Chapter 79
The night sky was now cloaked in complete darkness. Inside the room, the only light came from a faintly glowing bedside lamp, casting soft shadows across the silence.
The only sounds were the steady tick of the clock and a quiet rhythm of breathing—so faint one had to strain to hear it.
Feeling suffocated by the heavy awkwardness, Riena shifted uncomfortably before pressing her hand against the bed.
The mattress was smooth, without a single bump—soft enough to make her wonder if lying on clouds might feel like this.
Of course, the bed she’d used at the palace had been luxurious too. But perhaps because of the resort’s opulence—or maybe Dante’s fastidious nature—this one seemed even better.
“Why? Do you like it?”
A low, languid voice brushed her ear, startling her.
She quickly withdrew her hand and looked down at him.
She’d thought he was asleep—but no. Those golden eyes, bright as candlelight, were half-open, fixed on her.
“You’re still awake?” she whispered.
Dante let out a quiet, amused chuckle.
“How could I sleep when you keep pressing on the bed and sneaking glances at me every chance you get?”
“I—I wasn’t!”
She had just touched the bed. And as for the glances…
Was he peeking through half-closed eyes this whole time? Her face flushed bright red.
“I spent quite a bit of money on that bed,” he murmured.
“How much? Hmm… It actually feels nicer than the one I had at the palace.”
Riena had always tried not to bring up her past when talking to him, but surely it was fine this time—it was only about furniture.
Dante blinked slowly, watching her. She looked unbearably awkward sitting there so stiffly.
After making such a fuss about only sitting, she now sat half on, half off the bed—her back not resting against the headboard, her legs dangling neatly over the edge. The posture looked uncomfortable just to see.
Dante tilted his head slightly, frowning.
“Riena, why don’t you just lie down?”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“You should at least rest your eyes. I won’t sleep long anyway. I’ll take you home after.”
As if I don’t know what you’re trying to do.
She shook her head firmly, refusing. But something he said made her pause.
“Wait. What do you mean you ‘won’t sleep long’? You still have work to do?”
“No. I finished everything.”
Well, technically the executives had arrived to handle the rest. Unless an emergency came up, there wasn’t much left for him tonight.
“Then why…” she murmured, frowning.
Her lashes trembled slightly as she thought it over.
“Don’t tell me… you can’t sleep properly?”
Dante didn’t answer, but she read the silence well enough.
“Since when? …Even after coming here?”
“For a while now.”
A faint ripple crossed her eyes. It explained a lot—why his bedroom had looked so spotless when she entered earlier.
“Don’t tell me this is your first time sleeping in this bed?”
She asked sharply, hitting right on the truth. Dante turned his head aside and raised an arm to cover his eyes.
Silence hung between them, but even without looking, he could feel her gaze—quiet, insistent, waiting.
At last, he sighed and admitted, “…The sofa.”
“What? The sofa?”
Her voice rose in disbelief. Riena let out a frustrated breath. He had been here for months—and not once had he slept in a bed?
“That’s ridiculous! You’ll ruin your health!”
“I seem fine, don’t I?”
If only words could bruise, she thought, glaring at that irritating mouth of his.
But soon, her expression softened.
The silence that followed wasn’t intentional; there was simply nothing else she could say.
When her chatter ceased, Dante lowered his arm and looked at her.
“What’s wrong?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her. When she only lowered her head and bit her lip, he reached out and brushed his thumb against her mouth.
“Don’t bite,” he said softly. “Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
His tone was calm, but warm enough to stir something inside her.
“…Take care of yourself,” she murmured.
Dante’s lips curved faintly, as if amused by the simple words.
“Don’t get sick. Eat well. Sleep properly. That’s how you live a long life.”
“Are you trying to curse me by saying the opposite of what you mean, Riena?”
He chuckled, but still sat up, meeting her eyes directly.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Don’t be so sure. You never know what could happen.”
“Sounds more like a curse than a concern.”
Even as he joked, his gaze stayed steady on her.
“Anyway, I’ll try to rest. And eat. Even if I eat less, it’s still twice as much as you.”
Despite the teasing, her lips didn’t so much as twitch upward.
What’s with her tonight? he thought. Is she really worried about me?
Still, her sudden melancholy felt oddly heavy—almost burdensome. Trying to ease the air, Dante smiled faintly and met her gaze.
“So, what should I do then?”
“…”
“What do you want me to do right now?”
Her lashes trembled as she looked up at him.
What should I do…?
What can you even do, Dante?
The words he’d once said to her—“What should I do for you, Riena?”—echoed through her mind.
And just like back then, she wanted to answer the same way. What could you possibly do?
Riena exhaled a small sigh and shook her head.
“Don’t do anything… Just go to sleep.”
Finally, a faint smile touched her lips as she met his eyes.
“You said you wanted me to nurse you. Is this how a patient behaves?”
Dante studied her expression for a long moment before speaking again.
“I can’t sleep now. You’ve kept me wide awake.”
“…Then should I make you some tea?” she asked, ignoring the gentle accusation in his tone.
“No. You woke me up, so you’ll have to help me fall asleep again.”
As he spoke, he reclined back onto the bed and gently tugged her wrist.
“Lie down.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
“There was a study, you know—said people sleep better when someone’s beside them.”
Riena narrowed her eyes.
“And which scholar said that?”
“Lord Hudson mentioned reading it in a paper once.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true,” he said, his deep voice firm, almost convincing.
“Even so… sleeping together is…”
“Then don’t sleep. Just lie next to me.”
It was absurd. Ridiculous.
She opened her mouth to refuse again, but he cut in first.
“You said you’d take care of me. Remember?”
His golden eyes softened, sincere and faintly pleading.
“That’s… not what I meant.”
“Riena.”
Her name left his lips like a quiet command, gentle but impossible to ignore.
Riena shut her eyes tightly and sighed. Fine.
“…Move over.”
“As you wish.”
Smiling faintly, Dante shifted, creating space beside him.
Hesitant, she lifted her legs onto the bed and slowly lay down, still uneasy.
Without a word, Dante drew the blanket over her too.
Startled, Riena scooted toward the very edge of the bed.
“You’ll fall off,” he warned lightly.
Before she could protest, his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer until her head rested against his arm.
Only then did Dante finally smile in satisfaction.
“Now I can sleep.”
How can he act so natural about this?
The smooth way he moved left her no room to object. Completely bewildered, Riena covered her face with a hand.
This is insane. Even when she’d been the Duchess, they’d never shared a bed. Not once.
“We look like a married couple,” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone.
The words hit her like cold water.
Riena’s eyes flew open—and she immediately shoved at him, trying to get up.
