“Hello, pretty. Are you feeling a bit better?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a relief. I was worried.”

Like a cat worrying about a mouse.

As Serine lowered her gaze, she found herself meeting the eyes of an actual cat.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Valoid revealed the tiny creatures nestled in his arms.

“Do you prefer dogs or cats?”

It was a question she hadn’t expected.

There was a pale brown puppy, the color of milk with a drop of tea, and a tricolored cat with bright blue eyes.

“Where did these come from?”

“The estate is big enough. I thought we might raise a few. Pick whichever one you like.”

“…Me?”

“Why? Don’t you like animals?”

“I do. But it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re trying to give me one more reason to grow attached to this place.”

“That’s right. I’m trying to win you over.”

His eyes curved into a dazzling smile.

“So why not stop resisting and give in?”

“Wait, I—”

Without warning, he placed the small animals into her arms.

The puppy whimpered softly, pressing its nose into her chest, while the cat dug its claws into her fluttering clothes and began climbing up.

“Lucky little things.”

‘Was she imagining it?’

As the neckline was pulled down by the cat, it felt like his gaze followed it, lingering subtly.

Before she could even react, the cat suddenly slipped inside her clothes.

Startled, she pressed a hand against her stomach so it wouldn’t fall. The cat, barely holding itself in place, meowed insistently from inside her clothes, as if asking to be taken out.

“H-help me!”

If she let go, the cat would fall. Her other hand was occupied holding the puppy.

Rivi hurried forward to help, but Valoid stopped her.

“Rivi.”

“My apologies. I’ll step back.”

Flustered, Serine didn’t notice the exchange between them. So when a large hand suddenly slipped into the front of her clothes, she nearly stumbled in shock.

His thick wrist brushed against her soft chest as his hand moved inside, pressing and shifting as it went—like a snake slithering deeper. At the end of it, the cat, caught firmly, extended its claws as it was pulled out.

“Such a tiny thing, already causing trouble.”

Valoid set the cat down on the grass, then took the puppy from her arms and handed it to Rivi to carry away.

“You got scratched just now, didn’t you?”

“…What?”

“Didn’t the claws scratch you?”

Without waiting, Valoid tugged her neckline down.

She hadn’t worn a corset today—her pale chest was left completely exposed.

“As I thought. You were scratched. I haven’t even had the chance to—”

In broad daylight. In the middle of a garden. Standing there with her chest fully exposed.

The sheer absurdity of it left Serine’s mind blank.

Instinctively, she covered herself, glancing around the garden. It was secluded, with no one in sight—but someone could appear at any moment.

“Why hide it? You were born with something that pretty—you should show it off.”

He pushed her back against a garden pillar. The rough yet soft touch of ivy brushed against her back and the nape of her neck.

“Stop it! Not here—”

“When have we ever cared about where we were?”

She faltered, unable to find words. As she glared at him, her eyes reddening, Valoid clicked his tongue lightly, his gaze darkening.

“Let’s just say it’s one of those situations again. You might not realize it, but I’ve been holding back for quite a while.”

She wouldn’t know.

To Valoid, the month they’d spent apart hadn’t been short at all.

If Serine had been in good condition, he would have had her trembling in his carriage the entire two-day journey here, her breath unsteady in his arms.

He caught her by the waist as she tried to pull away, burying his face against her chest. The soft warmth of her skin, the faint scent—everything about it was intoxicating.

Then he noticed the faint red scratch marks left behind.

“Already marked by another.”

“Ah—!”

His hot tongue traced over the small wound, licking it slowly. As if that weren’t enough, he pressed his lips against it, biting down lightly.

It was ticklish, damp—and at the same time, stung.

Serine squirmed, trying to push him away.

More than anything, the fear that someone might see them—that her appearance would look indecent—made her panic.

“Please… not here. At least go inside…”

“Want me to finish inside? Don’t worry about that.”

His lips lowered further, closing around her chest. He bit and sucked at the sensitive peak until it throbbed, speaking through a crooked smile.

“You say you hate it, but every time you look at me, you react. Is getting worked up over someone you dislike your thing?”

Serine didn’t respond.

Her head tilted back as she gasped for breath, her anxious eyes darting around.

‘She didn’t hear me.’

Of course—he was pressed against her; she couldn’t see his lips.

Valoid let out a faint laugh.

“You really are troublesome.”

His hand slid over her skirt, tracing the curve of her hips before lifting the fabric. Smooth calves and pale thighs came into view. He lingered there, savoring the softness beneath his fingers, before tugging at her undergarments.

As his fingers slipped through, a damp warmth greeted him.

“You’re dripping, yet you still won’t admit it.”

Whether she sensed his mutter or not, Serine lowered her head. Her blue eyes—fragile as a kitten’s—were already brimming with tears.

“Ah—!”

The moment he began to move, a tear slipped free.

“That’s it. If you won’t say anything pretty, then cry instead.”

His fingers, slick now, moved within, stretching and tracing along the soft inner walls.

“Ah—!”

The sensation was vivid—too vivid—each movement catching and releasing in a way that made her shudder. It was as if he avoided the exact spot she needed, only to return to it at the last moment, pressing down with precision.

“Mm—!”

“Here? That shallow? Has it always been this easy?”

He turned to the other side, taking her in again, while the sunlight above spilled over them—so bright it illuminated every detail.

In the middle of the lush garden, surrounded by deep green, the situation felt unbearably exposed.

“Do you like the embarrassment? I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already overwhelmed.”

His thumb moved with deliberate care, teasing, building that unbearable tension little by little.

Her legs trembled, barely able to hold her up. She had no choice but to cling to him.

His body was solid—overwhelmingly so. Everywhere she touched felt unyielding, almost painful.

And yet, the faint pulse beneath his neck, the subtle warmth of his skin, the lingering scent around him—it sent a sudden, sharp sensation through her.

“Ah…!”

“See? Doesn’t matter where we are, you still fall apart.”

Valoid withdrew his hand, licking his fingers slowly.

For a moment, his expression shifted—subtle, but noticeable.

“What do you even eat?”

“Ah… wh-what…?”

“Fruit? Honey? Something like that?”

She couldn’t understand.

Her face flushed with heat, and she could only breathe unevenly as her thoughts slipped further out of reach.

Her eyes lifted, clinging to him, and dampness soaked her thighs. Even without that, the woman in front of him seemed to exude something that drew men in. Anyone who couldn’t sense it would be blind.

“Perfectly ripe.”

And yet, having to hold himself back, doing nothing but swallow it down—it was enough to drive him mad. He forced himself to ignore the heavy tension coiling inside him.

“I told you not to interrupt, Rivi.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.”

Unlike Valoid, Serine hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps or the soft clearing of a throat. It was only when she noticed Rivi that her eyes tightened in shock.

Her expression froze as she hurriedly pulled her dress up, striking Valoid’s hand to free the fabric he had been holding.

She had just slapped the hand of the legitimate heir of the Rigenberg royal family—the Grand Duke of Cardinel.

“…Hah.”

He let out a short, incredulous laugh.

Rivi, flustered, glanced between them nervously.

“What is it?”

“May I speak here?”

“I told you to speak.”

“…Then… the two sons of the Marquess Penrose have arrived. They say they won’t leave until they see either Lady Serine or Your Highness.”

Valoid wasn’t surprised.

It was something he had expected from the moment he took Serine from the monastery. If they hadn’t come, he would have mocked the Penrose family for having lost their edge.

“Serine.”

She had lowered her gaze, as if unwilling to intrude—just like the “good” daughter she had always been.

Valoid, almost kindly, spoke each word clearly for her.

“Your brothers have come to see you. What shall we do?”

“B-brothers…? Why? Because of me? Are they going to take me b-back to the monastery?”

To speak, she had to breathe—but each word came out tangled, her breath catching and breaking.

“W-what should I do…? What do I do…?”

Her trembling hand reached out, clutching desperately at Valoid’s sleeve.