“Then shall we practice?”

“…I can do well without practice.”

Daphne spoke, suppressing the anger quietly boiling inside her.

The practice the Duke spoke of.

During the short journey to the Imperial Palace by carriage, she knew what practice he wanted.

“Are you sure about that?”

Astaire sneered at her crookedly. His contempt oozed through—what could you possibly do?

That’s when it happened.

Thud!

The carriage hit a speed bump and the wheels clattered. The interior shook, and Daphne’s body lurched forward for a moment.

Toward Astaire’s side.

Daphne instinctively reached out into empty air. To be clear, it wasn’t because she hoped he’d catch her. Just the instinctive action of someone losing their balance.

Astaire didn’t miss that moment.

He grabbed Daphne’s wrist and yanked her toward him. The man’s pull was stronger than the carriage’s jolt.

The distance between them closed in an instant. They drew so close their faces nearly touched.

Just before their lips met, the carriage regained its original speed and continued on.

“Are you really confident?”

“…Yes.”

“Even if you want to kill me right now, try loving me.”

Warm breath rushed in with his words. His warmth grated on her now, making Daphne frown as she answered.

“Yes. I’ll try my best to love you.”

He was asking if she was confident she could act like a loving couple in front of people.

Honestly, she wasn’t confident. But she didn’t want to lose to Astaire, so she answered that way.

“Just words.”

Saying that, he instantly pulled the back of Daphne’s neck. The barely remaining distance between them vanished in one motion.

“Mmph…!”

It was strange. Even though he was such a cold, ruthless man, only his lips were soft and warm. Their lips met, then his tongue entered. His tongue wrapped around and swept over hers so thoroughly she could feel every rough texture.

Astaire wiped away the saliva leaking from their joined mouths with his thumb.

“Stop…!”

At first she was too shocked and simply received his kiss. Then slowly her reason returned and she realized what was happening. Daphne tried to push him away, shoving against his broad chest.

The more she did, the more tightly Astaire bound her. He grabbed her waist and kissed her even more deeply.

“Please… stop.”

“When did your opinion ever matter?”

In a pleasant baritone resembling a deep cave, he ruthlessly trampled Daphne’s wishes. Astaire focused on continuing to kiss her while holding her as they lay in the carriage.

His remaining hand fumbled at her dress collar. He pulled hard at the luxurious lace worth about a commoner’s monthly wages, seeming ready to tear it off at any moment.

“Hah…!”

Daphne felt humiliated by the sounds coming from her mouth. Self-loathing washed over her at the fact that she’d sought pleasure, even briefly, from contact with him.

“St-stop it!”

Daphne shouted. Regardless, Astaire continued kissing her with an utterly expressionless face. Her toes tingled at the rough texture.

“Please…”

By the end she was almost begging. She clutched his chest tightly, pleading for him to stop. Daphne felt ashamed.

Only then did the man relax his grip on her. Daphne didn’t miss the moment and shoved the Duke away.

“What are you doing!”

“Practice.”

Though he’d kissed her hotter than fire, he spat out the word in a voice colder than ice. She wanted to slap Astaire’s cheek.

“You’re good at it.”

Astaire smiled coldly and wiped the saliva from his mouth with his hand.

“You still love me. Admit what’s true.”

No. That couldn’t be. She’d let go of all expectations and feelings for him—she couldn’t love him.

“Don’t think about running from me.”

“Who are you to bind me however you want?”

“Once something enters my hands, I never intend to let it go.”

A chill ran down her spine.

His green eyes, which always resembled a summer forest, now looked like a forest in the dead of winter with falling snow. The moment she saw those coldly gleaming eyes, Daphne’s breath caught.

She was afraid now.

Afraid she’d never escape him.

Suddenly she lost confidence in running from him. Right now, that man’s eyes were a predator’s eyes—eyes that would chase her to the ends of the earth if she ran anywhere.

Terrible possessiveness.

The possessiveness of never letting go of what he’d grasped was definitely not love.

This man didn’t love her.

He just wanted to possess her.

“I’m… not your toy.”

“Right. You’re not my toy.”

Astaire looked down at Daphne, who was collapsed on the carriage seat and smiled coldly.

He willingly extended his hand, but Daphne ignored it and stood up straight on her own.

“You’re my precious tool with many uses still.”

“What if I become useless?”

She asked impulsively.

Why? Her heart beat rapidly. Thump, thump, thump.

Did his answer matter that much? Surely not.

“You could never become useless to me.”

The man’s cold sneer took her breath away.

Meanwhile, another thought flashed through her mind like lightning.

If I truly lost my usefulness.

Then, would you finally let me go?

* * *

“Duke and Duchess Seyfried entering!”

The palace gatekeeper shouted loudly from outside. Simultaneously, the massive palace gates that seemed like they’d never open slowly parted.

The carriage gradually slowed and soon stopped completely. Astaire exited first and extended his hand to Daphne.

Daphne gripped his hand tightly and stepped down from the carriage.

That’s when it happened. The attendant greeting nobles entering the banquet ahead looked at Daphne with an extremely flustered expression.

Why?

Thinking that, Daphne soon realized.

Looking down, it was quite a sight.

Her dress was completely disheveled.

Especially the collar area.

“Haha, the ducal couple is always so affectionate.”

The attendant they often saw coming and going from the palace laughed pleasantly and let the couple inside. Astaire smiled awkwardly too, but Daphne knew that face was thoroughly an act.

Daphne quickly straightened her appearance and entered.

The moment the gatekeeper opened the door, dazzling light poured down.

And countless people’s gazes turned toward her and Astaire.

“Stay calm.”

Astaire spoke mockingly into her ear. Daphne also lifted her head slightly and whispered to him.

“I’ll manage fine.”

“Really?”

He brought his face close, speaking like he might kiss her again. Then all the surrounding gazes fixed on them.

“People are watching. Do well.”

Saying that, Astaire briefly kissed her right cheek.

Gasps came from around them. Daphne tried hard not to show her displeasure, conscious of their audience.

That’s when it happened.

“First Prince Carlos di Blanterian Avont entering!”

The moment the name of the likely next Emperor was called, everyone’s attention shifted from the ducal couple to that direction.

Sweeping back his curly reddish-brown hair, the man crossed the palace hall with steps more confident than anyone’s. As he passed, people split to both sides of the path in perfect unison.

Everyone just stared at the man.

No one dared speak to the famous First Prince. No, they found it difficult to even make eye contact.

“I greet the First Prince.”

Not many in this Empire could approach and greet him first.

Astaire, leader of the high nobles’ gathering “Blue Bloods,” approached first and bowed to Carlos.

“It’s been a while, Duke Seyfried.”

Carlos di Blanterian Avont.

The current Avont Emperor’s only son with the Empress, who might soon inherit the imperial throne after the Emperor was seriously injured falling from his horse during a hunt.

Since the Emperor could no longer move properly, he could be considered one of the Avont Empire’s highest authorities along with the ministers.

“Second Prince Phaios di Blanterian Avont entering!”

The second son from the mistress the Emperor favored.

If only the Second Prince, the Emperor’s only other offspring, hadn’t returned alive from war.

The nobles stirred at the Second Prince’s appearance. Murmurs came from everywhere.

The most important phrase written on today’s banquet invitation.

A banquet is held to celebrate Second Prince Phaios di Blanterian Avont’s return.

The Emperor’s seal was stamped at the bottom of the invitation. In other words, it meant officially recognizing the Second Prince who’d been below the surface, and supporting him as a candidate for the next Emperor.

Nobles had various theories about why the Emperor wouldn’t designate his legitimate son as heir but instead made his illegitimate son compete.

What was certain was that though his body was injured, the Emperor whose mind and intelligence remained sharp had officially raised the curtain on the imperial succession battle between the First and Second Princes.

That’s how important today’s palace banquet was.

Nominally it was a banquet to honor the Second Prince who’d gone to war, brought victory, become a war hero, and returned in glory, but reality differed.

“Did you receive the gift I sent well, Duke?”

“Yes, the precious gift Your Highness bestowed will be protected as a family heirloom of our ducal house for generations.”

“Well, do as you please with that.”

Carlos smiled coldly. His slightly upturned eyes narrowed, creating a snake-like impression.

The First Prince moistened his dry lips with his tongue, then acknowledged Daphne standing beside the Duke like he’d just noticed her.

“The Duchess is as beautiful as ever.”

“I greet the First Prince. Thank you.”

Though she didn’t actually welcome it at all, Daphne responded to the First Prince’s acknowledgment with appropriate pleasure.

The day before the palace banquet. Yesterday.

The First Prince suddenly sent a gift.

A replica meticulously crafted after the sword the founding Emperor bestowed upon vassals who helped establish the Avont Empire.

The original was in the deepest part of the imperial treasury, holding symbolic value as Avont Empire history itself.

Bestowing a replica of such a sword to the Seyfried ducal house, the leader family of “Blue Bloods,” was essentially pressure hoping their loyalty to the First Prince would remain unchanged.

It looked like a gift, but was actually a warning.

Don’t betray the First Prince and defect to the Second Prince faction just because the Second Prince was seriously entering the succession competition.

Those who defected would pay the price.

That was the real message First Prince Carlos wanted to convey to his followers.

As their representative, Duke Astaire Seyfried at the forefront of the First Prince faction received his gift.

“Don’t worry. Our ‘Blue Bloods’ will always be at Your Highness’s side.”

“Hmm, is that so? I’ve been hearing interesting news lately.”

Carlos drawled mockingly at Duke Seyfried’s silent loyalty.

The atmosphere instantly froze.