chapter 37:
“You Bother Me. Everything About You.”
——
Startled by the silent presence behind her, Celia turned to find none other than Dietrich standing there—the very man she had been searching for.
Backlit by sunlight and clad in black armor, Dietrich stepped forward and firmly fastened her cloak.
“It’s a cloak. Tailored exactly to your size.”
Bending down, his veined hand carefully began fastening each button of the pink cloak. The faint bite marks on her collarbone were now completely hidden beneath it.
Anderson, watching this from the side, asked in disbelief:
“Your Grace, don’t tell me… you left the Imperial Palace earlier just to buy that outfit?”
“……”
“If it was just for clothes, you could have sent me instead…”
Dietrich straightened and looked at Anderson.
“There’s a rumor going around that the Crown Prince’s face has become disfigured. Find out exactly what’s going on.”
Anderson looked like he had a lot more to say, but Dietrich’s demeanor left no room for protest. He quietly backed off.
“…Understood.”
Once Anderson left, Dietrich brought Celia into his mansion.
Unlike last time, when a few blind maids had been present, the corridor was now completely empty.
Puzzled, Celia asked:
“There were a few maids here before. Why aren’t there any now?”
“…I fired them all.”
Celia tilted her head at his response.
“All of them? There weren’t many to begin with.”
“One of them turned out to be a spy for Ileon. There’s no guarantee the others weren’t as well.”
Celia was stunned. Not because of the spy—but because of how calmly Dietrich said it.
“Has this happened… often?”
“Too many times to count.”
“……”
Celia fell silent in thought. If what Dietrich said was true, it meant Ileon was keeping a close watch on him. So why had the Emperor allowed Dietrich to be granted a dukedom?
And she realized—Dietrich, who had always kept things from her, was now speaking openly and honestly.
Did that mean he finally trusted her? Or…
She looked at his impassive face and asked quietly:
“You don’t think I’m a spy?”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Dietrich’s lips.
It was just a slight curve, but the frigid atmosphere around him seemed to melt away entirely.
“You’re not a spy.”
The certainty in his voice made Celia’s eyes widen.
She was about to ask why he was so sure, but before she could speak, Dietrich continued, the smile now gone:
“Ah, I forgot the dagger.”
He pulled a dagger from his coat and handed it to her.
It was the same one he had used when teaching her knife skills, sheathed in a black scabbard.
“That dress you’re wearing now isn’t suited for hiding a dagger.”
Dietrich led Celia to a room on the third floor.
The spacious room was minimally furnished: a wardrobe, a soft sofa, a desk with a chair for work, and a bookshelf lining one wall.
Celia looked around. With no bed in sight, she honestly wondered if Dietrich ever slept.
Without a word, he opened the wardrobe and retrieved a box from the bottom.
Click.
Inside the box was a white satin dress and a pair of flat silver shoes.
Though also white, the style was clearly different from the mermaid dress Celia was currently wearing. This one was airy and modest, with loose sleeves and a neckline that came up to the collar. There were even hidden pockets inside the dress—perfect for concealing a dagger.
It was a dress that prioritized practicality over beauty.
“What is this?”
“A gift for you.”
He answered instantly.
“I was actually planning to give it to you on the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet.”
“……”
“But it seems I’m giving it to you a bit earlier than expected.”
He gently guided Celia to sit on the soft sofa.
“This will be more comfortable than what you’re wearing now.”
He handed her the dress.
“You can change by yourself, right?”
“…You.”
Celia met his gaze.
The red eyes under his straight brows now held a warmth she wasn’t used to.
Kindness and gentleness—Celia wasn’t familiar with such things. Having been exploited her whole life, she had learned to distrust kindness by instinct.
Even if Dietrich truly needed her…
“What’s your real goal?”
“……”
“Tell me. That’s the only way I can help you.”
Dietrich leaned an arm on the sofa’s armrest and looked down at her.
After a brief silence, he suddenly dropped to one knee in front of her and began undoing each button on her cloak.
“I’m asking what your goal is.”
“…Celia.”
He spoke her name in a low voice and continued:
“Maybe… the same as yours.”
A vague answer.
Not what Celia wanted to hear.
She needed certainty.
“Do you want Avalon to fall… just like I do?”
And so, she said it. The truth she had kept buried deep inside, never spoken aloud to anyone.
As the final button came undone, her collarbone—still faintly marked—was exposed to his gaze.
Though it had faded thanks to his touch last night, a bite mark doesn’t vanish in a day.
Dietrich’s brows furrowed as he muttered darkly:
“You bother me. Everything about you.”
He lowered his head toward her collarbone.
Celia froze, startled by the sudden move.
Soft lips gently brushed over her skin.
The warmth and softness of it spread from that point, blooming across her body.
Reflexively, Celia wrapped her arms around his neck.
Until now, he had wiped crumbs from her face and held her hand—but never this kind of contact.
Loosening her grip, she whispered softly:
“Was that your way of getting back at me for kissing you earlier?”
“……”
Instead of answering, Dietrich lifted his head. His lips glistened beneath his sharp nose.
Celia clamped her mouth shut as their eyes met.
He looked at her with a completely unfamiliar expression.
His vivid red eyes gleamed like a predator.
Unlike the lustful gazes of men who had once desired her, his was the gaze of a starving beast sizing up its prey.
She knew that look.
The day her kingdom fell and she rode through the night to the Duchy of Inata…
The gaze of a giant eagle that had stared at her while feeding on a corpse—only bones left.
Confronted by a predator, Celia instinctively held her breath.
—“I warned you, didn’t I? That man might devour you until nothing’s left—not even a scrap of flesh.”
Ileon’s voice echoed in her mind.
Now, she understood what he meant.
The way Dietrich looked at her now… it was just like that eagle, circling overhead, waiting for her to collapse.
As she stared at him, dazed, Dietrich brushed back the hair clinging to her cheek and murmured:
“I won’t hurt you.”
His voice was so gentle, so kind, it was hard to believe he had looked at her that way just moments before.
His face had returned to its usual emotionless state.
“What did you just do?”
His eyes flicked to her collarbone.
She followed his gaze—and saw that the faint bite mark had completely disappeared.
As if it had never been there.
“…How did you do that?”
She asked, astonished.
Dietrich looked over her wide, startled green eyes and murmured languidly:
“Who knows.”
“……”
“Maybe… whether you bother me or not, I should’ve just left you alone from the start.”
With that quiet mutter, he placed the silver shoes from the box on the floor.
Flat and silver—just like her hair.
“The day I first saw you, coughing up blood and collapsing in my arms… maybe killing you then would’ve been the right choice.”
His face was so emotionless, Celia couldn’t tell if he meant it or not.
Still kneeling, Dietrich reached for her right ankle.
“……”
Celia said nothing. No answer came to mind.
As if he didn’t expect one, he removed her shoes and slipped the silver pair on her feet.
His hands were delicate, as if handling fine porcelain.
Despite the things he said, he treated her like something precious.
It made Celia’s heart uneasy.
“What exactly are you trying to say to me?”
“What I want to say…”
“Yeah. If you’ve got something to say, don’t be vague. Look me in the eye and tell me. Do you regret saving me?”
Dietrich slowly closed and opened his eyes.
His vivid red irises reflected only her.
“I don’t regret it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he muttered through clenched teeth:
“You’re not the problem.”
Frowning at his cryptic answer, Celia opened her mouth to press further, but Dietrich stood and said:
“I’ll step out now. Once the Crown Prince realizes you’re gone, he might search my estate again.”
“……”
“Think of this as your home and rest comfortably… Master.”
Throwing in the word he clearly didn’t mean, Dietrich left the room without another word.
