FSRBD CH 46

Chapter 46

Apart from the emotional stability Noah and Agnes gave each other, their busy daily lives continued.

Yesterday, they had gone to the Mages’ Association to test Noah’s magical aptitude. The results would take about a month, so they would likely receive them only after arriving in the North.

During the day, Odile the seamstress came by to take Noah’s measurements and also showed them Agnes’s wedding dress, which she had been working on.

There could be absolutely no problems with this wedding.

Dylan’s reputation was one thing, but the Emperor’s interest in the marriage had something vaguely ominous about it.

Under the pretext of helping with the wedding, he sent various things—among them, one of his close attendant maids.

Whether she was deliberately making it obvious or was simply incompetent, the maid would carry out her assigned tasks but often watched Agnes as if observing her, which made her uncomfortable.

Spending the entire wedding preparation period with a woman whose intentions were unreadable was draining in itself.

Exhausted to the point that her appetite had vanished, Agnes ate a light dinner and returned to her bedroom to rest for a bit.

While she leaned back on the sofa with her eyes closed, Noah sat beside her, reading a fairy-tale book.

Today makes the fifth day…

It had already been five days since she had last given Dylan her blood. Before long, she would have to go to his bedroom to do so again.

Agnes checked the time one last time. It was 7:30 p.m.

Just thirty minutes. I’ll close my eyes for exactly thirty minutes.

Resolving that, Agnes sank deeper into the sofa backrest and closed her eyes.

From time to time, Noah’s voice—earnestly trying to read the sentences of the fairy tale out loud—sounded just like a lullaby.

Agnes meant to praise Noah, but she couldn’t overcome the drowsiness and her head drooped.

How long had she slept?

By her own sense, not even ten minutes had passed, but she felt a faint sense of unease in the air against the tip of her nose.

And then—

“…Do you like this book?”

“Do you like it?”

Right beside her, Dylan’s low voice and Noah’s young voice sounded together. Then Dylan spoke again, his tone clearly puzzled.

“Are you repeating what I say?”

Agnes’ eyes flew open as she looked toward the voices. Dylan was kneeling on one knee in front of Noah, wearing a serious expression.

Startled, Agnes jumped to her feet and apologized hurriedly.

“Your Grace, I’m so sorry. I meant to sleep for just thirty minutes, but somehow…”

When she checked the time, it was already past nine. Flustered, Agnes placed her hands on Noah’s shoulders.

“And Noah is still in the process of recovering, so it seems easier for him to repeat what others say rather than speak on his own. He absolutely didn’t mean to be disrespectful to Your Grace. I’m really sorry.”

As Agnes poured out apologies, Dylan straightened and waved one hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. I understand being late, and even more so when it concerns a child. I was wondering how much Noah had recovered anyway—this turned out to be a good opportunity.”

Dylan looked down as if examining Noah’s condition, and Noah stared straight back up at him.

Agnes had thought so before, but she found Noah’s reaction fascinating.

To Agnes, Dylan didn’t look to be in very good condition.

Once more than five days passed after drinking blood, Dylan gradually became more irritable, and even ordinary people would instinctively sense something off and avoid him.

But Noah showed no such aversion or fear, simply blinking his round eyes.

Perhaps Dylan also found this curious. After watching the child for a moment, he rubbed his brow and let out a soft groan.

“You look very tired. Please rest for today. I was about to leave anyway.”

With a brief bow, devoid of any lingering attachment, Dylan left the bedroom.

After gently patting Noah’s shoulder, Agnes hurried after Dylan.

She asked a maid standing outside the door to call Lizzy, then chased after Dylan, who had already walked some distance ahead.

“Your Grace.”

Gripping the hem of her skirt as she half ran, Agnes called out to him in a breathless voice.

As if he had heard her, Dylan stopped. When he slowly turned to face her, a red glint flickered in his eyes before fading.

“Your Grace, today is the fifth day. I’ll go with you.”

“It’s fine. I know how busy you’ve been lately, barely able to rest even for a moment. I can take care of it appropriately.”

By “take care of it appropriately,” he likely meant feeding on vile criminals like death-row inmates, as he had before.

That wouldn’t do. Agnes didn’t want Dylan to sink back into that pit of self-loathing again.

And with so much attention focused on them right now, especially because of the upcoming wedding, he needed to avoid anything that could cause trouble.

Shaking her head firmly, Agnes tried to persuade him.

“You said there are already people who suspect you. With the wedding coming up, everyone will be watching you closely. With so many eyes on you, it’ll naturally be hard to act freely, and also—”

Before she could finish, Dylan grabbed Agnes’ arm and pulled her sharply toward him.

His breath brushed her forehead.

Agnes looked up at him in shock. Dylan’s eyes were completely stained red.

Tilting his head beside her cheek, Dylan inhaled deeply.

The sound of his breathing was careful and sharp, like a predator searching for prey. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

She felt a chilling sense that at any moment, Dylan’s sharp fangs might sink into her neck.

“…Young lady, it is far more difficult for me to maintain my patience than you seem to think.”

After issuing the warning in a low, ominous voice, Dylan released her arm and stepped back.

“I don’t wish to place another burden on my exhausted fiancée. Please return.”

Leaving behind his usual courteous words, Dylan walked away at a slightly hurried pace.

Agnes stood there blankly, struck by the immense distance he had put between them, then once again chased after him.

“Your Grace. Please, just a moment.”

Dylan let out a deep sigh and slowly turned around. Even Agnes could feel that his patience had reached its limit.

Her expression was more tense than before, but she didn’t retreat.

Carefully taking hold of Dylan’s arm, Agnes spoke with a serious look.

“Your Grace, I’m worried about you too.”

Her golden eyes met his directly.

She didn’t avoid those eyes that flickered like red mist—eyes that others feared and called monstrous. Instead, she said she was worried.

“It might be presumptuous of someone as lacking as me to worry about you. But just as you worry about my health, I feel uneasy when you’re suffering.”

Dylan looked at the woman before him with unfamiliar eyes. The woman he had thought he must protect and guard was now saying that she wanted to protect him as well.

When Dylan gave no response, Agnes smiled awkwardly and touched her own cheek.

“…If I send you off like this anyway, I’ll just lie awake worrying about you. Wouldn’t that be no different from when you drink my blood?”

Agnes was the sort of woman who made unfunny jokes like that and called them humor. But Dylan—Dylan alone could smile at such a trivial joke.

Somehow, it felt pointless to keep pushing Agnes away. No matter how much he did, she would keep approaching him steadfastly.

This strange sense of defeat wasn’t unpleasant. Rather…

After pressing his brow in troubled thought for a moment, Dylan finally nodded.

“Very well.”

Turning over his complicated emotions, Dylan gently took Agnes’ hand and escorted her to his bedroom.

“Please sit here.”

He offered her a seat on the sofa at one side of the room.

With a tense expression, Agnes extended her wrist toward him, but the tension was noticeably less than before.

Dylan gently grasped her wrist and lifted it toward his lips.