Chapter 124

With a soft whisper, Lionel’s lips descended onto Clarette.

Before she knew it, his large hand had moved over her clothes and began gently caressing her chest. Clarette inhaled sharply, accepting his touch.

“Clarette.”

After a long kiss, Lionel whispered,

“Do you really not want to do it tonight?”

He hugged Clarette tightly, her body weakened from the kiss. She quietly nodded in his arms.

“Yes, I really didn’t intend to. I kept thinking about how to send you out.”

“And now?”

“What should I do?”

Clarette asked back in a teasing, subtle voice.

“If I say no, will you stop?”

Her voice, low and seductive, made his body react instantly.

Lionel pulled Clarette closer, gazing at her intently. The more tightly he held her, the more clearly he felt her tension, so he smiled softly and said,

“Then, let’s do this.”

Lionel climbed atop Clarette again, setting the rules.

“I’ll do what I want, but you decide when to stop. If you say no, I’ll stop right away.”

“No…”

She tried to say she wouldn’t refuse, but before Clarette could finish even the first syllable, Lionel’s lips covered hers. Clarette tapped his back, breathless, but it was all in vain.

From the start, refusing wasn’t an option. Lionel really moved forward exactly as he wished.

Clarette could only accept his kiss, clutching at his clothes. Her clothes slipped off softly, guided by Lionel’s hands, and were pushed to the corner of the bed.

Lionel only moved aside once Clarette was completely n*ked. She glared at him, her face red.

“That’s unfair, you didn’t even let me speak…”

“There’s still a chance. Try saying no.”

Though he would block her with another kiss.

Clarette pursed her lips, knowing all too well, and Lionel laughed low, amused.

“Clarette, have you already given up?”

“Just… my stamina…”

She murmured, tugging at Lionel’s clothes.

“Please let me keep enough strength for tomorrow.”

His shirt, caught at his waist, was pulled off by her hands. As Clarette started to fiddle with his belt, Lionel finally nodded in satisfaction.

“All right, I won’t ask for several rounds. Just once, okay?”

“…Don’t make it last too long.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t be too rough.”

She kept adding requests, so Lionel gently replied with a kiss. Clarette didn’t need to ask for anything more, anxious as she was.

Lionel was the man who knew better than anyone in the world what she wanted.

As she desperately wished, Clarette greeted her first morning in Genoa in the arms of a gentle, loving lover.

* * *

On the second day of Saint Hubert’s festival week, Clarette wore a light gray dress. It wasn’t a planned choice, but the high collar was a great help to her.

‘Thank goodness. This will cover everything well.’

Last night, Lionel had been so tender and thorough in his caresses that red kiss marks were clearly left on her neck. Feeling a strange guilt, Clarette pinned the brass brooch to her new dress.

Meanwhile, Lionel, who had escorted her to the cathedral again today, seemed reluctant to leave.

“Your Grace, isn’t it almost lunchtime?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Shouldn’t you get going? All the nobles are gathering together, aren’t they?”

But Lionel kept sitting on the long bench behind Clarette. His leisurely attitude made her, not even part of the arrangement, feel anxious.

‘Why isn’t he leaving? He said he has an appointment with His Highness the Crown Prince.’

Just then, the cathedral’s noon bells rang loudly. Clarette jumped and turned to Lionel.

“Your Grace!”

“Oh, lunch must have started. Shall I go now?”

Lionel finally stood up slowly and prepared to leave. Clarette looked up at him in disbelief.

“Are you deliberately being late?”

“Yes.”

“Why…”

“I think it’s safe now. Please go back to the lodging early today, Clarette. Don’t stay here too late like yesterday.”

Lionel earnestly asked her and then left without hesitation. Clarette watched his retreating back and suddenly realized what was different from yesterday.

‘Ah, Earl Crowley can’t come here today. The nobles’ lunch has started.’

That was why Lionel had stayed by her side. He was worried Earl Crowley might approach her again while he was away, like yesterday.

Clarette felt grateful and sorry for Lionel’s concern. She thought she’d made him worry by showing her troubled mood last night.

‘But Lionel shouldn’t be late because of me. Others might think badly of him.’

Despite Clarette’s worries, Lionel had no intention of joining today’s lunch. He would go to the lunch venue, but his meeting with the Crown Prince was actually scheduled for tea time around 3 o’clock, not noon.

So Lionel planned to leave the cathedral, not take a carriage right away, and walk for a while.

He thought it would be perfect to arrive at the palace after lunch ended. That way, he could start his meeting with the Crown Prince naturally, without seeing Richard’s annoying face.

He could just walk to the riverside and catch a carriage there. As Lionel finished his calculations,

“Duke Valentin.”

Lionel heard a woman’s call as he was leaving through the cathedral’s main entrance and stopped. The unfamiliar voice belonged to a woman in a white nun’s habit from the Ensila Order.

She looked to be in her early twenties, but freckles across her nose made her seem even younger. When Lionel noticed the reddish hair peeking out from under her veil, the nun spoke.

“I’m sorry for coming suddenly. Could you spare a moment?”

“What’s the matter?”

“You know Jeremy Elderin, right? I’m his sister, Justina.”

“Oh.”

<Could you meet my sister in the capital?>

Lionel recalled Jeremy’s request and faced Justina. Now that he looked, she really did resemble Jeremy.

“Yes, I promised Jeremy. But I didn’t expect you to come to the cathedral. I thought you’d contact the hotel.”

“You seemed busy, so I couldn’t wait for the right time and hurried here. Actually, I’ve been watching you at the cathedral since yesterday.”

Justina truly seemed to have anticipated their meeting. But Lionel had no idea what this nun wanted from him.

“It doesn’t seem like a simple request.”

“No, it’s not something I can ask in just a few words. If it’s inconvenient now, when should I come back?”

As a noblewoman, Justina’s speech was dignified and courteous. Lionel imagined the lunch with all the nobles, then smiled at the nun before him.

“It’s not inconvenient. Where shall we talk?”

* * *

During the festival week, the cathedral served only white bread and a little jam.

Some artists with deep faith gladly accepted the holy food. But most went outside for meals and returned.

“Thank you.”

Clarette wasn’t particularly devout, but she wasn’t picky about food, so she quietly took the white bread.

“Aren’t you going out, Sister?”

The elderly nun handing out bread asked curiously. Clarette nodded lightly.

“Yes. I want to keep painting here.”

“I see. You shouldn’t sit too long, it’d be good to walk around a bit.”

“It’s fine. Painting is something I always do.”

“Hm… All right.”

Clarette answered politely, but the nun seemed dissatisfied. She stared at Clarette chewing her bread and asked,

“Do you have a veil?”

“Huh? Why?”

“I thought it’d be good to wear one. Your hair seems uncomfortable.”

“Well, it’s not a problem, so…”

Clarette, confused, suddenly realized the nun’s intent and straightened her face. The nun suggesting a veil was just like the priest who forced her to wear the brass brooch yesterday.

You don’t seem like you belong here, so behave as we demand.

Wear proof of the Order’s invitation, show your faith in Goddess Ensila through your clothing.

Clarette stared, her expression stiff. The nun cleared her throat and muttered,

“Hm, I hope your work goes quickly. You should enjoy the festival outside the cathedral, too.”

“…Thank you for your concern.”

Clarette replied coldly, and the nun snorted ambiguously and turned away. Clarette was dumbfounded but could only keep her mouth shut.

Even though she’d been invited by the Order, she was still an exception. The women artists inside the cathedral only participated as accompanists or choir members.

No woman wrote poetry, painted, or composed alone—except Clarette.

‘Well, it’s what I expected. Just focus on the painting.’

She couldn’t afford to ruin her work in such a tense atmosphere. As Clarette stubbornly chewed her plain bread and continued her sketch,

From somewhere nearby, a savory, oily smell wafted over, making her mouth water. She instinctively swallowed and turned around.

Right behind her stood a stranger she’d never seen before.

He held a picnic basket, fragrant with delicious smells, and was intently looking at her canvas.