Chapter 44

Viscount Everchen still grumbled as he turned his head away, but the Viscountess continued to whisper in her honeyed voice.

“Think about it. Once we borrow the money from the Derive Trading Company and use it as Agnes’s dowry, the Duke of Vasteron’s household will start treating us as in-laws.”

“…That’s only what we think. What if they take the dowry and don’t acknowledge us at all?”

“That would never happen. You know how much the Imperial Family values propriety and appearances. Once the Vasteron family supports us, our status will rise. Just imagine how many gifts we’ll receive then.”

The Viscountess placed a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder, coaxing him with a smile.

“When you think about it that way, does the interest really matter? We’ll pay it off little by little, and once we’ve saved enough, we can repay the principal too. Then the Everchen estate will be safe, and we’ll officially become relatives of a ducal house. Don’t you agree?”

Viscount Everchen groaned and slumped deep into the sofa.

His wife wasn’t wrong. If the Vasteron family helped, they could easily raise three thousand gold.

But could things really go as smoothly as she claimed?

While he was still hesitating, the Viscountess leaned into his arms and pressed a trembling hand to his chest.

“Didn’t you hear? Count Overhen is about to be imprisoned. The only family we can depend on now is the Duke of Vasteron. We have no other choice.”

That was true.

Viscount Everchen had no ability to earn money himself.

He had lived his entire life without ever working. As times changed and merchant nobles became common, many aristocrats started small enterprises, but the Viscount had never considered it.

He liked to claim that nobles didn’t work, but the truth was far simpler. He was just lazy.

He tried to think of another solution but came up with nothing. In the end, he decided to follow his wife’s plan.

“You’re right. Agnes has become rather arrogant lately, but when things turn bad, she won’t ignore us. We’ll do as you suggest.”

“You’ve made the right choice, dear!”

The Viscountess kissed his cheek, then jumped to her feet. She turned to the butler waiting outside the door and ordered him to summon the head of the Derive Trading Company.

“Soon, we’ll be able to host parties every day!”

Her voice rang through the Everchen mansion, bright and giddy with excitement.

* * *

Night fell completely, and darkness settled over the Vasteron Townhouse.

After singing Noah to sleep, Agnes carefully slipped out of bed.

She wrapped a shawl over her nightgown, lit a candle, and began walking down the quiet corridor, her steps tense with unease.

Before long, she reached Dylan’s door and stopped.

Knock, knock.

When she tapped gently, Dylan opened the door as if he had been waiting and held out his hand.

Maybe it was the stillness of the night, or maybe her nerves were simply too strained, but she could even hear the faint sound of melting wax dripping from the candle.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Noah took a while to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright. I’m grateful that you came.”

Dylan took the candleholder from her hand and set it on the table.

Then he carefully took her wrist and tilted his head slightly.

Agnes tensed, expecting the familiar sting of fangs piercing her skin, but Dylan hesitated instead, his expression clouded with thought.

“Your Grace?”

When she called softly, he exhaled a low breath and furrowed his brow.

“Agnes, I think I may have been too forward with you while drinking your blood. Is that true?”

“Oh.”

Agnes’s eyes darted away, flustered. Dylan’s gaze was sharp and red from thirst, and meeting those eyes made her heart race.

He tightened his grip briefly on her wrist, then slowly let go, sighing deeply.

“I thought so. I tried to keep my distance, but it seems I failed. I owe you an apology.”

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s only a formality anyway, and we’re engaged to be married. You only held me a little, that’s all. Please don’t worry about it.”

Agnes spoke hastily, unsure of where to look, but her words only weighed heavier on Dylan’s conscience.

He felt as though he had confused or unsettled a woman who had no choice but to endure his touch.

“If it ever happens again and I lose control, push me away. I don’t want to offend you.”

Agnes opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it again and simply nodded.

Dylan wanted to ask what she’d been about to say but held his tongue. She would only insist that everything was fine.

He lifted her wrist again, supporting it gently, and lowered his head.

His fangs sank into her pale skin, and the fresh scent of blood filled the room.

Dylan’s breath quickened as he swallowed.

Why did her blood taste so sweet?

Whenever he drank from her, it was nearly impossible to remain composed.

The taste was beyond anything he had ever experienced, exquisite and intoxicating, utterly consuming.

In moments like this, he wanted to abandon all pretense of restraint and drink deeply until nothing remained.

When the blood trickled down her wrist, he instinctively ran his tongue along her skin to catch it.

He wanted to stay rational, but every time her body trembled in pain, his hand moved on its own toward her.

As if to stop himself, Dylan clenched his fists behind his back.

Fortunately, as soon as he drank enough, his senses cleared, and his ragged breathing began to steady.

He released her wrist and pressed a folded cloth against the puncture to stop the bleeding.

“Are you alright?”

His eyes had returned to their usual calm blue. Agnes looked at him and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Did I… do anything inappropriate again?”

“No. Not at all. You only drank my blood. Please don’t worry.”

Agnes’s ears flushed red as she pressed her hand to the place his lips had touched. It seemed she was checking the wound, or perhaps recalling the warmth that still lingered.

“Ah, um, I wanted to tell you. I plan to visit Count Overhen tomorrow. Would that be alright?”

“For what reason?”

“The priest advised me to have Noah’s magical abilities properly assessed. But I heard that getting results could take months. I’d like to see if Count Overhen already had anything investigated. He must have known Noah was a mage’s son.”

Her voice was quicker than usual, betraying her nerves. Dylan didn’t comment on it; he simply nodded calmly.

“Take Pavel with you.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you for assigning him as my escort.”

“It’s only natural.”

“It doesn’t feel that way to me…”

Agnes looked up and accidentally met his gaze.

Gold met blue in the dim light.

They both averted their eyes almost at once, the silence suddenly heavy.

“T-then, I’ll go now. I’ll return again in five days. Noah’s in my room, so I should go back soon.”

“Alright. Be careful on your way. If you feel dizzy…”

“No, I’m fine! I’ve gotten used to it. Really, I’m fine.”

Agnes waved her hands quickly and laughed, then hurried out of the room.

She had even forgotten the candleholder, but she was secretly relieved. At least the darkness would hide her burning face.

“I didn’t even touch him tonight…”

She pressed her flushed cheeks with both hands, walking faster.

But deep down, she knew the real reason for her embarrassment.

Dylan’s restraint had left her feeling disappointed. When he said he didn’t want to be disrespectful, she had almost answered that she didn’t mind.

The truth was, she didn’t dislike being in his arms.

“How improper of me. What on earth am I thinking?”

Agnes was so mortified that she could barely breathe.

Gathering her dress in both hands, she all but ran back to her room.

Even after she returned, she couldn’t bring herself to lie beside Noah right away. She paced around, trying to calm her thoughts, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed.

Only after she gathered Noah into her arms did her racing heart begin to settle, and at last, she fell asleep.