“Wait…”

“…Your Highness?”

Startled, Bel struggled at first, but then froze when she recognized the familiar arm around her waist and voice in her ear.

Damian had tried to steady himself when he saw her, but lost his footing. His body leaned heavily against hers, as if no longer obeying him. He could barely hold on to her and prevent them both from falling.

The soft scent of flowers and the gentle warmth of her skin overwhelmed his senses, blurring his thoughts. A fierce and sudden heat surged through him as though fire had been poured directly into his veins.

“Wh-why are you…? Are you unwell?”

Flustered, Bel was unable to properly embrace him. She asked him awkwardly, then shrank slightly when a rush of hot breath brushed against her neck.

Only then did she realize how warm his body was.

After hesitating for a moment in case he took offence, she finally raised her hand and grasped his back.

Even through the thin fabric, the heat was startling.

“Sh-should I call a maid?”

Bel’s thoughts scattered.

It was late at night, so of course there was no one in the corridor. She needed to call a maid, but the arm around her wouldn’t let go.

“Your Highness, just a moment—ah.”

The sudden touch on her neck made her shudder.

His lips pressed firmly against her skin, as though determined to leave their mark. A moment later, his teeth grazed the delicate curve of her neck.

Caught within the breadth of his body, Bel raised the back of her hand to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the sound threatening to escape her throat. His mouth lingered there for far too long before finally pulling away.

Flustered, she tried to push him back, but her back was already pressed against the cold wall. Damian stood before her, blocking any path of escape.

His body pressed close to hers and his hands moved slowly yet insistently along her waist and back.

Her breathing became uneven.

Pinned between him and the wall, she felt overwhelmed and almost suffocated. A heat rose from deep within her, spreading upwards until her neck and cheeks burned crimson.

His breath brushed against her ear. She shrank away instinctively, but his lips pursued her relentlessly, trailing down the line of her jaw from her ear. When her veil obstructed his progress, he pulled back, his impatience plain to see.

“W-wait—!”

He tore the veil from her face roughly.

Bel’s eyes widened in shock.

Damian was reflected in her pale, shaken gaze, his expression darkening as his composure visibly unraveled.

Seeing her in such a state only seemed to drive him further.

Without warning, he kissed her.

The dimly lit corridor was filled with the sound of uneven, breathless gasps. Forgetting entirely that they were standing above the central hall, he pressed heated kisses along her neck, each one deliberate, as if he were determined to leave his mark.

“Ah…”

When he pulled her closer, she gasped involuntarily. Overwhelmed by the sensations rushing through her, she instinctively reached for him, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

That single touch seemed to shatter the last of his restraint.

Without warning, he lifted her into his arms and carried her swiftly into the nearest empty room.

He laid her down on the bed and bent over her once more, his mouth urgent and unrelenting.

Bel was too stunned to resist. Her fingers tightened around his collar, and her breathing became shallower beneath his intense gaze.

When their lips finally parted, the air between them trembled with unspoken tension.

“Ha… ha…”

Their mingled breaths filled the dimly lit room.

His lips moved downwards once more, making her stiffen with each touch. His hand moved lower, lingering with intent.

She trembled beneath his touch.

When he moved his hand further down, she reacted instinctively, but he steadied her at once.

“Y-Your Highness…”

A wave of heat flooded her senses. She shut her eyes as the sensation overwhelmed her.

He pulled her closer and held her tightly.

In that fevered haze, Bel clung to him as though she might otherwise shatter.

It was unbearably intense.

And, against her will, she felt loved.

***

Morning light fell across his closed eyelids.

Damian stirred, his brow furrowing as the brightness obscured his vision.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a room that felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

“…Ugh.”

He was struck by a splitting headache without warning.

Before he could gather his thoughts, he became aware of the slender body in his arms and froze.

He heard the faint rustle of sheets. Uneven breathing. The lingering warmth of skin against skin. He remembered her clinging to him, her voice breaking as she cried.

D*mn it!

Fragments of the previous night flooded back, contorting his handsome face sharply.

Pushing himself upright, he caught sight of Bel’s bare body beneath a single sheet and muttered a curse under his breath.

She lay with her face buried deep in the pillow, breathing evenly — she was still fast asleep. Her pale shoulders were exposed, and her bloodless skin was covered in dark marks. She looked less as though she had shared a bed with a man than as though she had been attacked by something wild.

His head throbbed violently.

He could not tell whether the pounding in his head was caused by the alcohol, what had happened between them, or a combination of the two.

He dragged a hand down his face and gathered his scattered clothes from the floor. As he pulled on the creased garments, he surveyed the stark, impersonal room.

A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

It was not his room. Nor was it hers.

He had taken her to a guest room.

There was no self-disgust left in him.

Buttoning his shirt with swift, practiced movements, he wiped every trace of last night’s passion from his face.

Then his eyes caught sight of something.

Her thigh, partially exposed beneath the sheet, bore the unmistakable imprint of his hand, marking her as his.

Lower down, her knees and shins were covered in older bruises. Some had scabbed over. Others had already faded into scars. Most appeared recent.

He stared at them in silence for a long moment.

Then, without saying anything, he turned and left the room.

***

Her throat felt scorched.

It was so swollen that she couldn’t even cough. When she tried to speak, the pain was so intense that she could not open her lips.

Bel’s eyelids trembled before slowly lifting.

As expected, she could see nothing, but the warmth filtering through the window told her that morning had arrived.

She did not move.

Her entire body ached, as though every muscle were crying out in protest. Despite the heat simmering beneath her skin, she shivered.

She felt feverish.

Realizing that she could not get up at once, she instinctively reached towards the empty space beside her.

Cold sheets met her hand.

Her expression faltered for a moment, then smoothed over as though she had anticipated nothing different.

She had known this would happen.

And yet she had not refused him.

He had overpowered her, yes, but she had not put up much of a fight.

After several long minutes, she forced herself to sit up straight.

A faint discomfort below made her frown slightly.

She needed to wash.

But was this even her room?

Her thoughts were clouded, and her memories were blurred at the edges. She could not remember clearly.

Letting out a quiet sigh, she reached out to steady herself. The moment her trembling feet touched the floor, a sharp, searing pain shot up her spine.

A soft groan escaped her lips as she collapsed back onto the bed.

Ultimately, she could manage no more than a single step before retreating back to the bed and pulling the blanket tightly around her.

She had no strength left to move.

Bathing could wait.

Everything could wait.

***

“Medicine…”

The noise around her stirred her drifting consciousness.

She tried to open her eyes, but they felt sealed shut.

Her body felt unbearably heavy, and she could feel a fever burning through her limbs. A weak groan escaped her lips as she struggled to endure the pain.

Distant voices pressed against her ears.

Faint. Blurred.

But unmistakably there.

“Why is her fever… What on earth—… Go and—…”

“She must regain consciousness—…”

Who was speaking?

The voices were so thoroughly intertwined that she could not tell them apart. One thing she knew for certain was that the person she wanted to hear from was not among them.

Her consciousness began to sink again.

After that, she repeatedly drifted in and out. At times, she thought she had been crying, but she did not know why.

It was not until two full days had passed since she fell ill that Bel finally regained her senses.