FSRBD CH 44

Chapter 44

Viscount Everchen still turned his head away in irritation, but the viscountess continued whispering in a sweet, coaxing voice.

“Think about it. Once we borrow the money from the Derive Merchant Guild and use it as the dowry, the Duke of Basteron’s family will treat us as proper in-laws.”

“…… But that’s just our assumption. What if they take the dowry and ignore us completely?”

“That won’t happen! The imperial family cares deeply about etiquette and appearances. If the Duke of Basteron’s family helps us that much, how much do you think our status will rise? And how many gifts do you think will follow?”

As if urging him to think carefully, the viscountess gently placed her hand on his shoulder and continued,

“When you think about that, does interest really matter? We can pay the interest diligently, save up, and eventually repay the principal. Then the Everchen territory stays safe, and we officially become relatives of a ducal house. Isn’t that right?”

The viscount let out a pained groan and sank heavily into the sofa.

If the Duke of Basteron’s family truly helped them, gathering three thousand gold would be easy.

But would things really go that smoothly…?

Seeing him still hesitate, the viscountess leaned fully into his arms, clutching his chest and speaking anxiously.

“Didn’t you hear? Count Overhan will be imprisoned soon. The Duke of Basteron’s family is the only place we can rely on now. We don’t have any other option.”

That was true.

Viscount Everchen had no ability to earn money on his own.

He had lived his entire life without working. As times changed and bourgeois merchants increased, even nobles began running small businesses—but the viscount simply didn’t want to.

The excuse of ‘nobles don’t work’ was just that—an excuse. He was simply lazy.

After failing to find any alternative solution, he finally gave in to his wife’s plan.

“Fine. Agnès has become rather insolent lately, but if things truly worsen, she won’t abandon us. Let’s do as you say.”

“You made the right decision, dear!”

The viscountess kissed her husband’s cheek and jumped to her feet, immediately instructing the butler waiting outside to summon the head of the Derive Merchant Guild.

“We’ll be able to host parties every day now!”

Her excited voice rang sharply through the Everchen estate.

Night fell completely, and darkness settled over the Basteron townhouse.

After singing Noah a lullaby and putting him into a deep sleep, Agnès carefully slipped out of bed.

Draping a shawl over her nightclothes and holding a candle, she walked quietly, tension evident in every step.

Before long, she stopped in front of Dylan’s bedroom.

Knock, knock.

When she knocked, Dylan opened the door as if he had been waiting and extended his hand to her.

Whether because of the silence of the night or her own heightened nerves, Agnès felt as if she could even hear the candle wax melting and dripping.

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit late. Noah fell asleep later than usual.”

“That’s all right. Just coming is enough.”

Dylan took the candleholder from her hand and placed it on the table.

Then he gently held her wrist and tilted his head slightly.

Agnès braced herself, expecting pain to pierce her skin—but Dylan seemed to hesitate, as if deep in thought.

“Your Grace?”

When she called softly, Dylan exhaled slowly, his brows drawn together.

“Agnès… While drinking your blood, I believe I may have touched you more than necessary. Is that correct?”

“Ah…”

Agnès avoided his gaze, flustered. Dylan’s eyes were red from hunger, and meeting them made her feel unsteady.

Dylan gripped her wrist once more, then slowly released it and sighed.

“As I thought. I intended to avoid unnecessary contact. This was my fault.”

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s not a problem. We’re going to be husband and wife, even if only in name… And you only held me a little. Please don’t worry about it.”

She spoke awkwardly, but her response only made Dylan’s heart feel heavier.

It felt as though he had confused a woman who couldn’t easily refuse him.

“…If I ever seem to lose control again, please push me away firmly. I don’t wish to act without manners.”

Agnès parted her lips as if to speak, but in the end, she simply nodded.

Dylan wanted to ask what she had been about to say—but he didn’t. It would likely have been another reassurance.

He gently supported her wrist again and lowered his head.

His sharp fangs pierced her pale skin, and the fresh scent of blood filled the bedroom.

Dylan’s breathing quickened as he drank the blood flowing into his mouth.

Why was Agnès’s blood so sweet?

Whenever he drank it, he found it nearly impossible to remain clear-headed.

It was more intoxicating than anything he had ever tasted in his life.

So intoxicating that he wanted to abandon dignity, restraint, courtesy—everything—and drink her blood endlessly.

As blood flowed from her wrist, he unconsciously licked her skin.

He wanted to maintain his composure, but each time Agnès flinched in pain, he felt his hands move toward her against his will.

As if restraining himself, Dylan clenched his fists tightly behind his back.

Thankfully, after drinking enough, his reason gradually returned, and his ragged breathing calmed.

He pulled his lips away from her wrist and carefully pressed a cloth he had prepared to stop the bleeding.

“Are you all right?”

His eyes had returned to their calm, cool blue. Agnès met his gaze and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Did I… unknowingly—”

“No. Not at all. Today, you only drank blood. Truly. You don’t need to worry.”

Her ears burning red, Agnès pressed her wrist gently where his lips had been—half to stop the bleeding, half as if lingering on his presence.

“Ah—well. Tomorrow, I’m planning to meet Count Overhan briefly. Would that be all right?”

“For what reason?”

“The priest suggested it would be good to accurately assess Noah’s magical talent. But I heard the official test results take months. I want to see if Count Overhan has already investigated anything. He knew Noah was a mage’s son.”

Agnès spoke faster than usual—clearly nervous.

Dylan didn’t point it out and simply nodded calmly.

“Do not forget to take Pavel with you.”

“Yes, I will. And… thank you for assigning Sir Pavel as my guard.”

“That is only natural.”

“Natural…”

Agnès lifted her head—and met Dylan’s gaze.

Golden eyes met blue ones in the air.

Almost at the same time, both of them looked away. It was an insignificant glance, yet strangely uncomfortable.

“Th-then I’ll go. I’ll come again in five days. Noah is in my room, so…”

“…Understood. Please be careful. And if you feel dizzy—”

“No, I’m fine! I’m quite used to it now, really.”

Agnès waved her hands hurriedly and laughed, then quickly left Dylan’s bedroom.

She had even forgotten the candle in her haste—but she thought it was for the best. She wanted to hide her burning face in the darkness.

“Today, he didn’t even hold me…”

She quickened her steps, pressing a hand to her flushed cheeks.

In truth, she knew exactly why she felt more embarrassed than usual.

Dylan’s gentlemanly restraint had left her feeling… disappointed.

When he said he didn’t want to act without manners, she had almost replied no without thinking.

Far from disliking it, she hadn’t minded being held by him.

“How improper… What am I even thinking?”

She was unbearably embarrassed.

Clutching the hem of her dress, Agnès nearly ran back to her bedroom.

The improper thoughts lingering in her mind made it impossible for her to lie down beside Noah immediately. She paced the room for a long while before finally sinking onto the bed, pressing a hand to her chest.

Only after holding Noah close did her racing heart finally calm enough for her to fall asleep.