Andrea’s eyes snapped open.

Sunlight streaming from behind cut diagonally across her head and settled quietly on the floor. She felt strangely uneasy at this peaceful scene, probably because the wood floor’s pattern wasn’t familiar.

Someone was even lying behind her as she lay on her side.

‘Who….’

This clearly wasn’t her bedroom, but she couldn’t even guess who might be in the same bed with her, so she froze for a moment. But since there was no sign of movement from the person behind her, she swallowed once and carefully turned around.

Black waterfall-like hair scattered on the pillow was the first thing that caught her eye.

Then she saw a straight white neck and jaw as the head was turned the other way. And a man’s n*ked body.

Andrea sat up in shock.

She was wearing a shirt she’d never seen before from who knows where, and when she sat up, the shirt opened and her bare chest was completely exposed. It was covered with blotchy marks all over.

She suddenly remembered the man who had bitten her br*asts while looking up at her from below yesterday.

“……!!”

Her entire body heated up instantly.

She hastily closed the shirt and looked at the man with a face ready to burst.

‘What do I do…!’

She remembered it. Everything.

While she was panicking and flailing about, the man stirred.

“Mm….”

Andrea jumped down to the floor like the bed had become a hot iron plate. Then she gripped the edge of the bed and watched the man’s condition like a child peeking over a wall.

Fortunately, the man didn’t get up and became quiet again.

She had to get out of here quickly before the man woke up.

She crouched flat at the foot of the bed and immediately threw off the shirt. Then, fortunately finding her clothes scattered around the bed, she dragged them together and put them on as quickly as possible, roughly managing to look decent. Then she crept toward the door.

She was about to open the door when some thought occurred to her, and she hesitated. She looked at the man still sleeping, thought briefly, then carefully approached the bedside table again and picked up a pen.

After writing a note, she crept like a cat again, and as soon as she reached the door, she immediately ran out.

‘It wasn’t Lady Priscilla…!’

She felt like crying.

At first, she had really just spoken to anyone on the bridge. So when she first faced the man who looked at her with a troubled expression, her heart dropped to her stomach in shock. Because he was clearly Priscilla wearing men’s clothes, no matter how you looked at it.

She thought he was pretending not to know her because he didn’t want to be caught disguising himself as a man and wandering around freely alone. Or maybe he was pretending not to know her so she wouldn’t be embarrassed about rambling on about her confession in front of the person himself.

If it was the latter, she was grateful for his kind heart, but she definitely wanted to confirm that he was Priscilla. To be honest, she couldn’t say she didn’t have ulterior motives of trying to seduce him. Even though her confession had failed, it seemed like she’d been given another chance.

Knowing that Priscilla still saw her only as young, she had tried to show her mature charm somewhat under the influence of alcohol….

Thud.

“Ah!”

Going down the stairs, her legs gave out and she almost fell. She barely managed to grip the wall and collapsed shakily.

If the man had made up his mind yesterday, there would have been no reason to reject her when she was so openly throwing herself at him. From the middle onward, Andrea had also lost her reason and it didn’t matter which way he went, and she would have rather welcomed it if the man had gone all the way. But the man hadn’t done that.

‘Home… let me go home first.’

Andrea forced strength into her legs and got up, then went outside the hotel.

***

Rustle, rustle rustle…. Swish swish swish.

Gillian, lying turned away, was dumbfounded.

‘Does she think I can’t hear that sound?’

She seemed to be trying to put on clothes without making noise, but if the floor had been just a little thinner, the room below would have filed a noise complaint. Sure enough, he had woken up from that sound too.

Anyway, it seemed Andrea had roughly put on her clothes, then carefully approached the door while watching his condition.

Creak. Squeak. Creak. Creeeak.

The gapped wooden floor sang almost melodiously.

‘Is there any point in pretending to sleep?’

That’s how he felt. But right now, rather than making rational judgments, Andrea seemed to have a stronger desire for Gillian not to wake up, so she was trying hard to believe he hadn’t woken up.

But for some reason, she came back.

‘Ugh, my neck hurts.’

Andrea was fidgeting around the bedside table writing something. His patience for pretending to sleep was reaching its limit.

Fortunately, before his patience ran out completely, Andrea scurried away. Only then did Gillian open his eyes.

A note was neatly placed on the bedside table.

<I’m sorry. Thank you.>

It was a brief note, but many emotions came through. The bewilderment felt upon waking up, much deliberation about what to say, guilt about being indebted, and even firm resolve that it would be better if they never met again.

“Unnecessarily polite.”

Gillian roughly tossed the note aside and lay back down on the bed.

Last night’s incident was definitely an accident for both Andrea and him. Still, since he was the one who hadn’t drunk much and was older, he should morally take responsibility, but if she was refusing that, it was truly a grateful thing.

***

“Where have you been?”

Jerome, who met him at the entrance, asked.

“I was worried….”

Jerome stopped speaking and looked at the wrinkled shirt Gillian was wearing under his coat, looking like he’d slept in it all crumpled up.

His lips were somehow swollen and there were suggestive marks below his ears. He seemed to have spent the night with quite a wild woman somewhere.

Jerome frowned.

“Don’t tell me you….”

Since he was clearly about to lecture him, Gillian just passed by Jerome. Of course, Jerome followed him.

“Gillian, I understand your heart is troubled from having to dress as a woman, but relieving stress this way isn’t a good method.”

But Gillian said indifferently as he walked.

“It was an accident.”

“Oh, really? You accidentally met some beautiful woman, accidentally got into bed, accidentally took off your clothes, and accidentally did this and that?”

Jerome was harshly sarcastic but described it in detail like he’d seen it. Before Gillian could answer, Jerome sighed and said,

“What if you get caught by your uncle while carelessly wandering around?”

Gillian and Jerome, who first met eight years ago, had actually grown up more like brothers than lord and guard. This was because the rural territory where Gillian and his mother had taken refuge after escaping Kirak belonged to Jerome’s father, Viscount Langley. The Langley family was one of Dratva’s secret connections that existed abroad.

Since viscounts were often administrators who had gone to govern distant territories as representatives of counts, then put down roots locally and became independent families, the Langley family based in the provinces had almost no acquaintances in the capital. So instead, they could hide in the capital with the setting that ‘Lady Priscilla Maia’ was a distant relative of the Langley family.

Jerome’s setting was also that he had come to the capital to expand his social connections in the capital’s society while serving as protector for his relative sister.

“Don’t worry.”

Gillian, who had entered the room, gripped Jerome’s shoulder.

“I was somewhere no one could see.”

“That’s not the problem….”

Since what happened with Andrea was a one-night accident anyway and wouldn’t happen again, Gillian changed the subject.

“Sorry. I’ll be careful. Anyway, I’m going to wash up.”

“No, let’s talk properly….”

“What, want to wash together?”

At his languid face that still seemed to carry traces of passion, Jerome fled the room in horror.

“Really, you…!”

Finally alone, Gillian hung his coat on the sofa’s backrest and sat down. The luxurious room’s scenery came into view.

The former Count Dratva, that is, Gillian’s father, had hidden large-scale trust assets abroad. This was common for noble families, but the questionable point was that the scale was larger than usual.

Had he perhaps anticipated and prepared for the situation where his brother would drive out his son?

‘Since Father won’t appear to tell me, I can only guess.’

But the problem was that Gillian also had no proper way to access the assets while avoiding his uncle’s gaze. Because his uncle also knew of the assets’ existence, so if those assets were suddenly disposed of, it would reveal that ‘someone qualified’ was alive.

The fact that he was alive must not be known, not yet.

The reason Gillian was enduring what was shameful from his perspective – cross-dressing – was all to deceive his uncle’s eyes. And when his uncle was off guard, he would strike where it hurt most.