‘This is…’

The sharp bridge of his nose and the shadows cast by his long, thick eyelashes fell across his pale face. His features resembled those of a boy who had just come of age rather than a grown man. His smooth, white skin contrasted with the jet-black hair that fell over his straight forehead.

His face was delicately sculpted, as though a master sculptor had painstakingly carved it. The problem lay below that face. Despite his almost boyish appearance, the body beneath his neck was that of a robust adult man.

‘Where am I supposed to look?’

The fact that he was practically n*ked left Emma flustered. He seemed to be wearing nothing but a robe, and every breath he took made his chest muscles ripple visibly.

She wanted to turn around and run away immediately. But she couldn’t move a single step, as though she had been caught in a freeze spell.

“I asked you… who you are.”

His low, deep voice resonated slowly. Unlike when they had first met, his speech was slurred, and his half-lidded eyes seemed oddly unfocused.

“Um, Your Grace? Don’t you remember me? I’m Emma Brown. The new…”

“A courtesan?”

“…What?”

What on earth was he talking about?

Emma’s eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly. At her reaction, Caden frowned and muttered something under his breath.

“…Damn it. Was it Marcus who sent you? As if assassins weren’t enough, now he’s sending women to warm my bed? I’m so touched I could cry. What a great friendship.”

“Your Grace? I’m…”

“Be quiet.”

“…!”

Emma gasped as an arm suddenly wrapped around her waist. At the same time, her body was lifted off the ground, and she was carried away in an instant.

“Your Grace!”

“Stop chirping. It’s giving me a headache.”

“…!”

Caden, who had grabbed Emma by the waist, tucked her under his arm and shut the door. With a heavy ‘thud’, the door to the bedroom closed.

All that was left in the hallway was darkness, silence, and a bloodied person—or perhaps a corpse.

—

‘Where am I, and who am I?’

As she was carried under Caden’s arm, Emma’s mind went blank. She had no idea how to navigate this situation.

‘So, there was a body—no, a person—outside the door. Fine. But why doesn’t the Duke recognize me? It’s not ‘that’ dark… Oh!’

Emma suddenly realized something was off. Her face felt strangely bare, as if something was missing.

‘My glasses!’

Emma screamed internally. In her rush to leave her room, she had forgotten to put on her glasses. At that moment, she remembered Madame Georges’ warning.

—Emma, never take off your glasses in front of others.

—Why?

—Look at your mother. Beauty is a curse for a poor, naive woman. I want my student to grow into a strong tree, not a delicate flower. A tree that stands tall, with deep roots, unshaken by fierce storms.

Before Emma entered the academy, Madame Georges had given her glasses as a gift. It must have been a significant expense for the elderly woman, who lived alone in a shabby rental house in the slums. She had likely spent several months’ pension on them.

When Emma tried to refuse, Madame Georges, as always, delivered a sharp retort.

—It’s not a gift. When do you plan to repay me for all the lessons I’ve given you? And what about your family’s debts? Even if I told you to run away and never come back, you wouldn’t listen. You’d crawl back, dragging the burden of your family on your back. That’s just who you are.

—So what if I’m dragging the burden of my family on my back? It’s better than being alone.

—Hah… Then what’s the big deal about adding the cost of a pair of glasses? These glasses will be your armor during your academy life.

Madame Georges had been right.

Since she started wearing the glasses, Emma’s life has become a little easier. She was freed from the stares and advances of men that followed her everywhere.

The glasses were her armor, protecting her from the world and giving her confidence.

‘Thud!’

Emma was tossed onto a bed so large it could rival the living room of her home. Instinctively, she covered her face with her hands. It was just a pair of glasses, but without them, she felt as exposed as if she were completely n*ked.

Caden, who had been silently watching her, suddenly spoke.

“You’re ugly.”

“…!”

It was the first time in her life she had been insulted like that.

She had heard people call her old-fashioned when she wore her glasses, but no one had ever outright called her ugly.

The glasses were meant to make her look plain, not unattractive.

Emma was a very objective person. She knew better than anyone that she had inherited her mother’s beautiful features. Slowly, she lowered the hands covering her face.

‘What about now? Do you still think I’m ugly?’

It might have been a reckless move, but her pride had been wounded, and she wanted to regain at least a shred of it.

Above her, she heard a soft chuckle.

“You’re trembling like a scared little country girl. How do you plan to warm my bed like this tonight?”

“…!”

Emma’s eyes widened involuntarily.

Caden was shrugging off the robe he had been wearing. The robe, barely clinging to his shoulders, slipped off in an instant.

He tossed the robe onto the floor outside the bed and caged Emma between his arms. Trapped, Emma couldn’t move a muscle.

All she could do was breathe shallowly, like a small animal caught under a predator’s paw.

“…!”

His dark, sunken gaze bore heavily down on her. Emma inhaled sharply. She needed to run, but her body refused to cooperate. She felt powerless, utterly powerless.

The warm breath brushing against her face, the faint scent of a forest mingled with his natural scent, and his solid, smooth body—clad in nothing but briefs—completely dominated the atmosphere of the room.

For the first time, Emma fully understood the meaning of the word “overwhelmed.”

And then—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Something cold touched her stiff cheek. It was Caden’s fingers. His long, elegant fingers playfully tapped her cheek.

“…Ha.”

Only then did Emma finally release the breath she had been holding.

‘I almost suffocated.’

Fortunately, Caden’s fingers withdrew without causing any more mischief. Relieved, Emma immediately turned her head away. She wanted to escape his gaze, which rendered her incapable of thinking.

‘Calm down, Emma Brown. You can do this. I’m not the Duke’s courtesan; I’m his new secretary! I only came out because of the noise. Yes, I heard the rules from the butler, but I found blood and had no choice but to check on the Duke’s safety. That’s all. I just need to explain calmly. Surely, he’s not doing this on purpose knowing everything…!’

Unintentionally, her eyes met his.

“Be quiet.”

Caden frowned and muttered, his tone laced with faint irritation. It was the kind of scolding one might give a child who refused to sleep late at night.

“…”

Emma felt wronged.

‘But I didn’t do anything! I haven’t even said a word!’

She protested silently. Of course, the only sound that actually escaped her lips was a small exhale.

“Your eyes. They won’t stop chattering, and it’s giving me a headache.”

“That…”

‘What kind of nonsense is that?’ she wanted to retort, but she couldn’t. Instead, Emma obediently lowered her gaze.

Now that her eyes had been accused of being noisy, even blinking felt like a conscious effort.

But she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever. She had to clear up the misunderstanding somehow.

“So, I’m not a courtesan…”

“I told you to stop babbling.”

The moment she opened her mouth, another heavy reprimand came her way.

“…”

‘Then what am I supposed to do?!’

She had only spoken because he told her not to “talk with her eyes,” but now he wanted her to stay silent too. If she could glare at him with her eyes, she would have done so gladly.

But in front of Caden, Emma was no more than a mouse cornered by a cat—or rather, a predator.

All she could do was watch his every move and try not to provoke him. She bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood.

‘I shouldn’t have left my room!’

She had acted recklessly and ended up stepping into a trap.

“How much did Marcus pay you?”

It was the second time she had heard that name.

‘Marcus? Who’s that supposed to be?’

From what she could gather, this Marcus seemed to have sent assassins to the Duke’s bedroom. Did he disguise the assassins as courtesans? How often had this happened for Caden to immediately assume she was one?

Everything was a mystery.

“Whether it’s rats or courtesans, I’ve killed plenty with my own hands. Tch, he just doesn’t know when to quit. This time, he sent something unusual. Not like him at all.”

His slow, deliberate gaze swept over Emma’s face. Wherever his eyes lingered, she felt an itch or a faint sting. She wanted to scratch her skin, but she held back.

‘Don’t provoke him.’

She feared what the Duke might do if she angered him. She had seen a glimpse of madness in his dark, sunken eyes.

“Who sent me? Marcus?”

“…Ha.”

Caden let out a laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Disrespectful.”

“…!”

“You don’t even have basic manners for your employer? Calling Marcus by name—how rude. You’re just a child. You’re not a minor, are you?”

“No, I’m…”

Emma was frustrated.

Caden looked down at her with disdain. She couldn’t make sense of the conversation at all.

‘What did I even do?!’

From what he was saying, Marcus seemed to be his enemy. But now he was scolding her for addressing Marcus by name?

She had no idea how to respond.