2.4

After enduring various pains, she finally managed to lay Lucian down on the bed. It was fortunate the room had a bed. If she had to go outside, Iliana wouldn’t have hesitated to dump her crush on the floor.  

“Hah…”  

It had been an ordeal in many ways. Her patience, her resentment toward him, and the alcohol—oh, that damned alcohol!  

As she watched Lucian exhale softly in his sleep, her shoulders tingled. It felt as if the marks he had left on her skin still radiated warmth. Her pounding heart fueled reckless thoughts.  

Well, it’s only for a month anyway.

If I’m going to repeat this for a month, then this much selfishness is…

Turning off the lights, she sat on the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly. Stroking Lucian’s dark hair, she noticed the moonlight filtering through the curtains.  

It was neither too late nor too early at night. A man and a woman. Alone. In a closed room. With alcohol.  

She suddenly realized.  

All the conditions were perfectly aligned in her favor, yet he harbored not even a single ounce of desire for her.  

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the alcohol, but she felt like crying. Even the faint sound of her sniffles echoing in the room felt pitiful. Yet, she held back her tears.  

“Don’t cry, Lana…”  

A murmuring voice rose from below.  

Whether it was a mutter in his sleep or just a dream, Lucian’s words reached her.  

“…”  

That’s right. As long as I keep my mouth shut, no one will ever know. Just one month. I’ll endure until we leave for the capital.  

A secret only I know, one that even Lucian doesn’t. 

The frozen dawn air was beginning to thaw. Hugging her knees, Iliana closed her heavy eyelids. 

Ah, I really do want to disappear a little bit. 

At the thought that followed, her lips curved downward.

* * *  

If only the letter hadn’t arrived.  

“A letter addressed to you, my lady.”  

“Thank you…”  

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Iliana accepted the letter and trudged out of bed. Her head throbbed from the hangover.  

How diligent. 

She had barely had a day to recover from drinking, yet the letter had already arrived. Iliana quickened her steps.  

The distance between the Declan and Raylin estates wasn’t far, so it didn’t take long for letters to arrive. Still, it usually took two days for mail to be delivered, so for it to arrive this quickly meant it had been sent directly.  

Written and sent on the same day.  

“Isn’t this a bit too hasty…?”  

She mumbled to herself, but her lips couldn’t help curling upward.  

Even though she knew it was improper, Iliana tore open the letter as she walked through the hallway.  

With her heart pounding, she read each sentence carefully, her crooked thoughts making her scrutinize every word.  

[To my dear friend, Iliana.]  

Lucian Declan, who cherishes a different kind of “dear” than I do, how are you?  

[I couldn’t help but wonder about your well-being after the lackluster farewell earlier. Did you get home safely?]  

Yes, thanks to you, I couldn’t even sleep properly.  

The letter, which she had opened with hopeful excitement, was filled with a polite apology for the drinking session, starting with a kind greeting.  

The conversation from the early hours came to mind. It seemed he had been quite shocked to find her sitting in the chair, unable to sleep.  

The memory of him awkwardly smiling as their eyes met, while she massaged her temples to keep her eyeballs from popping out, was truly exasperating.  

– Lucian, don’t you remember?  

– …I’m sorry. I know it’s disgraceful, but no, I don’t.  

He had looked so genuinely apologetic that she had managed to suppress her anger and return home.  

Frowning, Iliana stopped in her tracks and turned to open the study door. The sentences that followed cooled her expectations.  

As expected, the letter apologized for his inability to remember anything, expressing regret if he had been rude and asking for details about what had happened.  

[Sincerely, I’m sorry.]  

Iliana let out a sigh at the umpteenth apology.  

What had I been expecting? 

Laughing bitterly at her own foolishness, she grabbed the quill lying on the desk. She already knew what she was going to write.  

She moved the pen lightly. Her head ached, but her memories were vivid, which made it feel a bit unfair. Still, she thought, it was something she had to do, so she didn’t let herself get too emotional.  

[To my friend, Lucian Declan.]  

Consciously suppressing her feelings, the letter ended up being brief.  

Don’t worry; nothing happened. But more importantly, this confirms that you’ve reached your limit. Before fixing your drinking habits, it’s crucial to know your boundaries.  

[Don’t worry too much; it wasn’t anything serious. If you want, I wouldn’t mind meeting again.]  

“…”  

Staring at the final sentence, which she had filled with just a hint of her feelings, Iliana closed her eyes tightly before sliding the letter into an envelope.  

Who knows? Maybe Lucian also sees me in a positive light, and that… kiss… that physical contact wasn’t just a drunken mistake.

…That’s what I hope, at least.

The reply she sent arrived back in just a few hours. Greeting the maid who delivered the letter, Iliana eagerly tore it open.  

He must have been in a hurry!

The faint smile on her lips betrayed her excitement.  

Walking briskly, she unfolded the letter. As expected, it contained a response asking when she would be available to meet, and her shoulders lifted slightly.  

What should I reply with? 

Humming softly, she was interrupted by a sharp voice ringing in her ears.  

“What’s this? A letter? You, who don’t interact with outsiders except during the season, are writing letters? Shouldn’t you be preparing to leave for the capital instead?”  

“Mind your own business, Anas.”  

Iliana frowned at the familiar face of her younger sister. Anas shrugged, clearly unbothered by her disapproving glare.

“Why are you so sensitive? So, who sent it?”  

“It’s someone you don’t need to know about.”  

What was that? 

Anas frowned subtly at the childish response. Watching her older sister, who seemed to lack any sense of responsibility despite her age, Anas decided to follow Iliana.  

“Is something going on?”  

“I told you to mind your own business.”  

“You didn’t seem like this before. Are you dating someone?”  

“It’s not like that, so stop asking!”  

Iliana snapped while grabbing a quill in the study. Anas’s gaze remained persistent as she watched her sister.  

Shaking the ink bottle unnecessarily, Iliana waited for Anas to leave. When her sister showed no signs of leaving, Iliana finally tucked the letter into her arms and spoke.  

“Hey, Anas.”  

“What?”  

Anas answered curtly, leaning against the door with a hand on it, standing in a crooked posture. Iliana turned her gaze slightly away, exhaling a small sigh of expectation that lingered in the same space.  

“If I were to, let’s say…”  

“Yeah?”  

“…ask someone to help me fix my bad drinking habits by drinking together, what do you think they’d say?”  

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”  

“No, it’s just… I’m curious.”  

At her sister’s expression, filled with genuine contempt, Iliana’s voice gradually trailed off.  

“Are you not going to answer?”

She asked timidly. Anas snorted in disbelief.  

“Are you insane?”  

“Is that something you should say to your sister?”  

“That’s my honest answer. I’d think you’ve lost your mind. Are you trying to flirt with someone? Ha, why don’t you say that to Lucian Declan, the one you’re so hopelessly in love with, instead of me? I’m busy. Get out.”  

Watching her younger sister spew out words like a bomber, Iliana straightened her back and let out a huff. Gathering her ink and quill, she quickly retreated to her room, her heart racing with excitement.  

But still, wasn’t it true? After all, Lucian’s reply had said…  

[If your schedule allows, I’d like to have another drink together soon. Would that be alright?]  

The very sentence she had hoped and longed for was written there!  

Yes, alcohol makes people honest, but it doesn’t awaken strange fetishes. So, the fact that Lucian kissed her, or… shared a bed with her, to some extent…  

“There might… be a chance…”  

Hiding the seal on the letter with ink to avoid it being seen, Iliana returned to her room. Her hopes seemed to be answered when a reply arrived less than two days after she sent hers.