IOMB 41

CHAPTER 41………….

Cordelia was famous for her monstrous tolerance for alcohol—so much that she was called a bottomless jar. But that didn’t mean she had no drunken habits at all. She just got a little lighter, more impulsive than usual.

Being around someone who ate and drank a lot tended to make her drink more, too. So when she sat across from her father, who could match her drink for drink, she ended up drinking far more than she normally would.

By the time the party broke up late at night, Cordelia was in high spirits. Even when she roused Noah, who had collapsed onto the table, she was still giggling.

He couldn’t even walk properly, so she had to call in two servants to carry him. Her plan was to leave him in his room—and maybe admire his sleeping face while she was at it. As always, her tipsiness triumphed over reason.

Placing a lamp on the table, she let the orange glow spill across his face and gazed her fill.

Noah even slept like himself. His deathlike stillness reminded her of the prince in Sleeping Beauty. Every so often she’d put a finger under his nose, and only when she felt his breath did she relax.

She wanted to smooth his brow when it creased as though plagued by nightmares, but she settled for playing with his black hair spilling across the sheets.

Even asleep and disheveled, he was handsome. If she’d had a pen, she would’ve recorded her feelings right then.

And when he woke, she’d probably have flung the blankets over herself in embarrassment.

When her drowsy eyes finally cracked open, white and brown blurred together in a dizzy spin. Looking higher, she realized someone was staring down at her. Cordelia mumbled without thinking:

“Handsome…”

“Uh, um, Lady Cordelia…?”

What? A handsome man saying my name? Is this a dream?

“Ah!”

She snapped her eyes open and bolted upright. Noah, hair tousled from being pressed down, blinked back at her awkwardly.

“Are you awake now?”

Cordelia’s hungover head spun into overdrive. Maybe it was the handsome face that greased her tongue, but she blurted without hesitation:

“Wait… I didn’t really assault you, did I?”

“No!”

Noah denied it at once, then quickly added to Cordelia, who was staring at him blankly:

“This is my room. If you don’t go back soon, there’ll be a problem…”

At last, Cordelia looked around, then at the mirror in the room.

“Eek!”

She was still in last night’s dress, her hair neat on one side and a tangled mess on the other. Her face looked slightly puffy from the alcohol, and the lingering effects were buzzing faintly in her head.

But the real emergency wasn’t her headache.

“A comb. Comb.”

Thankfully, there was one in a drawer. She hastily fixed her hair and straightened herself while Noah watched in fascination. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, Cordelia froze, then turned around, flustered.

“What are you staring at?”

“You just looked… like a cat.”

“A cat?”

Like a cat grooming its fur with its tongue. He didn’t dare explain that part, knowing she’d be offended. Cordelia tilted her head, then waved the comb.

“Want me to brush yours too?”

“No, I think it’d be better if you returned quickly—”

He stopped when sounds came from outside the door. A chill ran down his spine.

“Hide. Now.”

Cordelia glanced around, but the plain room offered nowhere to hide—just the bed, a chair, a table, a mirror, and a clock.

What do I do?

“Are you in there?”

A knock followed the voice calling Noah’s name. After a pause, the door opened.

“Good morning, Your Grace. Forgive me for being late; I was preparing.”

The hulking figure who entered made the servants flanking Isaac flinch. Despite his intimidating appearance, the man’s voice was polite and gentle, though it did little to ease the tension.

“Good morning. Up so early—you’re diligent.”

Noah only smiled faintly in response. To a craftsman, mornings were usually much earlier than this, but a nobleman would never understand that.

“Well, that aside… Have you seen Cody? Her maid says she’s missing from her room this morning.”

Even as Isaac smiled kindly, his sharp eyes swept Noah’s chamber. Noah subtly shifted aside.

There was nothing in the room. Hardly any furniture at all—so bare it even unsettled Isaac. He’d ordered a sunny, clean room because Noah disliked lavishness, but wasn’t this too spartan?

Isaac cleared his throat to cover the awkwardness.

“Is everything comfortable enough?”

“Yes, I’m fine here.”

“Still, it’s troubling. If you don’t know where she went either, then where could she be?”

“Perhaps out for a walk?”

“Maybe…”

She’s not the type to wake up this early, though. Muttering, Isaac turned to leave. When the door closed and the footsteps faded, a small voice whispered near Noah’s ear.

“Gone?”

“Yes…”

Turning back toward the bed, Noah watched as the sheets hanging to the floor stirred. Cordelia’s face popped out.

“Whew, that was close. I thought he might actually come in.”

“It would’ve been rude to intrude, anyway.”

Noah knelt and offered his hand. Cordelia crawled out and took it, rising to her feet. She dusted off her dress, the particles fluttering in the sun.

She kept her smile steady, but her face was burning. Mortifying, truly.

“Good thing we didn’t get caught.”

“My heart nearly jumped out.”

I promised nothing would ever harm her. That she’d never suffer because of me.

And yet, he’d almost become an ungrateful scoundrel. He told himself reputation didn’t matter, but he couldn’t bear to look that pitiful to those who knew his past. Pride, maybe.

Cordelia rinsed her mouth with water from the table, then stared at Noah.

Seeing his visible relief left her with mixed feelings. She knew the logic, but feelings didn’t always obey logic.

“Noah.”

“Yes.”

“Do you really hate the idea of rumors about us that much?”

“I’m more worried about you. You have more to lose than I do.”

“That’s such a boring, textbook answer. Forget it.”

Cordelia stepped closer. Noah stepped back. Step by step, until his back hit the wall. She pressed her hands against the wall and leaned in. Noah froze as her face neared.

“Even if I’m this close… you feel nothing? Really?”

Her sharp features, her dazzling eyes, the faint scent of alcohol mixed with her own fragrance—all of it assaulted his senses.

So this is why she was called the kingdom’s greatest beauty. Even in rags, she would be stunning.

Spellbound, Noah answered.

“It makes me want to praise you.”

“What?”

“As an artist, no one could look at you without their heart trembling.”

His words propped up her pride while sidestepping her real question. It only made her pout more.

“I know. That’s why everyone desires me—as if I were a statue.”

“A statue can only preserve beauty. No work of art is more beautiful than life in motion.”

“And I, this living statue, am clinging to you. You still don’t want me?”

Like a dog caught by the collar, Noah couldn’t move. He only shook his head, breath tight, as though strangled.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

Her sharp gaze demanded a reason. Reluctantly, he spoke.

“Because I’m not a naïve child anymore.”

Because he knew that beautiful memories with her were just that—memories that would never return. Once, he could’ve shyly offered a flower to show his feelings. That time was long gone.

It felt like drowning, but Noah forced himself to continue calmly.

“Cordelia. It’s not pleasant, when everyone you know turns their back on you in an instant.”

Unfiltered emotions had taught him too much. He’d gained, but lost far more.

At sixteen, he learned the eyes of suspicion and scorn. He grew accustomed to constant surveillance. Worst of all had been his mother’s vacant expression—but even that he eventually endured.

Eight years of living like a candle in the wind, shrinking at every step, never knowing what might happen. He knew too well: even this fragile freedom was like sand, ready to slip away at any time.

“I don’t want anyone to go through that because of me.”

It had all begun with a foolish wish born of ignorance. Though not by his choice, he was determined to take responsibility until the end.

“It doesn’t matter who asks—it wouldn’t change my answer. I won’t create someone precious to me that way.”

“Because you don’t want to make anyone unhappy?”

He flinched at her direct hit, then finally admitted:

“…Yes.”

He’s so straight-laced, he might snap.

Cordelia frowned slightly at the thought. Where had he been hiding until now? Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t deny she liked that about him too.

“I’m glad I met you, Cordelia. But that’s all.”

Just the fading trace of a first love. Withered remnants that would never bloom again. He had no wish to revive them.

He couldn’t.

Not only was it impossible to love with that same pure heart, but the thought of making her unhappy terrified him.