Chapter 46

Despite the emotional comfort Agnes and Noah gave each other, their days remained busy.

Yesterday, they had visited the Magic Association to test Noah’s magical aptitude. The results would take about a month, so they would receive them only after reaching the North.

During the day, the tailor Odilo came by to take Noah’s measurements and showed them the wedding dress he had completed for Agnes.

The wedding had to proceed without a single hitch.

Dylan’s reputation was important, but the Emperor’s interest in the wedding carried something more unsettling.

He sent various gifts and even dispatched one of his close attendants, a lady-in-waiting from the palace.

Agnes could not tell if the woman’s presence was deliberate or careless. Even when she pretended to help, her eyes followed Agnes as though observing her every move.

Sharing the entire preparation process with such a woman drained more energy than she expected.

Exhausted, Agnes lost her appetite and decided to rest after eating only a small portion of dinner.

When she leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, Noah sat beside her reading a storybook.

‘It has been five days already…’

Five days had passed since Agnes last gave Dylan her blood. It was almost time to visit his chambers again.

She checked the clock one last time. It was half past seven.

‘Just thirty minutes. I’ll close my eyes for only thirty minutes.’

With that promise, she sank into the sofa and shut her eyes.

Noah’s small voice, softly reading lines from his storybook, sounded like a lullaby.

Agnes wanted to praise him for his efforts, but sleep pulled her down before she could speak.

* * *

She did not know how long she had slept.

To her, it felt like less than ten minutes. Yet something in the air felt strange.

Then she heard it.

“Do you like this book?”

“Do you like this book.”

Dylan’s low voice overlapped with Noah’s young one, repeating the same words. Dylan’s next line carried faint surprise.

“Are you repeating what I say?”

Agnes’s eyes flew open. She turned toward the voices. Dylan was kneeling on one knee in front of Noah, his expression serious.

Startled, Agnes jumped to her feet and quickly apologized.

“Your Grace, I am so sorry. I only meant to rest for thirty minutes, but somehow…”

When she glanced at the clock, it was already past nine. Agnes, flustered, placed her hand on Noah’s shoulder.

“And Noah is still recovering, so it’s easier for him to repeat what others say than to speak on his own. He didn’t mean any disrespect, I promise. Please forgive him.”

As she hurriedly poured out her apology, Dylan stood and raised a hand, shaking his head once.

“It is fine. I understand why you were late, and anything involving the child is understandable. I was curious about his recovery, so this was a good opportunity.”

He looked down at Noah, studying him, while Noah looked up at him just as intently.

Agnes had thought it before, but Noah’s reaction always amazed her.

By now, Dylan’s condition was clearly worsening.

When five days passed without feeding, he became more sensitive, and even ordinary people instinctively avoided him.

But Noah showed no fear at all. He simply blinked up at Dylan with wide eyes.

Dylan seemed equally intrigued by Noah’s calmness. After a quiet moment of observation, he pressed his fingers to his temple and let out a faint sigh.

“You look tired, Lady Agnes. You should rest. I was about to leave anyway.”

Without hesitation, Dylan bowed slightly and turned toward the door.

Agnes gently patted Noah’s shoulder, then hurried after him.

She told the maid standing outside to call for Lizzie and quickly chased after Dylan, who was already some distance away.

“Your Grace.”

Her voice came out breathless. She had lifted her skirts to run faster, her tone mixed with urgency and worry.

At the sound, Dylan stopped. When he turned to look at her, a faint red glimmer flickered and disappeared in his eyes.

“Your Grace, it’s been five days. Let me come with you.”

“It’s all right. I know you’ve been busy without a moment’s rest. I can handle it myself.”

By “handle it,” he must have meant feeding on one of the condemned criminals, the way he had done before.

That could not happen. Agnes refused to let him sink again into that pit of self-loathing.

And with so many eyes watching them because of the upcoming wedding, it was even riskier.

She shook her head firmly and tried to persuade him.

“You told me there are people who already doubt you. Everyone will be watching you closely because of the wedding. Moving alone would draw too much attention, and also…”

Before she could finish, Dylan seized her arm and pulled her close.

Their faces were so near that she could feel his breath against her forehead.

Agnes looked up in surprise. His eyes had turned completely crimson.

Dylan lowered his head beside her cheek and inhaled deeply.

His breath was sharp and deliberate, like a beast testing its prey. The fine hairs along her neck stood upright.

It felt as if his sharp fangs might sink into her skin at any second.

“…Lady Agnes, my patience is far weaker than you believe.”

His voice was low and cold, carrying a dangerous warning.

He released her arm and stepped back.

“I don’t wish to burden my fiancée when she’s already tired. Go back to your room.”

As always, his words were polite and restrained. He turned and walked away quickly.

Agnes stood frozen for a moment, dazed by the sudden distance between them, then hurried after him.

“Your Grace, please wait. Your Grace.”

Dylan let out a long breath before turning around. His patience was clearly at its limit.

Agnes looked nervous but did not back down.

She reached out carefully and took his arm. Her expression was earnest.

“Your Grace, I worry about you too.”

Her golden eyes met his directly.

The red glow in his gaze, which others feared and called monstrous, did not make her flinch. She faced it calmly and spoke with warmth.

“I know I’m lacking in many ways, and it may be rude of me to say this. But just as you worry about my condition, I worry when I see you in pain.”

Dylan stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time. The woman he thought he had to protect was now saying she wanted to protect him.

When he gave no reply, Agnes smiled awkwardly and brushed her cheek with one hand.

“…If I let you go like this, I’ll be too worried to sleep anyway. So it won’t be much different from when you drink my blood, will it?”

It was a clumsy attempt at humor, but Dylan actually smiled.

For some reason, pushing her away any longer felt pointless. No matter what he said, she would only come closer again.

And that strange sense of defeat did not feel unpleasant.

If anything, it was almost comforting.

Dylan rubbed his forehead, conflicted, then finally nodded.

“Very well.”

After a moment of quiet thought, he gently took Agnes’s hand and escorted her to his chamber.

“Please, have a seat.”

He gestured toward the sofa by the window.

Agnes sat down, her expression tense but calmer than before, and held out her wrist.

Dylan took her wrist carefully, lifting it to his lips.

“Pardon me.”

The sweet scent of her skin filled the air. Dylan could no longer resist. His fangs sank into her flesh.

“…Ah.”

Agnes’s slender wrist twitched slightly.

The moment her blood reached his tongue, reason nearly slipped away.

He clenched his free hand behind his back, digging his nails into his palm until they left marks.

Tonight required more restraint than ever. He had been unable to refuse her kindness, yet the last thing he wanted was to exhaust her further.