Chapter 49
Right in front of her eyes was Lerajie’s broad chest.
When his arms, which had been folded, suddenly moved up toward her head, Calliope instinctively flinched.
W–what is this?
It almost looked as though she was being pulled into his embrace.
As Calliope stiffened in surprise, a faint click sounded by her left temple.
Lerajie stepped back a pace, tugging at the corner of his lips.
“It suits you… well enough.”
Calliope lifted her hand and felt around her head. Her fingers brushed against a headpiece—round, hard jewels strung together in a row.
And at that exact moment, gasps and exclamations burst from all around.
“Oh my, how romantic!”
“That hair ornament…!”
Calliope’s eyes darted quickly around the banquet hall. Every gaze was fixed on them, full of awe and admiration.
Must be quite an expensive piece then.
At the very least, it had succeeded in drawing everyone’s attention to her in an instant. That alone pleased her.
Not bad at all.
She raised her hand and gave a graceful flick of her fingers toward Lerajie, who understood at once and leaned down toward her.
To outsiders, it looked like an intimate moment between lovers whispering sweet nothings. But the reality was far different.
“You’re full of surprises. When did you even prepare something like this?”
“I told you, I’m taking this seriously in my own way.”
“I see… I must’ve underestimated your resolve. My apologies for that.”
When Calliope nodded as if accepting his apology, Lerajie’s gaze narrowed.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re making me uneasy.”
“Well, since I’ve come to appreciate your determination, I’d like to ask one little favor.”
“No. Don’t.”
“I’m going to anyway.”
“Hey—”
Ignoring his exasperation, Calliope spoke clearly:
“Lend me your cheek.”
Thankfully, it was nothing outrageous. Lerajie shrugged and answered readily.
“You’re going to hit me? Just don’t go too hard.”
Calliope’s eyes sharpened.
“Do I look like the kind of trash who’d strike my fiancé, to whom I’ve given a gift?”
“Then what are you planning to do with my cheek?”
Looking genuinely puzzled, Lerajie tilted his head—only for Calliope to drop a bomb.
“A kiss of gratitude?”
Lerajie’s face twisted magnificently this time.
He raised his hand to discreetly cover his face from the crowd and ground his teeth.
“…Calliope Verdi. Have you finally lost your mind?”
“Perfectly sane, thank you.”
Lerajie let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“Why not just go all the way and kiss me on the lips while you’re at it?”
“Shall I?”
When Calliope countered as if she truly could, Lerajie’s expression went blank.
“Come to think of it, a kiss in front of all these people… that would certainly cement our relationship as official.”
As Calliope seemed to be seriously considering it, Lerajie hastily tried to stop her.
“Wait, hold on—that’s not what I—”
“Wasn’t it you who said you were serious about this?”
“…Let’s compromise with just the cheek. Deal?”
“You should’ve said so from the start.”
Smiling meaningfully, Calliope stepped back.
She deliberately swept her gaze around the room, then rose slightly on her toes.
Chuu.
Her lips brushed his cheek and fell away.
“Oh my goodness, did you see that?”
“Young people these days… so bold!”
“How daring, truly.”
A few nobles frowned at the blatant display of affection, but they were the minority.
Her reputation was not fragile enough to be tarnished by something as small as a kiss on the cheek.
On the contrary, as one of the most admired young nobles, Calliope’s every action was often hailed as bold and trend-setting.
“I always wondered how Lady Calliope would act with a man by her side, and of course—she’s as forward in romance as she is in everything else!”
“Look at that dress too. Such a daring color—no one but her could have pulled it off.”
Letting those remarks drift behind her, Calliope shot Lerajie a mischievous grin.
“Did you hear that? That’s the discerning eye of high society’s finest… hmm?”
The tips of Lerajie’s ears had turned faintly red. Calliope’s lips curved knowingly.
“You’re not actually embarrassed, are you—”
“As if.”
He smoothed his expression quickly and replied without a hint of shame.
“My own eye for beauty isn’t bad either, you know.”
He jerked his chin toward another cluster of nobles.
“The Seventh Prince, for instance—he pulls off even that audacious design. Proof that it’s the person, not the clothes, that truly matters.”
“That rebellious gaze, that strange decadent charm… doesn’t it fit his reckless personality perfectly? If nothing else, he’s the unrivaled masterpiece of the imperial family in looks.”
“Hmph.” Calliope snorted softly and slipped her arm back through Lerajie’s, whispering like a ventriloquist.
“Then keep your face in check.”
Lerajie turned slightly toward her, sweeping a lock of her red hair behind her ear as he murmured:
“You still don’t get it, do you? A tall, handsome man is a rare treasure—almost like a dragon out of legend.”
“And?”
Calliope traced her fingertips down his cheek.
Her red lipstick smudge smeared faintly under her touch, drawing more stares from those around them.
Lerajie’s eyes curved in a smile, his face blooming like a flower.
“And what does it feel like, dating a dragon?”
This time, their voices were not hushed whispers. The nobles nearby pricked up their ears.
Calliope met his provocation head-on.
“Thrilling. Exciting. Enough to drive me mad.”
She said it aloud, for everyone to hear.
“Oh my!”
“Good heavens…!”
Gasps rippled through the crowd at the unabashed declaration.
Of course, Lerajie knew perfectly well that Calliope’s words meant something entirely different from what the nobles assumed.
Leaning close, he murmured low enough for only her to hear:
“At this rate, your wordplay is practically art.”
“It isn’t a lie though, is it?”
Calliope lifted her shoulders proudly.
She brushed the lipstick mark on his cheek with her fingertip and added:
“Still, I do like the thought of leaving my mark on you. Makes you look mine. But hm… such a pretty face shouldn’t be ruined. What shall I do?”
“You’re surprisingly possessive.”
“Of course.”
She tapped his chin lightly with a frown.
“My possessiveness runs deep. Sylvia is bound by a lifetime contract. Agnes—if she takes any outside work without my permission, she has to return everything she’s earned so far. And Harold is sworn to serve House Verdi until death.”
“…So all three are bound for life.”
Lerajie blinked, then suddenly seemed to realize something. His eyes widened in alarm.
He leaned in, whispering urgently into her ear:
“Don’t tell me—I’m not one of them, am I?”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re definitely a temporary hire.”
At her reply, Lerajie finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank goodness. That could’ve been disastrous.”
He smiled contentedly, though Calliope couldn’t help but feel vaguely irritated.
Disastrous? What exactly would’ve been so terrible about it?
Before she could dwell on the feeling, a deep horn sounded through the hall.
She straightened at once and closed her mouth.
The horn meant only one thing: the emperor was about to enter.
The resonant blare carried on, then faded. Immediately after, a chamberlain’s voice rang out in full command.
“His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, Her Imperial Majesty the Empress, and His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince enter!”
