Chapter 76
***
“Oh my, look how deft your hands are!”
“Just looking at your face, I’d never have guessed you’ve ever done this sort of work before… I like it!”
“Thank you.”
Riena smiled softly, lowering her brows as she stood among the middle-aged women.
“Oh, if only she’d talk to me that sweetly!”
Sharon grumbled beside her, sulking at the one-sided praise.
“Rena, you’re already used to this, huh?”
“…No. Of course not.”
Riena smiled awkwardly and shook her head, kneading the dough in her hands with careful rhythm.
The plaza of Florian—smaller but reminiscent of Behern—was bustling with preparations for the welcome ceremony to greet the returning navy soldiers.
Men hauled heavy tables and chairs, while women busied themselves arranging flowers and preparing food.
Because of that, both Riena and Sharon had been helping since early morning.
And somehow, Riena had caught the eyes of the chattiest ladies there. Compliments poured endlessly—about how refined she looked, how she didn’t seem like someone from the countryside. At first, she had blushed shyly, but now she simply smiled and laughed it off.
“I’m never turning into one of them,” Sharon muttered under her breath.
Riena glanced at her and couldn’t help but smile faintly. In about twenty years, Sharon would probably be leading that same group of gossiping ladies—and Riena was almost certain of it.
“Still,” she said lightly, “it feels nice to be complimented.”
“Rena, you’re the last person who should say that. Someone who’s been complimented her entire life doesn’t get to pretend that’s new.”
Riena flinched ever so slightly but shrugged it off with a teasing grin.
“Really? Then that’s another compliment. Thanks.”
“…Unbelievable. You’re getting more like him every day,” Sharon said, frowning deeply.
There was a new sharpness to Riena lately—a touch of boldness Sharon had never seen before.
And of course, she was becoming more and more like him.
“…Oh my god.”
Riena looked up at Sharon’s sudden, strangled whisper.
“What is it? Give me a second—”
“No, you really… you really need to look at this.”
Sharon’s hand smacked Riena’s arm in a panicked rhythm. Her voice trembled as she forced the words out.
Riena finally covered the dough with a cloth and looked up—only to find Sharon frozen stiff, her eyes locked on something behind her.
“What’s wrong? A bug?”
“Close enough,” Sharon muttered under her breath, swallowing hard.
Because he was right there.
Still oblivious, Riena tilted her head and peeked over Sharon’s shoulder.
“…Huh?”
Standing near the long table piled with food was a tall man in an immaculate black suit.
He wasn’t actually standing at a slant, but the aura he gave off felt anything but ordinary.
“…Huh?”
Dante echoed her sound mockingly, tilting his head slightly to one side.
At that moment, Sharon wordlessly sidestepped between them—then, very theatrically, said, “Oh! I think they need more help over there! Oh dear, I’d better go! Rena, keep an eye on that dough for me!”
Her exaggerated, high-pitched voice rang absurdly loud across the bustling square.
It was enough to jolt Riena back to her senses. The plaza, which should have been filled with laughter and chatter, had fallen completely silent. You could even hear someone sniffle in the distance.
And the reason was obvious—the man standing right in front of her.
Riena understood the situation almost immediately.
“…Why are you here?”
“You didn’t come. So I came.”
Dante’s voice was lazy, his tone edged with annoyance.
Riena blinked at him, then glanced around.
Amid the townsfolk dressed in plain clothes and aprons, Dante—immaculate in an expensive tailored suit—stood out like a diamond in the dirt.
Not that it was only because of the suit… but still.
Sharon had already fled to the far end of the plaza and was pretending to be deeply invested in cutting vegetables. Everyone else, however, had their eyes fixed squarely on Riena and Dante.
Riena sighed. She hated being the center of attention. Quickly wiping her hands on her apron, she gave him a small shove on the arm.
“Follow me.”
She led him to a quieter street not far from the square, stopping in front of a closed candy shop.
With a long exhale, she turned to face him.
“You can’t just show up here.”
Her voice was sharper now, almost scolding. Dante frowned slightly.
“Is there a law that says I can’t?”
Riena gave him an incredulous look, sighed again, and muttered, “That’s not the point. You’re too noticeable.”
And if he was noticeable, she would be, too. Which meant the risk of being discovered would rise sharply.
His golden eyes fixed steadily on hers.
“Why didn’t you come? I sent Callis.”
“I told him I was too busy. You just saw me—I’m helping with the preparations.”
Dante did know. Callis had mentioned there was an event today to welcome the navy from Florian.
But what did that have to do with him?
He barely managed to suppress the irritation bubbling inside.
“Why are you doing that kind of thing?”
His careless tone made Riena’s brows twitch.
“That kind of thing?”
Her voice dropped low.
“You’ve probably never done anything like that in your life, but that’s what ordinary people do, Your Grace.”
When Riena got angry, her words grew precise, every syllable crisp and deliberate.
And right now, her tone was very clear.
“I’m just like them. An ordinary person.”
Dante watched her for a moment—her jaw set, her eyes flashing—and then said quietly,
“I’m in pain.”
“…What?”
“I said I’m in pain.”
Riena blinked, caught off guard.
Was this man—the cold, stoic Duke of Venachert—actually saying what she thought he was saying?
“…Where exactly?”
“Everywhere.”
“You came all the way here just to tell me that you’re hurting?”
She stared at him in disbelief. For the first time, he looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
Riena let out a hollow laugh.
“You do realize you’re five years older than me, right?”
“So what?” he shot back smoothly. “I can’t tell you I’m in pain just because I’m older?”
There was a hint of irritation in his voice now.
“Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
“Because you make me do things I normally wouldn’t.”
“When did I ever—”
Their exchange, if overheard, would’ve sounded like a trivial lover’s quarrel. Petty, childish, and yet… it was happening between Riena Bronte and Dante Venachert.
A fact absurd enough on its own.
Dante’s golden eyes narrowed.
“What have you been doing these past two weeks?”
The question was sharp, sudden.
Riena almost smacked her own cheek just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Normally, his insistence would’ve annoyed her, but now… something in his tone made her chest tighten.
“So if I don’t come to you first, you won’t come to me at all?”
“…”
“I had to come myself just to see you. Is that such a bad thing?”
Riena pressed her lips together, holding back the words that rose to her throat.
The proud, cold Duke of Venachert… was pouting.
