Questions tangled like thread in her mind.
“Ha.”
Finally, Astaire let out a sigh. He seemed unable to find a proper reason to refuse a private conversation with Reina.
“Then I’ll excuse myself for a moment.”
The teacup in front of the man showed no sign of having been touched.
“I’ll be right back, Daphne.”
Astaire approached Daphne and spoke.
For someone just stepping away for a quick chat, he was staring at her far too intently.
But while looking at his eyes acting out love, Daphne read a different meaning.
Don’t do anything foolish with Phaios.
Under the silent pressure, Daphne smiled so faintly that only Astaire could see it.
She felt wronged. She barely knew Phaios. The Second Prince was the one approaching her unilaterally.
Moreover, if word got out that the Second Prince had visited the estate of Duke and Duchess Seyfried, who supported the First Prince, unfavorable rumors would surely spread.
It was an unwise visit in many ways.
Yet the reason Phaios had come to see her.
Daphne was starting to grow curious about that reason.
Reina and Astaire rose from their seats and left the drawing room.
Creak.
Afterward, only heavy silence hung in the drawing room.
Now only Daphne and Phaios remained in the room.
Phaios’s gaze turned toward the door. He seemed wary, like someone might eavesdrop on the drawing room conversation.
What reason could he have for meeting with her, even at the cost of antagonizing Astaire?
What could he possibly have to say to her so secretly?
Daphne was curious.
“Daphne.”
Phaios called her by her first name.
Daphne couldn’t hide her shocked, shaken expression at that fact.
Somehow, the way Phaios looked at her felt strange. It absolutely wasn’t the look you’d give someone you’d only recently met.
Gladness, longing, wistfulness.
Why?
Phaios continued speaking, seemingly to resolve her confusion.
“Still don’t know who I am?”
“…Have I met Your Highness the Second Prince in the past?”
A bitter emotion briefly crossed Phaios’s face.
“Daphne, it’s me.”
Daphne quietly stared at Phaios.
Dazzling silver hair and blue eyes mixed with a strange violet hue.
A man born with features far too noble to be the Emperor’s bastard.
“Jayden.”
The moment that name fell from Phaios’s lips, Daphne was so shocked she covered her mouth with one hand.
“…Jayden?”
If he was Jayden, everything made sense.
Jayden.
Now even the memory of what surname followed that name had grown hazy.
A boy born into a fallen noble family like herself.
While attending the Imperial Academy, Jayden and she had suffered greatly from the cold treatment of influential noble families.
Especially when she’d stepped in just once to stop them from bullying Jayden.
That’s when her school life had gone wrong.
Jet-black hair. Thick-framed glasses.
That stifling appearance, now that she thought about it, had all been a disguise to hide the distinctive features of royalty.
Suddenly, memories from that time surfaced.
When she’d been packing in the dormitory to drop out as Astaire had told her, Jayden had come to apologize.
When she’d seen Jayden up close then, she’d glimpsed faint white silver hair near the black roots.
Only now did all the puzzle pieces fit together.
Why had she only realized it now?
Phaios had been Jayden.
“It was you.”
“…Yeah, it’s me. Daphne.”
The formal “you” instead of the casual form.
Daphne wanted to define this situation with that expression.
Now they were far too distant to become pure friends again.
Royalty who might become the next Emperor.
The wife of a duke serving that royal’s political rival.
And an unmarried man and a married woman.
She was facing divorce, but still, she wanted to avoid unnecessary gossip. As a currently married person, she couldn’t maintain a friendship with a young unmarried man.
Especially if that person was the Second Prince. She didn’t want to commit anything improper.
“You can call me by name. Phaios.”
“How could I dare do such a thing?”
Phaios didn’t press further.
However.
A bitter emotion passed across the man’s face like wind.
What was that?
Daphne blinked quietly. She must have seen it wrong.
Though they’d attended the Imperial Academy at the same time, they hadn’t been that close back then.
Of course, since Daphne had helped Phaios when he was being bullied, she understood that he felt indebted to her.
But what was that bitter emotion?
“I still haven’t forgotten what happened then.”
Phaios smiled gently, like a calm breeze.
“Now it’s my turn.”
“…Huh?”
“Now it’s my turn to help you.”
She definitely hadn’t helped him expecting anything in return.
Daphne didn’t feel entirely comfortable with Phaios. For some reason, beyond simply being royalty and Astaire’s political rival, there was something else about him.
“If you ever have any troubles, I’ll help you.”
Divorce from Astaire.
That came to mind first, as though it were obvious.
Her divorce had currently hit an impasse.
Could she accept Phaios’s help with that matter?
Could she reveal to his political rival that her entire married life with Astaire had been nothing but a facade?
Absolutely not.
So Daphne kept her mouth firmly shut to the end. She pretended not to see this man’s earnest gaze before her.
“I’ll see you out.”
When Phaios stood, Daphne rose to follow him. That ended the uncomfortable meeting.
As they passed through the corridor to escort him out.
“Lately, it seems the Duchess has been plagued by all sorts of strange rumors.”
That’s when it happened.
Astaire pulled Daphne’s shoulder toward him. Daphne’s entire body went weak for a moment.
Without realizing it, she almost surrendered her body to Astaire’s firm, comfortable embrace.
She straightened her back and stood upright. Her body stiffened in his arms.
Then Astaire whispered by her ear, just loud enough for only Daphne to hear.
“Why don’t you play along.”
“…”
“When I’m asking this much.”
Hot breath tickled her earlobe along with his words. Daphne felt every hair on her body stand on end from head to toe.
“For instance, strange rumors that we’re about to divorce are circulating. Your Highness.”
Astaire spoke while still holding Daphne, looking straight at the prince before him.
“…Are such rumors circulating in high society?”
“According to Lady Melanian, yes.”
No such rumors were circulating in high society.
Only Reina knew, and Reina had said that to test her.
Reina was floundering in the trap she’d set herself.
“I thought we should show people at this point.”
Saying this, Astaire pulled Daphne closer.
Swish—Daphne’s chin was lifted by his hand.
Before Daphne could say anything, Astaire kissed her boldly.
Lips overlapped between soft lips. His tongue, with its rough texture clearly felt, wrapped around hers. From root to tip, it coiled like a persistent snake.
Saliva exchanged with saliva. Daphne felt liquid—whether his or hers, she couldn’t tell—flowing from the corner of her lips.
Too shocked to push Astaire away, she received his kiss completely.
Wet sounds unsuited to a corridor echoed briefly.
For that moment alone, time seemed to stop completely.
Even the flow of all air in the space seemed to cease moving.
Finally, their lips parted.
“…”
Only then could Daphne see Phaios watching them with unreadable eyes. And Reina had somehow come to the corridor as well.
The moment she saw Phaios’s face, doubt bloomed in her heart.
Why did he have that expression?
Phaios looked like he’d just witnessed the world collapsing before his eyes.
But why?
She couldn’t understand.
Could it be…
She wondered if the Second Prince had feelings for her, but even so, it didn’t make sense.
He was now the Avont Empire’s war hero. He had to begin earnestly competing with the First Prince for the throne. In other words, Phaios needed a woman befitting him.
There was no reason for him to approach her, already married.
“Tell people, Lady Melanian.”
Then Astaire broke the silence. His green eyes had sunk lower than usual.
“That we still get along well.”
He chose to show everyone rather than explain a hundred times.
At least, in front of Phaios and Reina.
For Astaire, his possessiveness took priority over Daphne’s shame.
“Until death, our marriage will remain harmonious.”
* * *
Astaire looked down through his study window at Phaios and Reina boarding the carriage leaving the ducal estate.
He still vividly remembered the absurd feeling when Reina had asked him then.
“Is that rumor true? That you two are divorcing?”
“I have no idea where you heard such a ridiculous rumor.”
Astaire didn’t hide his displeasure from his old childhood friend.
Narrowed eyes. Clenched fists.
Anyone could see that Astaire had been in an extremely foul mood then.
Reina had cautiously thrown him several questions while gauging his reaction, and finally Astaire had exploded and shouted.
“Don’t cross the line, Lady Melanian.”
“…”
“I don’t know how long you plan to keep calling us friends despite our age.”
At his carelessly tossed words, Reina’s face had paled, but he’d shown no interest whatsoever.
Right now, Astaire’s mind was filled with only one person—Daphne Seyfried.
Did other people also know about the divorce?
Would Daphne be troubled because of it?
That couldn’t happen. He should be the only one who could trouble that woman.
Even if that woman broke down, he should be the only one who could break her.
“Your Grace.”
Just then. The head butler knocked on his study door. When the door opened, Astaire’s faithful aide Germo entered.
“I’ll step out for a moment.”
He told Reina, then briefly left the study following Germo and the head butler.
The three moved to the middle of a bleak corridor. A distance where Reina couldn’t hear, a space so desolate and secluded that not a single shadow could be seen.
Astaire already anticipated what Germo would tell him. And also that the results of the task he’d assigned him were not ordinary.
Having worked together for over ten years, the three of them were already well-coordinated. Even without saying anything, they could uncannily guess what each other was thinking.
“So what were the results?”
When he confirmed only the three of them remained in the corridor, Astaire spoke.
The head butler and aide Germo exchanged glances.
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bluemoon238
It’s sad that the only way FL is likely to gain any freedom of body or from her current husband (abuser) is some sort of destruction. Harming herself so she won’t be forcefully tied down through pregnancy (douche tactic) or physical and institutional harm to ML and his family. She has to make him physically unable to touch her or make it not worth it.