Chapter 3
So this was the Roan Count’s family, was it? How audacious. Many families had been destroyed for attempting tricks far less reckless than this—were they foolish, or simply desperate?
Perhaps both. Either way, he could understand it to some extent.
What parent would willingly send their precious daughter to marry a murderous duke? And what kind of horror must it be for him, forced to take a bride he did not want—one he might have to kill?
The Duke of Berkian, lost in self-mocking thoughts, studied Lanya for a moment.
This girl was not truly a bride, so perhaps he could let her go. There was still time before the real one arrived—if he sent her away before then, everything should be fine. At least tonight, he would not have to stain his hands with blood.
“You don’t need to tremble like that. I won’t kill—urk!”
Before he could finish speaking, his expression twisted and he clutched his chest.
“Are… are you hurt?”
Startled by the sudden change, Lanya cautiously tried to look at him, but he gritted his teeth and commanded,
“Get out.”
Lanya stared at him blankly. Did I hear that correctly?
“Pardon?”
“I said get out—!”
Get out…?
Realizing this might be her chance, Lanya quickly rose to flee—but the Duke seized her wrist.
She flinched and turned back to him.
“What are you?”
The man who had just looked at her with a cold, indifferent expression now radiated something entirely different.
“Who are you to drive me mad like this?”
Though it was the same person, his atmosphere had changed completely.
And his eye color… had it changed?
Unless she was imagining things, his eyes had been black only moments ago. Now they were crimson.
Terrified, Lanya shuffled backward, pressing herself into the corner of the bed. But the man advanced, smiling as if he had found an amusing toy.
“Why are you coming closer?”
She tried to retreat further, but he caught her.
His body radiated an unfamiliar heat. Up close, his breathing was rough, his face damp with sweat, and the corners of his eyes were faintly red.
Was he sick? Worried despite herself, Lanya studied him, and the Duke inhaled deeply, as if savoring something intoxicating.
“What is this maddening scent you carry?”
“I—I am the bride…”
“The bride?”
He looked at her intently, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Then he smiled—like someone who had discovered a precious jewel.
It was the most beautiful smile Lanya had ever seen.
His pale skin contrasted with hair as dark as pitch, and his red eyes shimmered like rubies.
Long lashes framed his eyes, his nose was perfectly shaped, and his lips—thin yet graceful—curved in an alluring line. Beneath his disheveled white shirt, his long neck and defined collarbones were visible…
The Duke was strikingly handsome—so much so that he could have been called more beautiful than the most celebrated noble ladies.
For a foolish moment, Lanya forgot that this man was a murderous monster. Her mouth fell slightly open as she stared at him.
The Duke smiled, lengthening his lips in amusement.
“Ah, so you’re the new bride the Emperor sent. They kept sending me wretched excuses for brides, but this time they finally did it properly.”
His long fingers brushed her cheek.
Lanya trembled, swallowing hard.
“I like you.”
He breathed deeply, as if intoxicated, and lowered his head to her neck.
Then he grasped her dress as if to tear it, pulling it down from her shoulder—and pressed his lips to the exposed skin of her chest.
The moment his mouth bit down, Lanya regained her senses and gasped, scrambling backward.
“What are you doing!”
“What do you mean? You’re the bride. We must spend the first night together.”
“That’s…!”
“Now, will you come to me?”
He reached for her, and she was dragged into his arms in an instant.
His breath brushed her ear, rough and uneven. Trapped in his embrace, she struggled to push him away, but he frowned in irritation.
“Honestly, I have no patience.”
“Like I said—I’m not actually the bride!”
“But you said you were.”
Lanya’s thoughts spiraled. This was maddening. He had said he would let her go—so why was he now acting as if she had to be his bride? She couldn’t understand why he suddenly behaved like a different person.
Finally, she snapped in frustration.
“I told you I came as a bride, but I’m not the real one! I told you the true bride—the young lady I serve—ran away!”
“So what? I like you.”
Still smiling, he interrupted.
“I don’t care.”
Lanya stared at him, exasperated.
“What do you mean…?”
“I don’t want to let you go.”
Meeting her gaze, the Duke chuckled.
“Why don’t you just be my bride? Right now, I feel like I might go insane if I don’t lick you all over.”
In an instant, he lifted her and threw her onto the bed, climbing over her.
“Eek!”
A scream escaped Lanya’s lips.
His lustful face loomed inches away. Beneath thick, curled lashes, his eyes burned with desire.
“Ha… look at that. Your scent is driving me mad. Can you feel it?”
Before she realized it, something pressed against her beneath him.
What… what is that?
Confused and embarrassed, she froze. He smirked.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re an innocent little child. Well, that’s not bad.”
Then he moved more deliberately.
“Teaching you might be fun.”
Too late, Lanya realized what was pressing against her.
Her face turned crimson.
The maidservants had sometimes whispered nonsense about how a man’s… well… should be large. That must be what they meant.
“P-please stop!”
She could not push him away, only gripping the blanket tightly.
“I really am not the bride. The real one is my mistress—she fled!”
“Doesn’t matter. I like you.”
Still grinning, he cut her off. Frustrated, Lanya stared at him, but he suddenly lowered his head and sniffed at her neck like an animal.
“I must ease this burning pain.”
His breath against her skin made her body freeze like stone.
“And you are easing it… ah…”
Inhaling deeply as if savoring her scent, he tilted his head back in ecstasy before opening his eyes again.
“See? Just breathing you in makes me feel alive. I want to sink into you. I have never felt this way before… I usually wanted to tear people apart.”
His playful expression vanished for a moment, replaced by something chilling.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he smiled again.
“But you’re different. I want to taste you. To kiss you. To… lick you.”
He touched her cheek.
“What on earth are you?”
He rubbed his nose against hers teasingly.
“What are you doing to drive me so insane?”
While he sniffed at her neck like a dog, his hand lifted the hem of her dress and slid toward the inside of her thigh.
Lanya panicked and tried to struggle away—but he gripped her leg firmly.
His breathing grew harsher. Their bodies burned, feverish with heat.
“Stay still.”
