“I thought it was a simple yet effective strategy. What do you think? Did it win your heart?”

His clasped hand was warm with kindness, and his crimson eyes sparkled with anticipation, hoping for praise.

Under the golden light, Cornelia’s expression was ambiguous, neither a smile nor tears.

“Lia?”

She barely opened her lips to speak.

“…And if it did?”

“Then I’ll keep using this strategy to continue courting you. Until I can truly win your heart.”

Carlisle, adorned with a charming smile, remained as alluring as ever.

Cornelia let out a small sigh.

“Is this how you always do things?”

“What do you mean?”

“If things don’t go your way, you use money to get what you want.”

Her words, laced with coolness, made Carlisle furrow his brows.

Cornelia hadn’t expected herself to voice such thoughts aloud.

“I saw it with my own eyes—the statue from the Kingdom of Romania was being carried through the main gates of the Citran Count’s estate.”

“I heard it was extremely expensive. The Romanian royal family supposedly named an astronomical price. To buy it, you’d need to be among the wealthiest in the Roman Empire”

“My goodness! Did His Majesty really purchase it?”

When she first overheard the conversation of young noble ladies in the dessert café, she had feigned indifference, but inside, she was anything but calm.

She knew she had no right to feel this way after rejecting Carlisle’s proposal.

Yet, had he not once pursued her so fervently, declaring their meeting as fate and sending her bouquets?

Discovering that he had since turned his affections to another woman made her stomach churn.

She had always told herself that their time together was nothing more than a fleeting indulgence. But had she secretly hoped to be someone special to him?

The doubt creeping up her throat whispered that Carlisle and Grace’s relationship was not merely a strategic alliance. Breathing became difficult.

“It seems my efforts did not please you after all.”

Carlisle’s response was calm.

He had every right to be upset by her sharp words, yet he offered no further argument.

A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the lively noise of the tavern.

The performance had ended, and there was nothing more to discuss with Carlisle.

Just as Cornelia was about to rise from her seat—

“Cori, you need to move your body more. Not just watching paintings or performances, but something active.”

A sudden memory gripped her, halting her movements.

Cornelia lifted her head abruptly, staring blankly at Carlisle.

“What is it?”

“I have a question…”

Her hushed whisper lacked strength, yet Carlisle managed to catch her murmured words.

“What is it?”

His steady crimson gaze had moved even closer.

“Do you, by any chance, know the royal sculptor of the Kingdom of Romania?”

“The royal sculptor?”

“Yes.”

Carlisle tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing once again.

Cornelia swallowed dryly, her eyes fixed on his lips.

Why did such a short moment, the span of a single breath, feel so agonizingly slow?

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly curious about this.”

“…..”

“But I suppose I should answer, shouldn’t I? No, I don’t.”

Carlisle shook his head firmly.

“You don’t?”

Cornelia’s voice rose slightly as she repeated his answer. Her body trembled faintly.

“I have no idea who you’re referring to. I’m not particularly interested in the arts.”

Cornelia’s pale face momentarily turned ashen.

“Lia, what’s wrong? Should I know this sculptor?”

As she slowly lifted her head, she met his gaze, filled with genuine curiosity.

Cornelia struggled to compose herself, then shook her head sluggishly.

“No… it’s nothing.”

She recalled a time when her brother had grumbled upon realizing he shared a hobby with the emperor.

He had mentioned it multiple times—so why had she foolishly failed to connect the dots sooner?

Adrian’s interests were active and dynamic—hunting, horseback riding. Unlike her, who found solace in the arts.

In the end, the noblewomen’s gossip had been untrue.

Someone might have manipulated public opinion, or it could have simply been an exaggerated rumor.

Had she taken just a moment to investigate before jumping to conclusions, she wouldn’t have let her emotions get the better of her just because Carlisle was involved.

Standing there in stunned realization, Cornelia blinked in disbelief.

“Is it my turn now?”

Carlisle leaned in and whispered.

“Ah.”

The warmth of his breath against her ear sent a shiver down her spine.

When their eyes met, his radiant smile deepened, accentuated by the dimples carved into his cheeks.

“I may not know what troubled you, but since my answer seems to have helped, I’d like to request something in return.”

“Request? What do you—”

Before she could fully grasp his meaning, Cornelia’s vision went dark.

Carlisle, his touch gentle yet firm, grasped the nape of her neck and sealed her lips with his own.

He pressed forward without hesitation, tracing her teeth before parting them.

His kiss was fervent, unyielding—laced with a raw, undeniable hunger for her.

That alone was enough to confirm the sincerity behind his words.

As their lips briefly parted, Cornelia gasped for air, her breath shallow and rapid.

Her chest rose and fell visibly, betraying her shaken composure.

Carlisle, his thumb brushing over her flushed cheek, looked upon her with deep satisfaction.

“I wasn’t interested until now… but perhaps it’s time I start taking an interest in art.”

“Why all of a sudden?”

“Thanks to a certain someone in front of me, I’ve started to like it.”

Cornelia immediately sought to apply the lesson she had learned earlier.

Especially when it came to anything involving Carlisle.

“Do you realize how I might interpret those words?”

At her direct question, Carlisle’s smile deepened.

He was satisfied with her changed attitude—this time, she wasn’t running away or avoiding him.

“I won’t force you. Not right now.”

“Carlisle.”

“So, Lia, stay where you are. Don’t run away.”

Carlisle had clearly realized how much he had shaken her, how even now, she was still wavering because of him.

As expected of a skilled strategist, he was perceptive, quick-witted, and incredibly sharp.

The more Carlisle’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk, the more Cornelia’s heart quivered.

“Shall we watch another performance?”

“What do you mean? The performance just ended.”

Carlisle held out his hand, offering her an enticing bait she wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Didn’t I mention spending a bit of money?”

“What does that mean?”

“The next one is something I know you’ll enjoy. You can watch as many as you like.”

Clever as ever, Carlisle was buying himself more time to his advantage.

Cornelia bit down on her slightly swollen lower lip.

As expected, Carlisle’s gaze immediately followed the movement.

A faint chuckle.

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind continuing where our kiss left off instead.”

‘Good heavens!’

It almost felt like he had an invisible tail swaying behind him in amusement and temptation.

Cornelia was utterly overwhelmed.

***

One Week Later

A week had passed since she spent the night with Carlisle and three days since their late-night outing.

During that time, Carlisle had repeatedly sent messages through Peligian, requesting to see her again. And just as persistently, Cornelia had turned away, refusing to take his hand.

The traces of Carlisle that had once lingered all over her body had now begun to fade.

Aside from the moment she had nearly broken into a cold sweat trying to come up with an excuse to refuse Sophie’s offer to assist with her bath—lest she arouse suspicion—Cornelia’s life had remained unchanged since before she met Carlisle.

Well, except for one thing—she kept thinking about their moments together.

Actually, it wasn’t just sometimes. She thought about them far too often.

But she had decided not to dwell on how many times she thought of him.

Because the path was too clear.

It was a path she should never set foot on.

“Haa…”

“My lady, is something wrong?”

‘Ah! That startled me!’

She had been so lost in thought about Carlisle that she had completely forgotten about her nanny and Sophie standing beside her.

Sophie, who had been tidying up, had suddenly stopped to look at her. Cornelia averted her gaze and spoke in a low voice.

“What would I be troubled about…?”

Lately, she had unintentionally shown too many moments of weakness to those around her.

Cornelia pressed her lips together, determined to regain her composure.

“Oh! My lady, which dress should we prepare for today? You have a tea party this afternoon.”

“That was today? Oh no, I’ve been so distracted these past few days that I completely forgot. Where was it again?”

“At the Citran Count’s estate!”

Of all places, what impeccable timing.

Her first social gathering after spending the night with Carlisle was a tea party hosted by none other than his rumored lover.

Cornelia’s light brown eyes darkened slightly.

The misunderstanding had been cleared up, and she had personally confirmed that Carlisle’s engagement with the Citran family was purely a political arrangement.

She should have been unaffected by it.

Yet, the uneasy feeling, like a thorn caught in her throat, refused to go away.

Should she just skip it? Her body did seem to be aching again…

She hesitated for a moment but eventually sighed.

“Haa… I suppose I have to go, don’t I?”

“Pardon? My lady, what did you say?”

“Hmm? Nothing.”

She had meant to keep that thought to herself, but somehow, the words had slipped out.

Why did this keep happening?

Cornelia let out a deliberate breath, closing and reopening her eyes before turning to her nanny and Sophie.

“There are quite a few noble families attending today, correct?”

“Yes, my lady. It seems like invitations were sent to nearly all the high-ranking aristocratic families.”

“I see.”

Realistically, someone of Cornelia’s status didn’t have to attend the Citran Count’s tea party if she didn’t want to.

Even though Lady Grace’s position had risen slightly since becoming Carlisle’s rumored lover, her family still wasn’t considered among the empire’s top noble houses.

The power and wealth of the great noble families had been established over countless generations.

And an emperor’s lover, unless formally crowned with a tiara, did nothing to elevate her family’s status or bring them any real influence.

“How about this one? Since it’s been a while, why not go with something dazzling?”

Sophie cheerfully held up a dress, her excitement evident. But the nanny, standing beside her, widened her eyes in alarm.

“Oh my… Sophie… that’s a bit…”

“Why? It would look stunning on our lady!”

“Sophie, consider the theme of the gathering.”

The nanny shot Cornelia a quick glance as she spoke.

Sophie pouted, holding up a dress that shimmered brilliantly under the light, while the nanny furrowed her brows in disapproval.

The two of them looked like characters from a comedic play.

Cornelia eyed the rose-gold dress adorned with diagonal rows of tiny diamonds and shook her head.

‘Good grief! How could I possibly wear that?’

Straightening her posture, Cornelia let out a small sigh.

Passion was good and all, but…

The nanny was right—attending a literary gathering in a gown with a plunging backline down to her waist was far too excessive.

“My lady… are you sure? Not even this dress?”

“The color is too flashy. The design is too bold. How about something more subdued, with a statement hat instead?”

“But… this was specially set aside by the madam just for you.”

Sophie pleaded with a sorrowful expression, but Cornelia’s response was firm.

“Not this time. Maybe next time.”