forgive herself.

Her fingers traced the first words gently as she began to read.

“To my beloved Mother.”