Chapter 71

There were too many vague and suspicious details. Naturally, doubt arose.

At the same time, Agnes was certain this was something she should never ask about carelessly.

Although Dylan’s eyes had returned to blue after his “meal,” they still felt dark and heavy, just like when he fed on blood.

It was clear the feelings he harbored toward the Peridot family were not simply anger.

Agnes nodded slowly and spoke carefully.

“Yes, I’ll do that. I won’t get too involved, and I won’t act awkwardly either.”

Her words were both a promise and a vow that she would not stir his wounds.

Dylan’s deep blue eyes focused on her, as if studying an unknown creature for the first time. The intensity made Agnes unconsciously straighten her shoulders.

Then his gaze shifted to her neck and shoulders, tracing her form as though sketching her outline with his eyes. Agnes froze, unable to move.

The tense air between them tightened until Dylan finally rose and turned toward the bathroom.

“Get some rest.”

His tone was firm, as if ending the conversation completely.

Agnes wondered if she had said something wrong and replayed her own words in her head.

But before stepping into the bathroom, Dylan looked back and asked,

“Would you like to attend the Northern Harvest Festival?”

It was not a question one would ask someone who had just made a mistake.

Agnes blinked, uncertain of his intent, but she answered honestly.

“I’m interested, but if the Imperial Family summons us, that should take priority. There will always be another chance next year.”

Dylan nodded, lost in thought for a moment, then said quietly,

“Let’s stop by just for appearances. The festival starts a few days later than usual, so if we move quickly, we can return in time.”

Agnes straightened in surprise and leaned slightly forward.

“But can we really do that if His Majesty calls for us?”

Cali was not someone to take lightly. Even after only a brief conversation with her, Agnes had been completely drained, as though her energy had been pulled from her body.

Cali would surely find some reason to keep Dylan from leaving. Would he really be able to slip away just for the festival?

While Agnes was sincerely worried, Dylan only shrugged, completely unfazed.

“We’ll say it’s because we’re newlyweds. It’s an excuse we can only use now.”

With that, he strode into the bathroom as if the matter had already been settled.

Agnes stared blankly at the closed door, her expression full of disbelief.

Dylan’s attitude toward Cali was fascinating.

At times it seemed as if he were handling the most dangerous beast in the world, and at other times it felt as if he were teasing a mischievous younger sister.

Perhaps both were genuine.

That thought made Agnes’s heart sink heavily.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dylan stepped into the bath and began removing his clothes. He swallowed dryly as an inexplicable thirst clawed at his throat.

His pale Adam’s apple rose and fell sharply.

‘Why…’

He had already finished his “meal” with Agnes’s help.

There was no reason to feel hungry. Her blood was unlike anything else in the world, filling him with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

Every time her warm blood slid down his throat and pooled in his stomach, the feral instincts raging inside his head would finally quiet.

When Agnes had grown exhausted back in the capital, Dylan had promised he would no longer drink from her. In truth, he had been afraid.

He knew all too well that drinking the blood of a condemned prisoner again would not free him from this tormenting hunger.

He had come to despise himself for finding comfort in the blood Agnes willingly offered. Yet tonight, for some reason, that comfort did not come.

Dylan leaned back in the warm bath and closed his eyes, resting his head on the edge.

An image surfaced in his mind, Agnes in her silk nightgown, a thin shawl draped over her shoulders.

Tiny marks had begun to appear on her pale wrists, where his fangs had bitten her.

He always treated the wounds immediately after feeding, applying ointment and wrapping them carefully to prevent infection, but faint red spots still remained.

Agnes never seemed to care, but Dylan could not ignore them.

The real problem was that his feelings had changed.

At first he had only felt guilt.

Leaving bite marks on a woman’s skin, especially a woman who was not truly his wife, went against all sense of decency. He had felt ashamed that he relied on her blood to maintain his sanity.

But tonight something was different. Seeing the small red marks on her pale skin brought a strange sense of satisfaction.

When Agnes had gently accepted his suggestion about the Peridot family and tried to comfort him with kind, understanding words, he had even imagined leaving that mark not on her wrist, but on the delicate curve of her neck.

Dylan dragged his hand through his wet black hair and let out a long breath.

“This is madness.”

His muttered words echoed heavily against the bathroom walls.

She had only offered her blood to protect her child.

Their marriage existed solely to mislead society, nothing more. He had no right to desire her body.

He frowned deeply, disgusted by his own thoughts.

* * *

Summer was nearing its end.

The servants of the Vasteron mansion still complained about the lingering heat, but those who had come from the southern region, including Agnes and Noah, found the evenings cool enough to start wearing light coats.

Around that time an invitation arrived from Viscountess Tavella.

“I felt sad that the flowers bloomed too early, so before winter arrives, I’ve completed a new greenhouse. I’m holding a small tea party to celebrate it, and it would bring me great joy if you could attend.”

At the bottom of the invitation, in small letters, was a list of other guests. Baroness Orwellin, Baroness Arbil, and a few of their children.

The unspoken message was clear. Count Peridot’s family would not be attending.

Appreciating the thoughtfulness, Agnes sent a polite reply accepting the invitation.

A few days later she visited the Tavella estate with Noah.

Viscountess Tavella greeted her warmly. Her smile and mannerisms carried the quiet grace typical of northerners.

When she noticed Noah hiding shyly behind Agnes, her smile softened even more.

“Duchess, you accepted my invitation because I have children around your son’s age, didn’t you?”

Agnes was a bit surprised by her directness but decided to answer just as honestly.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Viscountess Tavella clapped her hands softly, looking genuinely pleased.

“I’ve always wished my children could have friends their age. Of course, the Orwellin family is close to us, but still.”

She paused as if choosing her words, then changed the subject with a faintly troubled look.

“Anyway, my daughter is six, and my son is four. I heard the young master Overhen is five, is that right?”

Technically Noah was six, but since his official age was recorded as five, Agnes nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. He’ll turn six on his upcoming birthday.”

Viscountess Tavella’s smile brightened as she guided them inside.

The newly built greenhouse, which served as the setting for the tea party, was small but lovely. It felt much warmer inside than outside, and Agnes realized she could take off her light coat.

A quick-witted servant at the entrance stepped forward and collected the coats from her and Noah.

“The greenhouse is beautiful. It’s bright and warm, and you could even grow flowers from the south here.”

Agnes’s genuine admiration made Viscountess Tavella laugh shyly.

“I actually bought a few exotic flowers from the southern provinces. They haven’t arrived yet, but once they do, I hope you’ll visit again.”

“Of course.”

As the two women chatted pleasantly, Baroness Arbil and Baroness Orwellin entered the greenhouse, greeting them with friendly smiles.