Even then, Dylan Berkshire was still watching her.

More specifically, she was referring to herself inside the carriage.

‘Why does he keep staring at me like that… Is there something on my face?’

She took out a mirror and examined her face, but aside from her cheeks being slightly flushed, there was nothing unusual.

He must have come to attend a social gathering, yet instead of going inside, he just kept staring at her. He was truly incomprehensible.

Clara sighed softly and leaned back comfortably against the seat. She felt more exhausted than if she’d been riding horses all morning.

⁕⁕⁕

Paradoxically, the discomfort of being watched had sparked her interest in him. Though it was more negative than positive, she couldn’t help being conscious of him every time.

Clara slowly guided her horse while gazing toward the terrace.

‘He’s not here today.’

For some reason, it bothered her. Perhaps because the gaze that had been fixed on her without fail for nearly two months had suddenly disappeared, or because she had encountered the riding ground’s owner elsewhere for the first time yesterday, or because his eyes had been particularly intense that day. She couldn’t tell.

“…I should be glad he’s gone.”

To clear her mind of distracting thoughts, Clara personally took Nyx back to the stable for the first time in a while.

Time flew by as she gave Nyx plenty of carrots for their gallop across the meadow and groomed him with a brush.

The warm light of sunset settled over the green fields spread out behind the stable. The swaying grass blades, the deep green fields, and the long shadows of trees were all tinged with the red glow of twilight.

A crimson warmth enveloped the horse stables and the entire riding ground. The sunlight filtering through made the horses’ brown coats shine red, and the dust particles dancing in the air created a scene straight out of a fairy tale. It was peaceful.

“Oh my, Miss, are you still here?”

Clara startled at the sudden voice behind her and turned around.

“This old man must have given you quite a fright.”

A white-haired elderly man chuckled awkwardly. He had worked at the Willingham Riding Grounds for nearly 20 years and had been kind to Clara since she was young.

“Ah, it’s fine. I wasn’t that startled.”

“Do you have something troubling you?”

Philip asked, looking at Clara’s clothes that had become dirty from grooming Nyx.

“I don’t have any particular concerns. Just…”

Clara smiled awkwardly, feeling as if her complicated feelings had been exposed. It was understandable that Philip found it strange for her to be at the riding grounds this late.

“Judging by the moisture in the air, it looks like we’re in for heavy rain tonight. You should head home soon.”

“Oh, it’s already closing time? I’m sorry for delaying your departure.”

“It’s quite alright. I can wait until you’re ready.”

Philip smiled kindly.

“Thank you, Philip. I’ll get ready and leave quickly.”

Clara hurriedly left the stable. She went to the bathroom inside the riding grounds and quickly washed her hands and face. She was in the process of changing out of her riding clothes and into a spare dress when—

Knock, knock. Someone was knocking on the changing room door.

“Just a moment!”

Clara hastily pulled up her dress and fastened the buttons. But the third button on her back wouldn’t close. Why did I bring this particular dress? While berating herself for her carelessness, Clara struggled, reaching behind her back.

“May I help you?”

It was a very deep, husky voice. And unfamiliar. Not Philip’s voice.

“W-who are you?”

When did he come in?

Just then, fingertips touched her skin. Clara felt her hair stand on end at the sudden contact. Unable to turn around, she hunched her shoulders defensively when the voice sounded behind her again.

“Dylan Berkshire.”

This time, her nerves were on edge for a different reason.

“I can do it myself.”

Clara tried to cover the area with the unfastened button with her hand.

But she was easily prevented.

“It’s done.”

Just as she was about to get angry at what he was doing, his touch withdrew. The spot where his hot fingertips had brushed against her felt strangely feverish.

Clara turned around, maintaining a composed expression. As usual, his excessively black hair covered his forehead and eyebrows, unlike his neat appearance yesterday. But this look was more familiar to Clara.

“Thank you.”

Clara said lightly before turning away. She pretended to gather her belongings, rummaging through the cabinet.

“I… have something I’d like to say.”

His low voice was filled with tension. She couldn’t predict what he was about to say. Clara quickly glanced at his face before shifting her gaze elsewhere.

“What is it?”

“I’d like an interview.”

“An interview?”

“Aren’t you looking for a fiancé?”

“That’s true, but an interview…”

It seemed odd—this wasn’t like hiring someone to work for her.

Just then, something her father had said flashed through her mind.

A fiancé advertisement.

Had her father actually posted that ridiculous advertisement? Clara slowly raised her gaze and was taken aback.

Dylan’s ash-gray eyes might have appeared cold at first glance due to his sharp gaze, but they were burning intensely. His gaze was even more powerful than before.

This man is completely serious.

“Are you saying you want to be engaged to me?”

“Yes.”

His confident, simple answer came immediately. But Clara had no confidence in becoming engaged to him.

“I appreciate your interest, but I don’t know you well enough yet.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking for an interview.”

Does he want to have a conversation? Clara tilted her head slightly.

“Now?”

“I’m fine with this very moment.”

“But the riding grounds are about to close…”

“I told Philip he could leave early.”

“Ah… I see.”

Clara deliberately dragged out her response. Philip had mentioned rain—perhaps it would be better to go home quickly and arrange for another time.

There was no need to explain that her father’s advertisement had nothing to do with her. That would only spread rumors about Count Brock being overly eager to marry off his daughter.

“Since you hate conventionality, I assume you wouldn’t want a conventional interview either.”

“Ah, yes, well… I suppose that’s true.”

One could hardly get to know a person through something as simple as an interview. Clara smiled ambiguously. But it seemed only polite to at least hear him out, considering his earnestness and his intensely serious expression.

Perhaps if they talked, she could also ask why he had been staring at her so much?

But just as she was wondering how an interview could be unconventional, she heard an unusual sound.

Click, tap—a crisp noise.

It sounded almost like… someone unbuckling a belt.

“What are you doing?”

Despite Clara’s bewildered voice, Dylan didn’t stop his movements.

The act of unbuckling his belt was strangely sensual. It was all due to the man’s overwhelming physique, the prominent veins on the back of his hands, and his ash-gray eyes that narrowed and curved.

His expressionless face bloomed into radiance with just one smile. His eyes, gleaming with amusement, seemed to emit an inner light.

“It’s an interview, isn’t it? To be selected, one should naturally show what they’re best at.”

The man was now attempting to unbutton his pants as well. So that’s what he’s confident in? This was the first time she’d encountered someone using such polite speech while doing something so outrageous.

Clara blinked rapidly and stammered, quite unlike her usual self.

“N-no… no matter what, you can’t just undress here! If strange rumors spread… Oh!”

“This is what I’m most confident in.”

Dylan proudly displayed his intimate area and smiled.

“Why not taste it first, then decide whether to keep it or not? It’s brand new, after all.”

His smile looked oddly satisfied.

Clara felt her thoughts come to a halt.

But her gaze naturally drifted to the impressively er*ect column. The fully engorged c*ck, with its bulging veins—the thick, reddish gl*ns contrasting with the darker shaft.

The enormous size sent a fresh shock through Clara’s chest.

“You’re not suggesting we… do that now, are you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

Dylan lowered his head as if trying to hide his reddened cheeks. She couldn’t understand why he seemed more embarrassed than she was.

Clara stared at Dylan with wide eyes. His eyes, gleaming with l*st, were er*tic.

“If you just keep staring like that…”

Dylan let out a low moan.

Clara unconsciously swallowed hard. An inexplicable thirst arose. Her stomach felt tingly, and her heart beat faster than usual.

It was different from mere surprise. She couldn’t explain it, but it was definitely different.

“It’s getting harder.”

His large hand suddenly reached out and grabbed her nape in one swift motion.

“Mmph!”

In the blink of an eye, their bodies collided and their lips met. A hot, soft tongue roughly invaded her mouth.

Clara froze completely at the foreign sensation. Not knowing what to do, she tried curling her tongue, but it was quickly captured.

The thought of biting his tongue disappeared when Dylan wrapped his tongue around hers and sucked it in. The wetly entangled tongues, the fresh scent tickling her nose, the bodies pressed tightly together…

Clara was helplessly swept away by Dylan’s lead. Eventually, the tingling at the root of her tongue brought her back to her senses.

“Mmh, s-stop!”

Clara pushed Dylan away forcefully and turned her head.

“What do you think you’re doing? From the very beginning… like this.”

Clara paused mid-sentence to catch her breath. How strange that she was more breathless than after galloping at full speed on horseback.

“It’s my first time too.”

“No, that’s not what I meant—so suddenly, like this…”

“Is it your first time too, Clara?”

“Well, yes… but that’s not the important thing right now, is it?”

“To me, it’s a very important and joyful fact.”

His smile, brimming with satisfaction, seemed almost proud.

Dylan smiled brightly once more.

“Because I’ll be taking your first time, Clara.”