“It’s too early for a walk. As soon as the sun goes down, it’ll get cold very quickly.”
“Ah, I hadn’t considered that.”
The butler said apologetically.
“In that case, perhaps you could take a short walk and then enjoy some warm tea in the drawing room?”
‘That’s even worse – now I have to sit and drink tea too!’
Before Martian could refuse, Huey replied first.
“I don’t mind either way. I’m not particularly sensitive to the cold.”
“Glad to hear it.”
The butler said cheerfully.
Huey looked at Martian and asked cautiously,
“Ah, is the Viscount perhaps not well adapted to cold weather?”
“The viscount was born and raised here. She doesn’t mind a bit of a chill.”
Martian sighed inwardly. She had planned to use the cold as an excuse to refuse – but now the butler had unwittingly taken that excuse away from her.
It wasn’t the first time he’d bragged about her, but the timing was particularly unfortunate today. Martian let out a small sigh.
“Fine, butler. Bring my coat.”
The Doan estate didn’t have a garden of its own. Since the surrounding land was mostly forest, walks usually meant wandering through the woods.
The grounds around the manor were planted with various experimental trees for future forest management.
The path suggested by the butler was one of these areas. Although the trees were varied and unusual, it wasn’t exactly a beautiful place to walk. As she led Huey along the path, Martian spoke plainly.
“There’s not much to see here. It hasn’t been laid out as a proper garden.”
Varied and unusual didn’t necessarily mean pretty. Huey simply said, “Is that so?” and continued to follow her.
‘Should I at least explain the trees?’
Martian considered it, but quickly dismissed the idea. The sooner they finished this awkward walk, the better. The end of the path wasn’t far away.
It ended at a cliff where white, weathered rocks were piled up like tombstones. By the time they reached it, the sunset had painted the sky with deep colours.
“The view’s not so bad, at least at the end.”
Martian commented as she turned around. Then Huey spoke.
“No matter how much I think about it…I can’t bring myself to let you go, Viscount.”
The words were sudden, but Martian understood immediately what he meant.
“Count, I’ve already made myself clear—I’m not interested in having this conversation. With your status, you’ll have no difficulty finding a willing partner. Please, look elsewhere.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Martian frowned.
Objectively, Huey Sebloard lacked nothing – looks, status, wealth, everything.
There must have been countless people willing to provide for him.
Then she remembered where she had first met him – in Dalbamga, the brothel district.
A noble who frequented such places probably never had a chance to find a real mate.
“It’s impossible that you haven’t. Unless your tastes were so peculiar that you couldn’t find anyone suitable.”
At her cold conclusion, Huey let out a soft sigh. His expression grew distant and hollow.The delicate beauty of his features seemed somehow fragile and tired.
“Unfortunately, I can always tell. No matter how convincing they are, I can see right through it when someone’s only trying to please me. It always shows, one way or another.”
“…”
“There is no shortage of people who claim to be my masters. But I could never really see them as such because they were always watching my moods, trying to guess what I wanted.”
He reached out and placed Martian’s hand on his cheek. The side of his face, red from the sunset, reminded her of the marks she had left on him the night they met.
Without thinking, Martian stroked his cheek. It felt smooth and cool against her hand. Huey leaned slightly into her touch and whispered, almost like a confession.
“You’re the only one, Viscount Doan…who doesn’t tense up around me.”
Martian froze, then quickly withdrew her hand. Huey’s eyes followed her retreating hand, his face full of regret.
The sight of someone so perfectly her type begging for her attention stirred her desires dangerously.
Martian forced herself to remain calm.
“I have no intention of being your master, nor do I believe I could dominate you. Please, let this go.”
She broke off the conversation sharply and started to walk past him. But Huey caught her wrist.
“It’s not that. It’s not that you can’t. It’s just that you’re avoiding it because it would be inconvenient. Viscount, I…”
He hesitated and looked at Martian. Rejecting someone with vague, softened words was a form of courtesy.
Martian had politely rejected him in a way that maintained that minimum of courtesy. But Huey had chosen to go for the jugular, grabbing her in a way that was nakedly inappropriate.
Her expression showed her irritation. He went on.
“If it’s because you’re angry that I’ve been rude…you can treat me the way you did before. I came here because I wanted to be treated like that way.”
His words were so shamelessly honest that Martian let out a short, breathless laugh.
At that moment, Huey leaned in even closer. His forehead pressed lightly against her shoulder.
He was so tall that he had to lean forward awkwardly. He nuzzled lightly against her shoulder. Martian understood immediately what he was trying to imitate. It was Ron’s loving gesture. A memory flashed through her mind – of how she had once taunted Huey, telling him he should learn from Ron.
Still – no matter what she had said, for a son of a ducal house to imitate Ron, who was little more than a personal servant…
It was absurd. She was too frightened to pull away. And Huey, sensing that he wasn’t being rejected, leaned in even closer.
He whispered softly.
“Anything is fine… just give me a chance.”
***
When Martian returned to the manor after her walk, the butler greeted her cheerfully. He looked very pleased just to see her with the Count.
“I’ve had some refreshments prepared in the drawing room. As the air outside must have been chilly, please warm yourselves with some tea.”
“I intend to go into the library with the Count for a private talk. I’ll call if I need anything. Until then, please don’t disturb me.”
For a moment, the butler’s expression changed subtly. From one of satisfaction to something closer to the look of a parent silently scolding a child for bringing home an unsavoury guest.
It was true that Martian’s previous behaviour had given the butler reason enough to have such suspicions – but still, this time she felt unfairly judged.
This time she wasn’t the one who had behaved inappropriately. Of course, it wasn’t something she could explain in detail.
Giving up on correcting the misunderstanding, Martian turned to Huey.
“Let’s go, Count.”
On the top floor of the Doan mansion were rooms and studies that even the servants rarely entered. Because of Martian’s preferences, the rooms there had been specially soundproofed.
It was the perfect place for a private conversation. As she climbed the stairs, Martian thought back to what had happened at Sevan Manor.
That’s where things had started to go wrong. No – she shouldn’t have gone to Dalbamga at all. If she had decided to hold back, she should have stuck to it.
She silently scolded her past self as she entered the study – and was startled for a moment. There was someone familiar in there.
“Ron, why are you here?”
“Ah, Viscount. I was tidying up the study.”
“How much tidying can one room need, every day…”
Lately, Ron had mostly been assigned tasks that kept him out of sight or out of doors. The reason was obvious.
When important guests visited, they wanted to keep Ron’s presence hidden.The butler’s approach was blunt, but not malicious. The duties assigned to Ron were tedious, but not cruel.So Martian found it difficult to criticise him openly.
“You’re done here. Go and wait outside.”
At her command, Ron returned the books he was holding to the shelves. As he turned to leave, he suddenly froze. Huey had entered the study.Ron recognised him immediately –
How could he not?
Ever since Martian had first met Huey, Ron had been painfully aware of how fragile and precarious his position really was. Still, he hadn’t thought they’d ever see each other again.
Martian had made it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with Huey. So it was hard to see that now – and it hurt.
The very fact that she had brought Huey into such a private space made the situation painfully clear.
Ron’s expression changed to one of devastation.
Martian sighed softly.
Ever since he realised he might be abandoned, Ron had become shy and easily rattled. It was endearing at times – but too much anxiety could be troublesome.
She moved to gently reassure him – but behind her, Huey grabbed her hand.
Startled, Martian turned – and saw Huey kneeling before her. He was holding her hand to his cheek and smiling softly. It was a dazzling, almost indecently beautiful smile.
“Master.”
Coming from a man so perfectly dressed and composed, the title sounded strangely provocative. As Martian froze, Ron swallowed a sob. The small sound drew her attention back.
Ron’s face was shattered.
Martian pulled her hand free and moved quickly towards him.
“Ron, it’s nothing. Really. Please wait outside for a while.”
“Vi-Viscount…”
His voice trembled terribly. He had been abandoned before – he had nowhere else to go.
He looked at her with tear-filled eyes, as if he might break down at any moment.
It stirred something deep and dangerous in her. Ron rarely cried, no matter how hard she treated him. Which made his tears all the more intoxicating now.
‘If I stripped him down and took him right here…’
The thought sent a rush of excitement through her. It had been so long since she had truly satisfied herself. But she endured it.
As much as she wanted to ruin him here and now – there was a guest.
Martian exhaled and turned to face Huey. He was still kneeling where she had left him. He looked forlorn – foolishly so. He frowned, dissatisfied.
It was an insolent attitude for a supposed ‘dog’. Though it would have been perversely satisfying to humiliate him further by turning her attention back to Ron, that would only have been a repeat of what had happened on the Sevan estate.
“Ron, go for now. Stop overthinking.”
Ron barely managed to stammer out an apology before hurrying out.
Martian had to steel herself to keep her sadistic urges in check. Now only the ‘dog’ was left, staring up at her resentfully. Martian walked past him and sat down on the sofa.
She wanted a cup of tea, but didn’t feel like calling the butler – or Ron.
Sighing, she looked at Huey and said,
“If you want to talk, come and sit down. Don’t be stubborn.”
Finally, Huey sat across from her, his face openly sulking. The pride bred into him by his noble birth was clashing violently with his instincts.
It irritated her a little – but it was also amusing. She preferred obedient dogs, but sometimes breaking the proud ones had its own appeal.