chapter 15
Shirtless and dripping wet, Kyte leaned against the doorframe, his gaze locked entirely on Evelier.
The moment she realized he was there, a cold shiver snaked down her spine. Evelier slowly moved her hand, slipping the sharp shard she held behind her back.
Watching her, Kyte slowly lowered his gaze. His striking beauty—so vastly at odds with his notoriously violent temperament—shone brightly even in a tense moment like this. Yet, no matter how beautiful he was, the man was still known to the world as a “Mad Dog.”
“You were washing up,” she managed.
“I was.”
How long had he been standing there watching her?
“But then a little rat snuck in and started rustling around,” Kyte continued, his voice smooth but dangerous. “It distracted me. Hard to keep washing with that kind of noise.”
“I’m sorry. I only stopped by to see if you needed anything.”
“I don’t think I’m the one who needs something here. You are.”
He saw everything from the very beginning.
Evelier had tried her best to move in absolute silence, but her opponent was far from ordinary. That was the problem.
“The room was messy, so I just wanted to clean up.”
“And while you were cleaning, you figured you’d look for the shard I hid?”
At this point, trying to deny it was entirely pointless. With a soft, defeated sigh, Evelier brought her hand back around to the front.
“I just found it while I was straightening the blankets.”
“Is that why you immediately reached under the pillow? You looked exactly like someone who already knew exactly where I hid it.”
“I just happened to check the pillow first.”
Evelier spoke quickly, subtly taking a step back. She was still a decent distance away from Kyte, but relying on that distance would be incredibly foolish. He was an expert in combat; she was just an ordinary noblewoman. If Kyte decided to lunge, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
She managed to take only a few more steps back before goosebumps erupted across her skin.
Sensing immediate danger, Evelier tried to twist away, but Kyte was faster. His hand shot out, catching the fabric of her robe.
“Ah!”
Fortunately, he missed her body, but her frantic pull tore the robe right open.
My face!
Panicking, she tried to cover her exposed features, but Kyte was already closing the distance.
Thud.
In an instant, they both tumbled to the floor. Evelier hit the ground first, with Kyte pinning her from above. Before she could even lift her hands to shield her face, he grabbed her wrists, locking them down.
“Now, let’s see the face of my kidnapper, shall we?”
Deep, trembling green eyes locked directly into Kyte’s. Terrified, Evelier’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps.
A heavy silence stretched between them. As Kyte stared down at her face, verifying her features, a strange, unreadable expression crossed his face.
“You…”
It was only then, a second too late, that Evelier realized something crucial. Kyte, who was currently pressing his weight down on top of her, wasn’t wearing a single thing on his upper body. His perfectly sculpted, muscular chest was right in front of her eyes.
“Y-You pervert!”
Evelier threw her head back and slammed her forehead violently against Kyte’s face.
“Argh!”
She only needed a split-second distraction to break free. Evelier scrambled out from under him, rolling across the floor, and darted out the door before he could recover.
“Hey! A pervert?!” Kyte’s deeply offended voice echoed out from the room behind her.
“You’re walking around without any clothes on! Of course you’re a pervert!”
“You’re the one who snuck in while I was trying to bathe!”
Evelier slammed the door shut behind her, cutting him off. Pressing her back against the wood, she slid slowly down to the floor.
Thump. Thump.
Her heart was hammering violently against her ribs, beating so hard it felt as though it might burst right out of her chest.
“Ugh…”
Evelier buried her face in both hands for a moment, then gave her own cheeks a sharp slap.
Get a grip.
It was the first time she had ever seen a naked man’s upper body. The absolute first time. What kind of gentleman would ever strip down in front of a noble lady? Her face flushed a deep, brilliant crimson, burning like a ripe apple.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Kyte’s bare chest wasn’t what she needed to worry about right now.
He had seen her face. She bitterly regretted not wearing a mask; she had grown too complacent simply relying on her hood. Her plan had been simple: confirm Kyte’s safety, leave the capital immediately, and go live in the North where her grandfather used to talk about. Because she was focused on leaving, she had let her guard down.
“What do I do now?”
Was there a way to make him forget? There were medicines capable of erasing memories, but most of them carried dangerous, toxic side effects. Evelier was trying to save Kyte, not kill him.
Still slouched against the wall, she slowly lifted her head.
“It’s over,” she murmured under her breath.
Her disguise as a mere maid was useless now. Not after he saw my face.
Perhaps the grand plan to keep Kyte safely locked away until the Emperor’s birthday had been reckless from the start. But she couldn’t just sit by and watch her grandfather’s savior walk into a trap. That was the sole reason she had thrown herself into this dangerous gamble.
If so, there was only one path left.
She had to persuade Grand Duke Kyte with the truth.
Evelier smoothed down the torn hem of her robe, forcing her racing thoughts into order. Kyte already knew she was connected to the Northern Army. Now that her identity was exposed, a direct approach might actually be her best option.
She bit her lip firmly, staring at the opposite wall.
Could she really convince him with words? He wasn’t a typical noble who played politics in a salon; he was a warrior who had survived the brutal realities of the battlefield. It wouldn’t be easy.
“No matter.”
Kidnapping him in the first place hadn’t been easy either. There was no use worrying about it now. Steeling her resolve, Evelier stood up.
It was time to face him head-on.
Left behind in the room, Kyte remained frozen for a moment, reeling from the sudden headbutt. He had lived a rough life, but until today, absolutely no one had dared to strike him in the face.
“Ha…”
A dry laugh escaped him. His nose, where her forehead had connected, throbbed with a sharp, stinging pain.
“That woman…”
She actually hit him and ran? And called him a pervert on top of that? Who did she think would even look twice at a scrawny woman like her! She wasn’t his type at all.
Kyte rubbed his aching bridge, grinding his teeth in frustration. But his anger didn’t last long. Contrary to his fierce reputation as a “Mad Dog,” he was a deeply rational man when it mattered.
‘Mary’—or whatever her real name was—had easily uncovered the broken piece of the plate he had hidden. She had moved directly toward it, as if someone had handed her a map.
The age of magic had supposedly ended, but its miracles hadn’t vanished entirely from the world. His own subordinate, Selen, possessed an incredibly sharp, heightened sensory perception passed down through his bloodline.
Kyte closed his eyes, mentally sifting through the rare abilities he knew of.
“Clairvoyance,” he muttered. “Or perhaps x-ray vision.”
If it wasn’t an ability like that, there was no logical way she could have known exactly what he did.
“But her face… it looked familiar.”
Kyte dragged his memory for a match. It wasn’t a face he had seen in the capital. That meant it had to be from the North. Brown hair, paired with striking, unusual green eyes that reminded him of a deep forest.
Finally, a specific individual he had buried deep in his memories surfaced.
Baron Frilly. For a man who had spent his life drifting through active war zones, he had possessed a remarkably gentle, elegant appearance. Even in his middle years, the baron had retained such a youthful face that people often misjudged his age.
He had also been an incredibly meddlesome man. Baron Frilly had constantly gone out of his way to look after the young boy who had just arrived in the grim Northern army. Back then, Kyte had been too cynical to accept kindness at face value, harboring deep suspicions about the older man’s motives.
“Why do you keep going out of your way for me?” Kyte had demanded back then.
How had Baron Frilly replied?
“You see, I have a young granddaughter. When she was born, my heart raced so fast it felt like receiving the greatest gift in the world. New life truly is the most precious thing.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Ah, just hear me out. My granddaughter’s name is Evelier…”
From that point on, Baron Frilly had spent a long time bragging endlessly about his granddaughter. Kyte had watched him with a sense of quiet fascination, amazed at how the old man could extract so much profound meaning from a toddler’s simplest actions.
Only after his endless boasting was finished did Baron Frilly finally give him a real answer.
“Therefore, every child is precious. And you are no different, Lord Kyte.”
When he first heard those words, Kyte had merely scowled. If every child in the world was truly precious, he wouldn’t have been forced to become the monster he was today.
