Chapter 10
“…I’m sorry for showing up without notice.”
The strong but trembling grip on Agnès’s wrist slowly weakened. Dylan must have sensed her fear.
Agnès tried to hide the emotions that had already been exposed, forcing herself to speak quickly and lightly.
“No, it’s fine. I was actually starting to worry since you hadn’t come. I thought maybe you found a way to manage it at the palace… but if not, then of course, you should’ve come to me as promised.”
“As promised,” Dylan repeated softly, as if testing the words.
Agnès wasn’t sure what to make of his tone, but she carefully slipped the shawl off her shoulders.
Underneath, her simple nightgown and pale skin gleamed faintly under the moonlight.
When she raised her bare arm toward him, Dylan took it gently, almost reverently — as though accepting a sacred offering.
What followed didn’t take long.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Dylan lowered his lips to her skin.
Cold breath brushed her flesh before sharp fangs pierced it.
“Ah—!”
The pain of being bitten was sharp — something she could never truly get used to, no matter how many times it happened.
When Agnès instinctively tried to pull away, Dylan’s arm wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against him — like a hunter clutching its prey.
Her golden eyes trembled as she looked at the man often called a cursed monster.
Dylan buried his face against her neck, drinking deeply from the wound as her blood flowed.
Each time his throat moved, Agnès felt the world tilt a little. Her head grew light — and though it made no sense, a strange warmth welled in her chest.
It wasn’t like that frantic night after the imperial ball — there was no rush, no struggle. This time, he was calm, careful. And somehow, that made it more intimate.
After a while, Dylan lifted his head.
His breath against her skin was warmer now.
He took a white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to her arm. Thankfully, only a small spot of red stained the fabric.
“Are you all right?”
That one gentle question brought her fully back to herself. Agnès managed a small, awkward smile.
“I’m fine. I’ve done this before, remember? What about you, Your Grace? If you were struggling that much… you could’ve called for me. I would’ve come to the palace.”
“I didn’t want to. Her Majesty the Emperor can be… difficult to deal with.”
He sounded much steadier now. His complexion was returning to normal; the shadows under his eyes were fading, and even his breathing was calmer.
His eyes, once glowing red, were now clear and blue again — like a calm sky after a storm.
But at the mention of the Emperor, his brows furrowed, and his tone sharpened slightly.
That surprised Agnès. Gaveline had described the Emperor and Dylan as having a close, affectionate relationship.
She wanted to ask — but it didn’t seem her place to pry, not when they weren’t truly husband and wife. So she changed the subject.
“Then next time, just send for me, please. You looked awful when you came in. You said three days is best, right? Then keep it to that schedule.”
“That’s unnecessary. I’ve rarely had such luxury.”
“But now you have me,” she said softly.
“If I can keep control of myself, that will be enough. I’ll come every five days.”
His tone left no room for argument.
Agnès frowned slightly. It didn’t make sense — she knew he couldn’t always control it that well.
“That’s too dangerous. What if something goes wrong and you miss a day or two? At least every four days would be—”
“I’m not careless.”
That struck a nerve. He wasn’t careless? Then what about that night at the ball?
“Then why were you like that at the banquet? You were already far past your limit!”
“You don’t need to know,” he said flatly.
The words drew a clear line between them.
Agnès’s mouth opened, then closed again. She wasn’t trying to meddle or play the mistress of the house — she knew her place.
But giving him her blood was her responsibility. Wasn’t it right for her to worry?
Frustration welled up in her chest, and she said nothing. Dylan sighed quietly.
He brushed his disheveled bangs back, revealing his sharp, pale forehead.
“I’m investigating the Overhan family. There’s no need to worry — I’ll keep my promise.”
He thought her persistence came from distrust.
Agnès’s heart sank even more. Her voice came out smaller this time.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you… I just wondered if there was anything I could tell you about Overhan.”
She only wanted to help. But his response was cool and impersonal.
“Do you have any useful information?”
It wasn’t rude, but there was no expectation behind the words either.
Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Of course he already had spies in the Overhan estate.
Compared to them, what could she possibly offer?
All she’d ever done was manage servants, host guests, and keep the house running smoothly.
“…You’re right. You probably know everything already.”
“If something comes to mind later, tell me,” he said — still in that same distant tone.
Agnès let out a small sigh, but she forced a smile instead.
Then Dylan’s voice softened a little.
“You’ll have to meet the Emperor soon. When the time comes, I’ll let you know — so be prepared.”
“All right. I’ll be ready.”
She answered without hesitation, but he still looked slightly worried — as if doubting she could handle it.
He didn’t voice that thought, though.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Good night, Your Grace.”
Once he left, Agnès finally exhaled.
Even so, her chest felt tight.
What more can I do?
She had come here to help — to be of some use — but all she could do was stand aside, watching him retreat into silence.
Why did that make her feel so helpless?
***
The next day, Dylan was gone again — out somewhere, according to the servants.
It struck her as odd. In every story she’d read, vampires feared sunlight — but Dylan seemed perfectly fine with it.
Maybe the stories were just that: stories.
When a maid informed her that lunch was ready, Agnès decided to eat in the dining hall instead of her room.
Staying shut in all day felt stifling, and she wanted to get to know the household staff better.
Walking down the hall, she spotted familiar faces — maids she’d brought from the Everchen estate — and her heart lightened.
One of them, Lizzy, had been with her since childhood. Cheerful and talkative, she always had some juicy bit of gossip to share.
Lizzy was now working in the kitchen and seemed delighted with her position.
“My lady, today’s meal includes premium beef! The master himself ordered it just for you. He must care for you so much.”
Beef?
Agnès almost laughed out loud.
After feeding on her blood last night, Dylan had apparently ordered her a feast of rich meat — to help her recover, no doubt.
His actions and his cold words didn’t match at all.
Agnès couldn’t help it — a helpless, amused smile tugged at her lips.
