Sage urged, looking as if he would die of frustration.

Advice? It sounded as if Jean were actually involved in some romance.

Jean suddenly felt irritated.

He couldn’t understand why he needed to discuss this with Sage and Laurel.

Yet unlike his usual self, he couldn’t coldly dismiss them.

The sense of relief he had felt upon seeing Simonetta waiting for him at the mansion made him uneasy.

Her sweet voice reciting the love letter, her slightly flushed cheeks, and even how she had poured tea over the letter when he asked for it.

Strangely, her image lingered, tickling his heart.

Jean sighed and spoke with a sullen face.

“Simonetta. She said her name was Simonetta.”

He wasn’t certain if that was her real name. Since she was hiding her identity, she surely had another name.

Suddenly, this fact angered him.

Come to think of it, all he knew about Simonetta was that she was cursed with forbidden magic that made deadly poison flow through her body, and that she ran a small shop.

“Is she a noble? Which family’s lady is she?”

“She’s a merchant.”

“A merchant? So she’s a commoner? Is that allowed?”

Sage turned his head toward Laurel rather than Jean.

Even ignorant Sage knew that nobles and commoners couldn’t marry.

“Well, that’s… yes, that’s right.”

Laurel understood exactly what Sage was asking and hedged while watching Jean’s reaction.

“Who said anything about marriage? I just mentioned her because you asked…”

Jean was speaking coldly, suppressing his rising irritation, when he suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Then, as if entranced, he turned his head toward the stage and stared fixedly at a woman standing there. Laurel and Sage also turned toward the stage, noticing his sudden change.

“What’s this? Looks like another performance is starting.”

There were three dancers on the stage.

Unlike before, they wore elaborate masks covering half their faces.

The sight created a strangely mysterious atmosphere.

“Well, well. So the Boss’s taste runs in that direction?”

Sage spoke with interest, observing Jean who couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, unlike his earlier indifferent gaze.

Jean forced himself to look away.

“Why is she there?”

“Who? Who’s there?”

Jean ignored Sage’s question.

His throat felt parched. He quickly grabbed the glass in front of him and gulped down the liquor.

But the emerald eyes visible through the mask remained imprinted in his mind, refusing to disappear.

Perhaps due to the alcohol, his cold blood began to heat up.

It was strange. Someone must have drugged his drink.

Jean drank repeatedly to quench the peculiar thirst rising within him.

* * *

Roen was frozen with tension.

Ventus, the owner of Ranke, was watching her from below the stage with anxious eyes.

He too still looked confused by her sudden proposal.

Roen was grateful to at least be wearing a mask.

Though she had concealed her face with elaborate makeup, it wasn’t perfect.

Any noble who had visited Simonetta’s general store would surely recognize her.

‘Was I too reckless?’

Roen looked toward Jean’s table as Ventus had instructed.

The men engaged in serious conversation with him were Laurel, the captain of the Imperial Knights, and Sage, the vice-captain.

Who were also part of the Black Knights.

‘Unless they’re planning rebellion, why so serious?’

She wondered how to capture Jean’s attention when he wasn’t even glancing at the stage. She felt anxious.

As the music began, Roen moved her body with the dancers in rhythm.

In fact, creating the Peirasmos at Ranke had been Roen’s idea.

Given the nature of men’s social clubs, alcohol and women were essential.

Above all, at Ranke, where information was bought and sold, the Peirasmos were not just dancers or high-class courtesans but valuable informants.

The Peirasmos used their beauty to obtain information more easily than men could.

Additionally, by granting them the privilege to refuse unwanted clients, the Peirasmos had no choice but to be loyal to Ranke.

Roen hoped that the lives of these women, often considered insignificant, would be peaceful in some small way. And most of her wishes had been fulfilled.

Roen carefully observed the nobles while dancing to the languid melody.

Thinking about it now, she realized there was no better way to observe them while lowering their guard.

‘I’m glad I learned dancing from Esther.’

Esther was Ventus’s younger sister and the person responsible for training the Peirasmos.

It was also Esther’s role to train incoming Peirasmos as informants.

‘I’m not sure if this was a good idea.’

The reason for Roen’s impulsive decision to join the Peirasmos for a performance was because of Jean.

But now that she was on stage, she wasn’t sure if her choice had been right.

Roen stared at Jean from behind her mask.

Jean, who had been conversing without even glancing at the stage, raised his head as if sensing her gaze.

And in an instant, their eyes met.

Roen instinctively held her breath.

‘He knows it’s me.’

His ice-cold eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed.

How did he recognize her?

It wouldn’t be easy to connect a dancer performing on stage wearing heavy makeup and a mask with the owner of a general store.

Yet Jean had seen through her identity in that brief moment their eyes met.

“Was I too careless?”

No, that wasn’t it. Even Esther and Ventus had assured her no one would recognize her.

He was simply too perceptive.

Roen opened the fan she was holding to cover her face.

Jean’s gaze still wouldn’t leave her. He even appeared to be entranced by her.

She could see the man sitting beside him saying something, but Jean didn’t even turn his head.

She felt strangely tense.

The Peirasmos dance was extremely sensual, designed to seduce men.

Every gesture and expression was deliberately provocative, almost expl*cit.

But until now, Roen had never been conscious of this. Yet under Jean’s gaze, she became aware of everything.

Almost to the point of wanting to escape his stare.

As if reading her thoughts, she saw Jean’s lips twist into a cold smile.

In that moment, a competitive spirit flared up through her bewildered emotions.

She couldn’t lose. She didn’t want to back down from his provocation as he looked at her mockingly, as if challenging her.

‘This might be an opportunity. If I play this right, I might succeed in seducing him. That would be my only chance to shake him.’

Roen slowly lowered her fan and licked her red lips.

Her expression, which had seemed hesitant and ready to retreat, changed instantly.

Roen fixed her gaze on Jean with a bold expression. Then, as if to tempt him, she lifted her skirt to reveal her slender ankles.

The ankles visible through the lace undergarments were incredibly sensual.

She could hear nobles gasping here and there, but Roen didn’t even glance at them.

All her attention was focused on Jean.

Unlike the other dancers performing with her, Roen’s dance wasn’t expl*cit.

Her natural elegance and restrained movements, cultivated through years of education, instead provoked men’s desire to conquer.

That made her more sensual and irresistibly decadent.

However, Roen, unaware of this fact, was serious.

‘Why isn’t he reacting? Should I move more explicitly? Or am I just not attractive enough?’

Jean’s gaze remained cold as he looked at her.

His expression remained rigid, as if unmoved.

The music and dance were approaching their climax, but Jean’s attitude remained cold.

The performance would end soon. She couldn’t finish without achieving anything.

She needed to make one final move.

With elegant movements, Roen boldly descended from the stage.

The other dancers seemed a bit surprised by her sudden action but skillfully followed her down.

Fortunately, Roen hadn’t ruined the performance. Relieved, she stood before Jean without a moment’s hesitation.

Their gazes instantly intertwined.

Without taking her eyes off Jean, Roen languidly fanned the air with her fan.

The transparent, smooth fabric swayed, enticing him.

Roen’s sweet scent enveloped Jean like magic.

The tension between them was so palpable that even Laurel and Sage blushed and averted their gaze.

Roen’s gaze, filled with sticky emotions, swept over Jean’s face and firm body.

Just as the s*xual tension between them reached its peak, with a soft thud, Roen dropped the fan she was holding into Jean’s hand.

A languid exclamation escaped from the nobles’ lips.

The nobles at Ranke all knew what this meant.

That the beautiful and enchanting Peirasmos standing before them had chosen with whom she wished to spend the night.

Gazes mixed with regret and envy were directed at Jean.

Jean stared at the fan in his hand and then gripped it.

Not knowing what it signified, he looked at Roen standing before him.

Emerald eyes gazed at him from beneath the mask.

Her red lips and sweet scent were not unpleasant.

Until just moments ago, he had been annoyed by the sticky gazes of women. But the expl*cit gaze of the woman standing before him wasn’t unpleasant.

Rather, he felt angry at the nobles who were staring at her exposed slender neck and face like animals in heat.

“Why…?”

Just as he was about to speak, the music ended.

And as if the spell had broken, Roen turned away from him and walked away.

Her dress swayed in the gentle light of the chandeliers.

Watching her elegant, restrained movements, Jean felt the urge to grab her arm and make her look at him.

‘I must be insane. Completely insane!’

Jean clenched his fist and turned his gaze away from Simonetta.

Then he stared blankly at the fan in his hand.