His stiffly frozen body mechanically turned back. Celian’s gaze was calm.

Izer asked coldly.

“Are you proposing to make me your lover?”

Izer had received similar proposals several times before. Mostly from noble young ladies who had come to see Celian and encountered Izer instead.

Their fathers seemed to turn a blind eye to their daughters’ lovers as a matter of course. After all, they didn’t particularly harm their daughters’ futures.

But none of the nobles had ever considered the position of the young man who became a lover. The man’s voice grew even colder.

“Do you know what the end of a lover is?”

“……”

“When they get old and lose their value, they’re replaced. Because rumors of being a lover are so widespread, they can’t even start a new family. There are countless who live on the few coins they received in their days of flattery and die miserably.”

“……”

“And that’s the better case. Sometimes they’re found as corpses in back alleys, victims of their husbands’ jealousy. Of course, the kind gentlemen would never show their blood-stained hands to their beloved wives–.”

Celian, who had been enduring his ice-cold gaze, interrupted his words.

“A lover, you think I desire you as merely a lover?”

“Young Miss,”

The woman’s voice carried tears.

“You, I……”

“……”

“How much……”

Celian raised her head. The air in the room grew chilly with her sharpened tone.

“Then let me ask you this. If I become a commoner, will you give me a place by your side?”

Celian clearly understood the harsh atmosphere in Treven. There’s a limit to how much Count Winston can try to save her father. Stripping of titles is unavoidable. At best, they might forgive the debts owed to their family.

She didn’t want to be sold to William just for that. Emotions welled up as the impending future unfolded before her.

Celian was innocent. She hadn’t asked to be born as Marcotti Berienne’s daughter, nor had she urged her father to war.

Yet she was about to lose everything. If so, wouldn’t even God take pity on her and allow her to have just one thing?

But Izer coldly rebuked,

“Don’t say such terrifying things.”

Izer’s opinion differed from Celian’s. Marriage to William Winston was the last lifeline not only for Marquis Berienne but also for Celian. Only an alliance with the Winston family could preserve what she had enjoyed until now.

“You have your own world, Young Miss. It’s different from where I live.”

To him, Celian was a queen. It was enough to admire her from afar and worship her. Regardless of how his heart felt, how his body reacted — Izer Ren was in a position where that was how it had to be.

The woman got up from the bed. Her body, drunk with alcohol, staggered. Izer reflexively moved his arm to support her.

Celian raised her hand and stroked the man’s chin. Izer swallowed a groan at the seductive gesture.

The woman looked up at him and commanded.

“Izer Ren, hold me.”

“……”

“Be my lover. Everyone else has one, why can’t I?”

Celian began to unbutton his shirt. Her movements were clumsy, having never undressed someone before.

Izer clenched his fist and stared only at the wine glass.

Pop, one by one the buttons came undone. The soft hand without a single callus touched his chest. The muscles of the young man who once dreamed of becoming a knight were firm. Unlike Celian’s soft br*asts.

That which was now pressing near the man’s heart. Izer slowly opened his mouth.

“I will not give you more than my body, Young Miss.”

Izer Ren could not disobey Celian Berienne’s words. Their hierarchical relationship was clear.

“If that’s alright with you, I’ll gladly be your servant.”

He had to remain only as a means of comfort. He had to be ruthlessly discarded when the time came. It was right to end as a chance encounter between people living in different worlds, when time and place aligned.

Meeting his wavering red eyes, Celian pulled his head down.

“Alright.”

* * *

It was a winter night full of stars.

Outside was cold, inside was hot. Outside was quiet, inside was louder. Outside was peaceful, inside was boiling.

By someone who should have been outside coming in, the inside forgot its loneliness.

The first kiss was clumsy and careful. The man’s tongue naturally swam inside the opened lips. This first kiss was neither passionate nor affectionate, but Celian did her best to respond to him.

Pulling on the man’s neck was part of that effort. Izer momentarily lost his balance and leaned forward, pushing Celian’s body backward. Izer quickly embraced Celian to support her. The entangled silver thread left a faint trace as it fell.

The man’s lips quivered. Celian was smiling, her whole body leaning on his arms. The moment he relaxed his arms, she would completely collapse her half-tilted back onto the bed.

“……”

Thud, the woman’s back, supported by his arm, touched the bed.

The bed in the Marquis’s villa was top-class. On a bed opposite to Izer’s creaky one, long silver hair was scattered.

The negligee, which had been pulled up almost to her neck, slipped off her small head.

Celian casually took off the rest of her negligee. The belated intoxication beginning to rise reduced her embarrassment. She even managed to smile leisurely at the man with the stiff face.

Unlike her bright, excited face, the man sitting astride the woman’s pelvis looked down at Celian with clenched teeth.

He had similar dreams many times before. The form of Celian that Izer, who had never seen a n*ked woman, created purely from imagination was abstract.

The problem was that postures and images he inevitably learned from his friends’ vulgar words and actions were superimposed on her form.

In his dreams, Celian Berienne was n*ked, sucking on his fingers and writhing beneath him. Sometimes, or rather quite often — she cried and refused.

Not that the Izer in the dream ever stopped because of that. He forcibly r*ped that woman. His dream self gleefully performed the act that the real Izer Ren would shudder to do.

When he woke up from such dreams, he would curse inwardly and pull at his hair. To have such lewd thoughts about the Young Miss he worshipped. And yet, unable to fully resolve his desire, he would pathetically twist his body while gripping and rubbing his firmly er*ect c*ck.

In the afternoon, he would bow politely with a solemn face before the woman he had forcibly violated countless times in his dreams. Naturally hiding his front with the bag he carried at his side.

That Celian Berienne was now undressed and lying before him. She was real and present. Unlike the dreams where he couldn’t feel sensations, a warm, living body waited for him.

The man’s lips trembled.

The silver hair that always pointed downward was now spread widely on the bed. Even the bangs that slightly covered her forehead were pushed back, revealing her smooth facial lines. Her lips, particularly red even on her makeup-free face, drew attention.

Around Celian’s neck hung a small silver cross necklace. It was something Izer had quietly given her as a birthday gift a few years ago. Of course, it wasn’t expensive.

He slowly lowered his eyes. Attached to her slender shoulders and chest were masses of flesh so large it was doubtful how they were supported.

Izer let out a low groan. It was the first sound he had made since mounting Celian.

He could understand why his so-called friends were so crazy about women’s br*asts. This was instinct. Something that anyone, no, any man would inevitably crave.

Perhaps sensing where his gaze had landed, Celian pulled Izer’s hand to her br*ast.

“Here. You can touch.”

“……Must you do this?”

He asked one last time before his patience ran out. Celian’s answer was concise.

“Yes. I want it.”

Something exploded in Izer’s mind. It was the sound of instinct setting off fireworks.

Detestably, his reason pretended to despair and dropped its head. The man showed the ice-cold expression he wanted to show her as he grasped Celian’s br*ast.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Uh.”

Even that moan was stimulating. Then, his quivering lips latched onto the mound of flesh.

Izer’s friends would always talk about their experiences with women when they drank. Their vulgar words were too stimulating to ignore, and they bored into Izer’s ears regardless of his will.