T/N: I changed tutor to governess.

03. The Hunter and the Prey

One of the things Celian learned during her two-week stay at the Chesterfield ducal mansion was that this house was very quiet.

The Duchess rarely came out of her room. The area around the Duchess’s room was especially quiet, even within the mansion. The maids working nearby held even their breath.

The cause was the young duke of Chesterfield, who was particularly sensitive to the Duchess’s stability. Izer, who was already delicate, seemed to have become even more sensitive since he started living in the ducal mansion.

He had so few conversations with the servants that, unless he was directly speaking to Celian, she hardly ever heard his voice.

The Duke of Chesterfield, who returned yesterday, was also a man of few words. On the evening of his arrival, when the Duke sought out his younger son’s new governess, he looked exactly as Celian remembered.

Slightly tanned white skin as if to flaunt his health, vivid blonde hair, and blue eyes that seemed to pierce through people. Though the wrinkles on his forehead seemed to have increased a bit, he definitely didn’t look his age of fifty.

The Duke stared at her for a long time before issuing an order to leave. Along with a request to keep an eye on his son so he wouldn’t disturb Renéee.

Celian spent most of her time with Percy in the garden. Although she was hired as a governess, in reality, a five-year-old was not old enough to study. As such, her role was essentially that of a nanny, replacing the recently departed nursemaid.

Celian’s main daily routine consisted of drawing pictures with the child in the garden or reading him books. When Percy took his nap, she even had time for embroidery. It had been a long time since she had picked up a needle as a hobby, rather than for paid sewing work.

Today, Percy was busy observing ants. Celian put down the embroidery hoop she was holding.

Tonight was a rare night for going out. Renéee had given Celian permission to go see her sister. Owen was supposed to pick her up around sunset.

‘How long has it been since I went out.’

There were two hours left until the outing. As she was picking up her embroidery needle with an expectant face, the head butler called for her. The man, dressed neatly, had graying hair.

“Miss Berienne, the Duke asks you to join him for dinner tonight.”

“With me?”

She was so surprised she almost dropped her embroidery hoop. The head butler continued with an unreadable expression. He was in a position to relay information and wasn’t supposed to convey any emotion.

“Yes. The time is eight o’clock. The clothes for you to wear at the banquet will be brought to your room.”

“I’m sorry, but the Madam gave me permission to go out this evening. Might the Duke have misunderstood something?”

She tried hard to maintain her composure. A governess does not dine with the nobles of the house where they work. She had never eaten anything other than snacks with Percy.

The head butler impassively relayed the situation. Harris’s words took priority over Renéee’s.

“The Duke told me to convey this message while the Madam was also present. Immediately after, the Madam asked me to tell you that it would be fine to postpone your outing until tomorrow.”

It wasn’t that it would be fine to postpone, it was an order to postpone. Celian pressed her lips tightly together.

Percy, who had been listening to their conversation, came running over and plopped down in front of Celian.

“Is Teacher eating with us today too? I’m so happy!”

“I see. I’m looking forward to it too.”

Celian answered lifelessly. It seemed she would need to ask Owen for some digestive medicine.

* * *

Proud nobles consider changing their attire according to time, place, and situation as important as life itself. The situations they speak of applied without fail even inside the mansion, when with family.

If one sat at the dinner table in the same dress worn for indoor activities all day, they would be criticized for lacking refinement. Since refinement and wealth were generally proportional, just trying to have dinner in the same clothes could lead to questions about whether it was due to lack of money.

Still, she thought that as a governess, there was no need to dress up, but…

‘When was the last time I wore clothes like this.’

Following his sudden invitation to dinner, the Duke showed his sincerity by even sending clothes for her to wear.

It was such an elaborate dress that she wondered if it was appropriate to wear over an old chemise. Moreover, judging by the packaging, it was new and from a famous designer she knew well.

The color was a light beige. Reflecting the latest fashion, it was designed with short sleeves that revealed the arms, with small pearls embedded at the ends.

The Duke hadn’t sent just the dress. The box brought by the head butler also contained a necklace, earrings, and even a hair pin.

Although she was well aware that nobles put great effort into their dinner attire, it seemed excessive to Celian, who had lived as she pleased.

Thinking about it now, being able to go against etiquette had been a form of power in itself.

A power that the current Celian did not have.

The drab dress fell to the floor. Celian hesitated for a moment before reaching behind her back to pull at the strings of her corset. When wearing a dress that covered up to the neck, any corset would do, but the beige dress was deeply cut both at the back and chest. It seemed she would need to change into a different corset.

Her body was reflected in the window facing the back garden. Celian had forgotten that she had left the curtains open, excited by the pretty clothes she hadn’t seen in a long time. The fact that her room on the second floor faced the rarely frequented back garden also contributed to her carelessness.

Celian froze as she walked towards the window to close the curtains. Someone in the darkness was looking straight up at her room.

Celian stumbled backwards.

Izer, who had been looking up at her, chuckled. If she wanted to hide her body, she should have moved to the side; what good did it do to back away while still facing the window?

He continued to stare at Celian without averting his gaze. Her flustered appearance was quite a sight to see.

Since Izer became the young duke, all sorts of women had thrown themselves at him, half-n*ked.

On days when there was a party at the mansion, there was always at least one or two women who would pretend to be drunk, collapse into his arms, and claim they needed a place to rest. It seemed that to them, the Chesterfield name he would share was more valuable than his lowly origins, as they kept coming at him tirelessly no matter how much he pushed them away.

Izer’s new friends disliked him for acting noble despite his commoner origins. Although they hesitated in front of the Chesterfield name, when heavily drunk, there were more than a few who would blurt out their true feelings, asking what kind of Chesterfield he thought he was.

Through a series of incidents, Izer realized, to enter their world, he had to follow their laws. That was the difference between a born noble and a made noble.

Those born as Chesterfields didn’t need to, but for a man born as Ren to become a Chesterfield, he needed to bow his head at times. After realizing this obvious fact, he completely became Izer ‘Chesterfield’.

And…

The women he spent nights with all had one thing in common: light-colored hair.

When rumors spread that the young duke of Chesterfield preferred women with light hair, this time they came running with dyed hair. Appreciating the effort they put into using harsh hair dye generously, he would spend one night with them.

Just one night. Any more was unnecessary. The expression of the man who made them lie n*ked face down and thrust his c*ck into them was too cold to be considered enjoying s*x.

After ej*culating with a gasp onto their hollowed back or above their navel, the women all had disappointed looks on their faces. They clearly expected him to finish inside them as if he were some young kid who had just lost his virginity.

There were countless women who clung pathetically, trying to spread their legs once more, unable to let go of the back muscles hidden under the black robe as soon as he finished, perhaps unaware of the rumor that they would be thrown out of the bedroom if they did so.

If they could see the young duke of Chesterfield looking up at this corner room on the second floor, those women would say this was not the same man who had s*x with them. The lust, carnal desire, and far-off imagination swirling in Izer Chesterfield’s eyes were realms never granted to them.

Even after the curtain was drawn, his gaze didn’t leave the window. He imagined jumping through that window into Celian’s room. His hand twitched.

The advantage of a woman who is already n*ked is that there’s no need to bother undressing her. If he were to jump into her room now and lock the door, the game would be over.