ITTRAETML 26

~Chapter 26~

“Sigh…”

Larvihan stared at the closed door and let out a deep breath. That was close.

Lovelace had pouted her lips and begged for a kiss. If he hadn’t given in, she might have demanded something even more dangerous.

A drunk Lovelace was far too cute—enough to shake his entire self-control.

In the end, he broke his own rule of never touching a drunk woman and pressed his lips against hers.

Dangerous.

Turning from her door, Larvihan muttered, “Damn it.”

Even walking was uncomfortable. So much so that he forgot one key fact: despite that long, heated kiss, his power had not returned.

“Ow, my head…”

Lovelace sat up, holding her forehead. Judith quickly handed her a cool glass of water.

“Got any honey?”

“Honey? Why, my lady?”

“Because honey water is the best cure after drinking. Remember that, Judith.”

Sharing her life wisdom, Lovelace flopped back down. Every breath reeked of alcohol.

Judith was quick—soon she returned with honey water. Lovelace gulped it down.

“How much did I drink yesterday?”

Judith frowned, prying Lovelace’s hand away from her tangled hair, then gently massaged her scalp with both hands.

“This helps with headaches. But if it’s too bad, should I call the family physician?”

“The physician?”

“Yes. I found the contract yesterday. Luckily, the term lasts another two years. He’d come right away.”

“No need.”

Lovelace refused. She didn’t want their first meeting with the family doctor to be because of a hangover. Judith’s massage cleared her head anyway.

“So… how much did I drink? And what about Larvihan?”

“About twenty bottles of wine. But you only tasted each one. The rest, Lord Larvihan drank.”

“Really? Then bring him some honey water too. He must be half-dead.”

But before Judith could move, a voice cut in.

“No need. I’m right here.”

It was Larvihan, his tone smooth and completely free of hangover.

“Should I bring you honey water, my lord?” Judith asked.

“Honey? I hate sweets.”

“It’s good for hangovers. Please drink.”

“Hangover? I don’t have one.”

“Don’t act tough. After that much, it’s impossible not to.”

“Twenty bottles of wine? That’s barely alcohol. What I can’t understand is how Rey collapsed after just twenty glasses.”

Lovelace wilted. She’d lost even in drinking.

Larvihan gestured for Judith to leave, then sat on the edge of Lovelace’s bed.

“What do you remember?”

He brushed her messy hair back behind her ear.

“Just… that Bourgogne wine was bitter, and people call it the taste of night.”

“So you blacked out long before the end.”

She seemed to remember nothing about their kiss. Larvihan felt unfair—he had lost sleep over it, while she forgot entirely.

“You don’t recall asking me to teach you what men like?”

“No, but it sounds like something I’d say. Do you have time now?”

“Why?”

“Since I don’t remember last night’s lesson, I want to learn again. The Bell Boys’n Club is tonight, after all.”

She pressed her temples, groaning.

“For me, anytime is fine.”

“Then let’s start now.”

Before she finished, Larvihan yanked her into his arms. She gasped, lashes trembling.

“T-this isn’t a lesson…”

“We did it yesterday too. Just a light review.”

“Yesterday too?!”

“Since my student has such poor memory, I’ll have to review thoroughly myself. Close your eyes, Rey.”

His breath came closer. Lovelace pushed her hands between them, arching back until they toppled onto the bed together.

“Wait—this is a misunderstanding. You got me wrong, Larvihan.”

As she struggled, his hand brushed her neck.

“What are you doing?!”

“Review.”

Their eyes locked. She thought it was a joke—but his gaze was deadly serious. Her stomach tightened, her shoulders froze.

He stroked her shoulder, and she flinched with every touch.

“Stop it.”

“Don’t you want to know what we did yesterday? How far we went?”

Of course she wanted to know. She was dying of curiosity. But fear kept her silent.

He studied her closely. Every emotion flickered openly in her eyes. Innocent as she was, she couldn’t hide a thing.

He wondered—if he kissed her now, what face would she make?

But then Larvihan pulled back.

“A student with no learning ability doesn’t interest me. I’d rather you skip the Bell Boys’n Club, but since you won’t listen, I’ll go with you.”

With that, he left the room.

Lovelace touched her lips, where his gaze had lingered before leaving.

“That was… almost a kiss, wasn’t it? Does that mean… I kissed him yesterday? My first kiss? While drunk?!”

She smacked her head with both fists. Worse than shock—another regret struck.

Her first kiss, with such a handsome man—
and she couldn’t remember a thing.

Burying her face in the pillow, she screamed.

She spent the day so busy she could hardly recall the details. Partly to forget Larvihan, partly because of endless work.

Just as she suspected, Viscount Nerk had tampered with the accounts—quietly transferring farmland meant for tax to his own name. He couldn’t have done it alone. Clearly, the Harmelda family had more enemies than she thought.

“All done, my lady.”

Judith clasped a necklace around her neck. Tonight was the Bell Boys’n Club gathering, and Lovelace was dressed to kill.

Her gown of deep navy shimmered with pearls like a starry night. Around her neck, she wore an exquisite diamond necklace—worth more than most city mansions.

The dress itself was plain, with no ribbons or frills, but its fitted waist and bare shoulders gave her a mature beauty. Her clear, glowing skin only enhanced it.

She had spent half the congratulatory sum Arwen had gifted her, but thought: War requires proper armor. I’ll sell it later anyway.

She touched the sparkling necklace.

Meanwhile, Larvihan was already at the club’s salon. His hair was dyed, his suit unusually light, glasses hiding his sharp features—enough disguise to avoid recognition.

He only did it because of Judith’s words:

“The Countess wants to handle this herself. If you appear, they’ll all shrink back. She won’t learn who’s truly against her.”

Still, he couldn’t let Lovelace walk into a den of men alone. Judith was loyal, but only a maid—her protection had limits.

So Larvihan bribed his way in, determined to step in if needed.

Inside, music thundered, women in gaudy outfits mingling among the men.

“So this is a men’s club? Half of them are women,” he muttered, frowning.

“Imagine—the Harmelda title, handed to that sly little brat. Viscount Nerk, all your effort for nothing!”

He froze.

“Harsh words. Don’t belittle Nerk’s work. He prepared quite a feast—only for some stray girl to steal it all. No wonder he’s furious.”

Larvihan’s temple twitched. His hand sought his gloves.

But then the door opened. Cold air swept in, mixing with the salon’s heat. All eyes turned.

It was Lovelace.

Larvihan’s hand froze, his breath caught. Coming here before her had been a mistake.

The moment he saw her pale, bare shoulders, regret stabbed him hard.