Chapter 48
“If you don’t want to dine alone with me, it’s fine if Beatrice joins us.”
Only when his daughter’s name slipped from Angela’s lips did Dominic turn his gaze toward her. His eyes held a wary curiosity, as if questioning what she was up to now. Angela didn’t shy away from his stare. She had clearly come to invite him to a meal, yet the intensity in their exchanged glances made it feel like a dogfight arena.
In that stifling air, where it seemed impossible to even breathe, Beatrice, who had been sitting silently, spoke up.
“Um, you should eat with her, Father. I’ll dine with Mother.”
Angela’s eyes fell to the food spread out on the table where Beatrice had just been seated. Thanks to Beatrice’s concession, Angela had secured this lavish meal with some difficulty. It felt like she’d become a beggar who’d succeeded in pleading for scraps.
But what did it matter? A beggar’s only concern was filling their stomach, by any means necessary. Angela didn’t care about the method.
Before starting the meal, Angela pulled a small green glass bottle from her pocket. She opened the cap and let a single drop fall into the soup. Dominic let out a soft chuckle, as if amused by the spectacle, and began eating. Angela followed suit, starting her meal as well.
There was no conversation. The only sound between them was the clinking of cutlery. It was a rigid meal, though to an outsider, it might have looked like the calm dining of an aristocratic father and daughter. Angela didn’t know about the rest, but she made sure to finish every drop of the soup. It was decent enough. No other flavors stood out.
“Please dine with me like this until my birthday.”
As the meal ended and Dominic rose without hesitation, Angela looked up at him and spoke. His face twisted with irritation.
“Can’t you show even that much mercy to someone whose life has been stolen?”
Pleading for pity didn’t work with him.
“But you’ll be delighted to watch me waste away before your eyes every day.”
Instead, when she asked him to be an audience to her demise, a smile crept onto his face. It was the satisfied expression of someone ready to applaud at the end of a play.
Even the books she used to carry everywhere no longer held her interest. Angela sat dazed on the edge of her bed, striking her chest. The action had become a habit, it seemed.
She didn’t know when she’d started hitting herself like this. Startled by her own clenched fist, Angela lowered her hand. She didn’t dare check her bruised chest. It was probably blackened enough to stain her dress.
Angela flopped back onto the bed. It didn’t feel like her room anymore, and it offered no comfort. This place could no longer be her refuge. Slowly, she sat up again.
Knock, knock.
A timely knock came at the door. With Angela’s permission to enter, it was Rita who stepped inside. Angela, seeing a face that had become increasingly familiar, asked, “What is it?”
“Her Majesty the Empress has sent a physician for you, Miss Angela. She wrote that since you haven’t been able to visit the Empress’s Palace due to your condition, she hopes you’ll recover soon. Shall I let them in?”
Annette? Was Mary throwing another tantrum, demanding to see Angela? Puzzled, Angela nodded.
“Let them in.”
But why did the physician sent by Her Majesty look so familiar? Angela stared at the pink-haired figure who entered with arms crossed, then spoke.
“Who exactly are you?”
“Today, I’m the physician sent by Her Majesty to check on Miss Wilton’s health.”
Tristan answered with a bright smile. Angela thought he’d dodged the important question again, but then—
“Also, Cupid of Kalian’s love?”
He brought up something even more significant. Angela knew Kalian wasn’t someone meant for her, yet she couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t stop laughing until Tristan asked how she could smile so beautifully.
Angela called for Rita. Today was the day Kalian would be released from prison. She intended to dress up.
Rita, seemingly stunned that Angela had called her to help with her appearance, stood frozen until Angela’s sharp “What are you doing?” snapped her into action.
Unlike with Mary, Angela didn’t give Rita free rein over her wardrobe, but as a maid who’d worked at the estate for years, Rita adeptly fetched exactly what Angela needed when asked. Angela let Rita’s skilled hands dress her in a gown and adorn her with all sorts of dazzling accessories. Not a single detail was overlooked. Today, she wanted to be the most beautiful.
The bright yellow dress clashed entirely with the season. But it would make her stand out. Kalian would spot her the moment he stepped out of the palace and come running, wouldn’t he? With such innocent thoughts, Angela climbed into the carriage.
As the carriage set off, Angela emptied her mind completely. She pushed away any thoughts of the Wilton estate. And into that cleared space, she filled her mind with nothing but Kalian.
She would hold him as much as she could. Touch him as much as she could. Kiss him as much as she could.
She had to take as much as she could greedily. That way, she could endure the times when she couldn’t see Kalian.
Angela kept her eyes gently closed until the carriage stopped. She didn’t want anything to interrupt the moment she thought of Kalian. When the wheels finally came to a halt, her eyes opened to the world again.
“Why are you so thin?”
As Kalian stepped out of the palace gates, he immediately spotted Angela in her bright yellow dress. As he approached her without hesitation, those were his first words.
“You’re one to talk, looking so gaunt yourself.”
Angela clicked her tongue and caressed Kalian’s cheek. There shouldn’t have been any torture, so had they not fed him? The spot her hand touched felt sunken, devoid of flesh. Her brow furrowed with concern, and Kalian gently took her hand, lowering it.
“It’s just because I stayed up all night. I look worse than I am. What could’ve happened to me?”
“Well, I suppose the bed wasn’t comfortable. Let’s go to the estate and rest.”
Angela tugged at Kalian’s hand. It wasn’t a strong pull, but Kalian let himself be led obediently. She was grateful for that.
Without much effort, Angela got Kalian into the carriage and instructed the driver to head to the Florence estate.
As the carriage started moving, Kalian pulled Angela into his arms. The strength in his embrace suggested he’d been desperate to do this.
The Florence estate was in a frenzy, preparing to welcome its master who’d returned after unexpected hardship. The butler, Emmett, was so overjoyed at Kalian’s safe return that he shed tears, which seemed out of character.
Vigo was no different. In fact, Vigo was openly sobbing, tears streaming down his face. He wailed that this had happened because he hadn’t dealt with the Red Wolf properly, his cries like a torrential downpour.
Tristan, who had been in and out of the prison delivering Angela’s messages, was the only one who greeted Kalian normally. “You’re back?” he said with a grin.
“Kalian seems a bit tired.”
Though Angela was glad the estate’s staff had come out to welcome Kalian, she cautiously expressed her wish to take him to his bedroom.
At that, the staff began to disperse, muttering about getting a grip. Only Emmett, still sniffling, stepped a little closer.
“I’ve kept the bedroom spotless for you to use whenever you return. Shall we go?”
With a slight nod in response to Emmett’s words, Angela led Kalian toward his bedroom. But partway there, Kalian said he wanted to wash up briefly and veered toward the bathroom, leaving Angela alone in his room.
Though she had been here before, the bedding had changed, and it gave the room a slightly different feel. Angela wandered around the empty space before flopping onto Kalian’s bed.
It was soft. Just like the atmosphere of the Florence estate.
Surely, they used equally expensive linens, yet no matter what was done, the Wilton estate could never shake its bleak chill. This place, though, was always so warm.
Angela was sprawled out, flailing her arms and legs as if making a snow angel, savoring the plush feel of the blankets, when Kalian, who had quietly returned, let out a soft laugh at the sight of her.
“You should’ve made some noise to let me know you were back.”
Embarrassed, Angela shot up from the bed, but Kalian waved it off, telling her it was fine.
Still, Angela wasn’t okay with it. Being caught doing something so childish was mortifying. It felt like her stunted, ungrown self had been exposed. Kalian, finding it simply adorable, gently guided her back to sit on his bed.
“You can keep going, it’s fine.”
“I was just messing around because it’s soft. I’m done.”
Her curt reply made Kalian smile as he slipped into the bed. Angela had lifted the covers and patted the mattress, urging him to lie down.
Once Kalian was settled neatly in bed, Angela tucked the blankets around him carefully.
“Are you playing my nursemaid now?”
Contrary to Kalian’s expectation that she’d bristle, Angela nodded obediently. Then she asked,
“Shall I sing you a lullaby too?”
Kalian chuckled, shaking his head, and lifted the covers Angela had tucked around him.
“No need for a lullaby. Just come here.”
His voice wasn’t suggestive. It wasn’t some beastly imitation of human affection either. It was plainly obvious he just wanted to hold her close.
Yet why did her heart race so fiercely? Perhaps because Angela was harboring other thoughts.
With a haughty tilt of her chin, Angela slipped into Kalian’s bed. He pulled her tightly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. It seemed like he was breathing in her scent. Angela’s cheeks flushed bright red.
“I missed you.”
Kalian’s words carried a heavy weight. The weight of sincerity. To think that just a few days apart could stir such tenderness.
“I missed you too.”
Angela answered his sincerity with her own. They exchanged the feelings they’d been holding onto, and then, suddenly, Angela pressed her lips to Kalian’s. Feeling the soft warmth, Kalian tightened his arms around her.
Their intertwined lips seemed to draw each other in endlessly, as if they wanted to consume one another. Hot breaths slipped between them. Angela drank them in, and in a fleeting moment, she climbed atop Kalian.
Pulling their clinging skin apart, Angela sat over him, gazing down. She saw the red heat pooling at the corners of Kalian’s eyes.
With her thumb, Angela gently stroked his eye, then leaned down to kiss his eyelid. Then his cheek, and his lips again.
Kalian caressed her neck and cheek, welcoming the small, scattered kisses with quiet joy.
“What if you’d died in that prison?”
Angela’s abrupt question made Kalian look up at her with a heated gaze.
“Then I’d have been forced to mourn you forever.”
As she spoke, Angela began to undo Kalian’s clothes. Startled, he tried to sit up, but Angela pressed him back down, telling him to stay still, and started to slip off her own dress.
“Angela.”
Kalian grabbed her busy hands. She looked at him with a wronged expression.
“If you suddenly left me one day, I’d live alone for the rest of my life. So isn’t it fair to give me at least one good thing to hold onto?”
“I’m not going to leave you alone.”
Kalian stroked Angela’s cheek. She pouted in protest.
“Still, do it. Reassure me. I want to feel certain that you’re here.”
Angela pressed her cheek into Kalian’s warm hand. He continued to stroke her cheek with the gentlest touch he could muster.
“Don’t say no. You said we’d get married, didn’t you? Then I’m yours forever, and you’re mine, so what does it matter?”
With those words, the world seemed to flip upside down. When Angela came to her senses, Kalian was above her, kissing her with reckless abandon. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him close.
Her heart, which had felt lifeless, began to pound wildly. Each time their skin brushed, the world flashed like lightning. Moments later, not a single scrap of fabric remained between them as they held each other close.
