“What’s happening?”

When Vivianne kept whining, Kian’s brow furrowed with irritation. At the same time, though it might have been her imagination, his grip on her hand loosened slightly.

“……”

She felt wronged. If she had known, she would have kept quiet. She had asked precisely because she didn’t understand the situation.

If she didn’t know, he could have simply explained. Instead, Kian snapped at her sharply.

Her shoulders hunched at his seemingly scolding tone.

“If you sit here with your chest exposed after I’ve been openly kissing you, what kind of dirty thoughts do you think everyone will have? They’ll see you exactly how that woman described—my plaything.”

Even as he spoke, he seemed filled with self-loathing, repeatedly taking deep breaths.

“Just stay still. If you want to be seen as my real woman, not a toy.”

Perhaps because of their public kiss, the stares from around them felt piercing.

Everyone was looking their way, and Kian seemed conscious of it.

…She had been oblivious.

Being in front of so many people was something she had hardly experienced since the servant assembly.

Feeling somewhat dejected, Vivianne remained quiet as he instructed.

“If you just watch the performance quietly, I’ll let go of your hand.”

“…Alright.”

She reluctantly pretended to watch the performance. People in makeup were acting and singing, but perhaps because of her discomfort, she couldn’t concentrate at all.

She turned to look at Kian. Something still felt strange.

His eyelashes trembled intermittently. He kept moistening his lower lip, seemingly dry. He definitely looked different from his usual self.

“You’re not focusing.”

“…I will. Focus.”

Yet the dark eyes that met hers looked somewhat languid and unfocused.

It seemed Kian was the one who couldn’t concentrate.

Her lower lip jutted out naturally, but sensing that pointing this out would only invite trouble, she pretended not to notice.

Despite her palm feeling hot, Kian didn’t release her hand throughout the entire performance.

She wished he would look at her.

But Kian never once looked her way after that.

Was this enough—him comforting her tears and publicly displaying their relationship?

She wasn’t sure. Somehow, she didn’t feel satisfied. Once again, she hadn’t made any choices for herself. There were only options Kian had given her.

He offered choices but never sought consent, simply taking what he wanted. He behaved exactly like someone who knew in advance that she couldn’t refuse his proposals.

Then, intoxicated by his sweetness or driven by anxiety, she had no choice but to swallow it. Her mind was complicated, but she had no better solution.

Vivianne lived in Kian’s house, ate the meals he provided, wore the clothes he gave her, and spent time with his people. Like a fish swallowed by a massive wave, all she could do was surrender to the current.

So what?

This was what she wanted.

It was she who had asked to stay here, she who had offered herself to Kian and kissed him.

She couldn’t survive without carrying his seed. Could she escape just because things were slightly different from what she expected?

…No, she couldn’t.

So she wanted to stop thinking about it.

Vivianne decided to focus on the performance.

* * *

When Penelope received Kian’s reply that he would come to the opera house, she finally felt that the situation was proceeding in proper order.

Though it wasn’t entirely pleasant to accommodate a mistress before marriage, it wasn’t unheard of either. Penelope hoped that, like the card she had sent, everyone would do their best in their respective positions.

At the previous imperial ball, he had been somewhat directly threatening. She tried to investigate what leverage he might have against her but couldn’t uncover anything. Usually, investigations yielded some clues, so this was strange. She wasn’t about to surrender to threats with no substance after all she had endured.

Even if she looked for alternatives now, it would be difficult to find a better match than Larson.

No matter how beautiful that woman might be, she was just a simpleton of unknown origin.

If he really wanted to marry her, he could have her adopted into a minor noble family, but it was rare for men to go that far for women of low birth, no matter how infatuated. Even with such status laundering, that woman could never fulfill the role of Larson’s lady. Some daughter of a noble family would have to become the Duchess of Larson, and simultaneously acknowledge his mistress.

Sending the dress was her signal that she would be that person.

Pleased with her gift, Kian von Larson had readily replied.

Excellent.

Let’s meet at the opera house.

-Kian von Larson

Of course, she expected him to do his best as her fiancé.

When Kian von Larson arrived at the opera box, he maintained only the basic courtesies, as usual.

The seemingly bored look in his eyes was the same as before, but that didn’t matter. She had become immune to his indifference by now.

Following the news article about them dancing the waltz, their joint attendance at the opera would further solidify their engagement, at least on the surface. That was enough.

Initially, Penelope had admired Kian von Larson and even suffered heartache because of him.

But she wasn’t so devoted that her feelings remained unchanged through their drawn-out engagement. All that remained was pride and stubbornness—those two things far more important to her than some paltry love game.

When she spotted that woman in the adjacent box, Penelope couldn’t believe her eyes.

She wore the identical dress. Penelope hadn’t expected him to bring her out since the opera tickets were sold out, let alone dress her in that particular gown.

She had deliberately sent the most expensive dress out of pride. It signaled both that she would treat her as a mistress and keep her under control.

She hoped the woman would understand this upon seeing Penelope wearing the same dress outside.

She couldn’t deny there was a slight mockery in her gesture, but she believed it would be perfectly acceptable.

But then.

That woman looked in her direction. He had even given her expensive opera glasses to make a show of it.

The Duke of Larson, who had been watching straight ahead with crossed legs after merely greeting her, turned his gaze at that exact moment. It was the first time she had seen Kian von Larson so intently focused on something for so long.

Ridiculously, the woman startled and hid behind her escort.

Then hastily left the box. So he’s hidden it from her too. Kian von Larson was disgustingly secretive, as always.

It seemed that the existence of a fiancée was threatening to that woman as well. Then she would have to crush her personally. Penelope wanted to reveal Kian von Larson’s brazen and chilling true nature.

Her destination was obvious. Following her out, Penelope confronted the woman in the lounge, and for a moment, she did lose her composure.

When she returned, the performance had begun, and Kian was gone from his seat. With a sinking feeling, she looked to the side and saw him sitting next to his mistress.

He kept kissing her while wiping the tears that streamed down her face. He deliberately showed this to Penelope. It was an increasingly appalling sight. The kisses, which began like someone comforting a child, gradually became explicitly intense.

They weren’t embracing or pressing their bodies together. They were merely touching lips, yet it gave the impression they were melding flesh, which filled her with disgust. What was most unpleasant was the gaze of people fixated on them.

Obscene acts in opera boxes happened occasionally.

Usually, people unable to control their urges would openly grope each other and, in urgent cases, draw the curtains to complete the act. Humiliating as it was, Penelope had prepared herself even for that, watching her fiancé’s passionate kiss.

But Kian von Larson pulled his lips away.

Conscious of their surroundings, he took off his jacket and put it on that woman. Like the kiss mark hidden under her neckline. It was laughable how he wrapped her tightly in his clothes, seemingly not wanting anyone else to see.

If he had drawn the curtains and enjoyed his pleasure, she wouldn’t have felt so stunned. He had brought his doll to continue what he had been doing with it. She couldn’t stop him.

Yet until the performance ended, the two of them continued watching, holding hands tightly. Even after a kiss that resembled copulation, they acted as though copulation wasn’t the real purpose of their relationship.

That appearance of genuine care crushed and devastated Penelope Steward more than anything else.

Kian von Larson is a devil.

She had always thought him a hopeless bastard, but she had underestimated even that. He was smarter and far more despicable than she had imagined.

While never sparing her a glance, he knew exactly what she was most vulnerable to.

* * *

They left the opera box abruptly. Vivianne was being dragged along by Kian, who gripped her wrist, without understanding why.

“Kian. Why did we leave?”

At first, she had trouble concentrating because of Kian, but as she quietly watched, the performance became enjoyable.

The actors in elaborate makeup singing and performing were beautiful. She realized this was why people used opera glasses to see everything larger and in more detail.

“I want to know what happens next.”

Though she missed the beginning and didn’t fully understand, the opera was a love story. The protagonists were about to overcome all obstacles and unite.

As in fairy tales, this was Vivianne’s favorite part.

“Ki-an. Hello? You could just tell me what happens.”

Despite her repeated questions, he just kept walking forward without answering.

“The performance is almost over. You said you were hot. That’s why we left.”

“I was fine once I stayed still. I wanted to see the ending. Even now, if we go back for the final—”

“This is driving me crazy.”

Kian, who had been walking ahead, stopped and looked at her with a face that seemed to be suppressing something.

“Do you really find that stuff entertaining?”

“…What?”

“I’m going insane trying to control myself. And you’re asking if it’s entertaining?”

Kian might be hot too. His face was flushed. His heavy breathing seemed unusual.

The two walked quickly in silence until they finally reached the carriage.

“Are you in pain? Will you be alright until we get home? Theo said there’s a doctor’s room here. Let’s stop by quickly.”

“Theo.”

Ignoring Vivianne’s words, Kian called for Theodore. Theodore, who had been waiting with the carriage ready, gave a short bow.

“Yes, Master.”

“We have an urgent matter. Take a hired carriage back.”