Chapter 75

Clarette looked up at Lionel with wary eyes. Somehow, today she kept feeling as if she was playing along inside a scenario he had set up.

“It’s strange, I thought so. I’m only going to be painting near Lady Jasmine anyway, but suddenly you told me I had to learn to ride a horse.”

She looked at him reproachfully, but Lionel just smiled calmly.

“Well. If you really wanted, you could participate in the hunt too. If you’re not good at riding, you could try training a hunting dog.”

“A hunting dog? How could I ever do that…”

“Why not? You’re good at training, especially people.”

“What? Who have I trained?”

“Lionel de Valentin.”

At his playful reply, Clarette frowned as if caught off guard. She turned away from Lionel and muttered,

“I haven’t trained you, Your Grace. You’re not mine.”

“Do you want to make me yours?”

Clarette kept her lips tightly shut. Lionel gently whispered, as if unraveling the tangled threads of her thoughts,

“Clarette, are you prepared?”

“Prepared for what?”

“To be known to the world as my lover.”

At the unexpected words, Clarette’s lips parted slightly. But as she drew a breath and couldn’t bring herself to respond, Lionel continued quietly.

“‘Flower in a Frame’—I know you dislike that nickname. People don’t see you as a painter, just as a pretty woman. You must hate that.”

Clarette silently lowered her gaze. Lionel glanced at her clenched fists and spoke.

“But if you become known as my official lover, you’ll hear even worse things than now. You’ll be hurt more than I will. No matter how much I care for you, no matter how hard we try to live as we are in the mansion, people will keep spreading rumors about you. No matter what I do, I can’t stop it.”

At Lionel’s words, Clarette finally nodded. She thought he was about to draw a line.

That they couldn’t go any further, that they should be content with their current relationship.

But contrary to her expectation, Lionel kept talking only about his concern for her.

“If rumors spread and you’re attacked, won’t you end up hating and resenting me? Won’t you feel uncomfortable by my side and try to leave? When I think about that… I feel suffocated. I can’t do anything when you’re hurt, no matter how I feel.”

“Knowing that, did you still ask me to be your hunting tournament partner?”

Clarette deliberately replied sharply. She thought if Lionel would just push her away, this frustration would disappear. If he treated her as a bothersome mistress, she could give everything up cleanly.

“I’m sorry, Clarette.”

But Lionel simply apologized to Clarette.

“I didn’t think it through. After you refused, I kept thinking about it, and I realized I was wrong. I almost put you in danger. You did well to refuse my misguided suggestion.”

Faced with Lionel’s straightforward apology, Clarette was at a loss for words. She took a moment to steady herself and asked him,

“Your Grace, you do realize our positions aren’t equal, don’t you?”

Lionel didn’t answer immediately, waiting for Clarette to continue. So she spoke again.

“At first, you asked me to be your mistress. So I kept thinking of it that way. Since we’re not of the same status, that’s my limit.”

Trying to voice the worries that had lingered in her heart, her voice trembled. The riding dress, so unfitting for her station, felt like it was tightening around her chest. In the end, Clarette managed to confess her true feelings.

“No matter how close we get, I have no right to stop you from dating or marrying another woman. In the end… I’m no different from your mistress, Your Grace.”

The more she spoke, the more Clarette’s pride was wounded. She was almost dumbfounded by why she was struggling with such absurd worries.

Clarette did not want to be Duke Valentin’s mistress. What she wanted was something more equal…

“Clarette, for me…”

Lionel gently took Clarette’s trembling hand. With his large, warm hand, he stroked her hand and wrist as he spoke.

“I’ve hardly ever thought of myself as a proper noble. You talk about differences in status, but honestly, I don’t think you’ll ever be my mistress.”

“Why not?”

“For example, what if I did only things you dislike? Wouldn’t you throw me away without hesitation? Wouldn’t you?”

“…Of course I would.”

“There you go. I have no power over you at all. It’s almost sad.”

Murmuring wistfully, Lionel lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. He placed Clarette’s hand on his cheek and apologized once more.

“I’ve always felt sorry for teasing you when we first met. Back then, I was only thinking about sending you away.”

“I understand. You were carrying a debt of a million gold. I’d probably have done the same.”

In the end, Clarette accepted Lionel’s apology. Maybe she had misunderstood all along.

Perhaps Lionel never intended to make her his mistress.

“It’s a fact that I’m a noble and you’re a commoner. Unless I throw away my title or you become a noble, that won’t change. But…”

Lionel let go of Clarette’s hand and confessed.

“I like it best when you call me by name. Not by title, but by name.”

His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. With their bodies touching, Clarette looked up into Lionel’s gentle eyes.

“When you call me by name, I feel like I’m truly special.”

Clarette remembered the moment she called his name on the beach in Tivenny.

And even before that, the moment she’d wanted to call his name.

“Lionel.”

She wanted to be a little kinder. Clarette softly called his name again.

“Lionel… like this?”

“Yes, just like that.”

His hand circled her neck, and then his lips descended. In the shaded forest, with no one around, the two embraced and endlessly sought each other’s lips.

“Um, Your Grace, wait…”

Lionel held her waist so tightly that Clarette tapped his chest. But Lionel, as if punishing her, kissed her a bit rougher.

Moments later, as he parted his lips and she gasped for breath, Lionel smiled and whispered,

“Why call me ‘Your Grace’ again? You were doing so well with my name.”

“It still feels awkward. Besides, if I get used to it, I might slip and call you that in front of others…”

“Always worried about others.”

Lionel shook his head and looked down at Clarette. He gazed into her deep green eyes, darker in the shade.

“Clarette, you said you didn’t want to be my mistress.”

“Yes.”

“Then, how about becoming the only lover for each other?”

“If I’m the only one…”

As Clarette looked up at him, dazed, Lionel spoke even more firmly.

“Make me yours. Make me see only you, so I can’t even dream of anyone else.”

Lionel’s face, which had always worn a smile, was now endlessly serious. His voice was low, and his body leaned closer, as if he might topple her any moment.

“Make me yours, Clarette. Just as I want you to be mine.”

As Clarette was slowly pushed back, her back touched a tree. The moment she glanced behind in surprise, Lionel embraced her shoulders and gently laid her down on the grass.