BLRP 45

Chapter 45

It was a question that revealed his thoughtful and serious nature.

“Excuse me? What do you mean by that?”

Yet Fiorentia deliberately raised her voice, pretending not to understand why he would say such a thing.

Lyon, anxious and slightly frowning, pressed the matter with urgency—but even in his impatience, his consideration shone through, careful not to embarrass her or hurt her feelings.

“I asked because the wound on your arm and the rash on your neck that I saw earlier didn’t look ordinary.”

“…Ah.”

Fiorentia let out a flustered sound and awkwardly fumbled at her arm, as if to inspect it again. Her movements were clumsy, but every bit of embarrassment she displayed was intentional.

“This… this is just because I was careless…”

Lyon’s gaze clung to her every motion, relentless, as if he would miss nothing.

Trailing off in her speech, she finally bowed her head toward him and whispered,

“I’ve shown you something you shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Fiorentia continued to blame herself for everything, fidgeting nervously.

Her behavior only served to turn Lyon’s vague suspicions into certainty—though there was still no concrete proof.

“You have no reason to apologize to me,” Lyon said, his tone firmer than before. It seemed he had taken her words exactly as she intended—completely misunderstanding her in the best possible way.

Just as I thought.

Kind and upright, Lyon Theodore was the perfect insurance.

Fiorentia felt a deep relief; unlike with Theodore, this time everything was unfolding according to her plan.

She even added a quivering tone to her voice:

“Duke Theodore… could you please… pretend you didn’t see what happened today?”

If she grabbed his hand the moment he reached out, that would have been too obvious—amateurish.

Since her relationship with him might need to be long-term, Fiorentia wanted to leave a lasting impression on Lyon. But that required careful strategy.

Clingy, but not obviously clingy.

It sounded like a joke, but there was no better way to put it.

Outwardly, she appeared to refuse his help, yet in reality, she was subtly binding him to her mentally. That was precisely how one could be “clingy without seeming clingy.”

She would stick to Lyon’s thoughts until the moment it was necessary.

I’ll make sure he can’t help me right away. That way, I’ll stay on his mind.

Her plan today was to plant just a touch of guilt in the heart of kind-hearted Lyon.

It was a different method of taming him, distinct from what she had done with Theodore.

“Lady, enduring everything isn’t always the best course,” Lyon said, as if trying to persuade her further.

Fiorentia repeated her plea.

“Please… I beg you.”

A reluctant sigh escaped him. Fiorentia seized the moment, daringly taking hold of the end of his sleeve as if drawing courage from it. She knew the gesture would make her appear even more pitiable.

“Duke Theodore… I beg you.”

Her voice, trembling and close to breaking, carried a hint of moisture from the unshed tears.

But inside, her true thoughts were:

I just hope he doesn’t take this too literally and genuinely pretend not to see…

No, surely he’s not that oblivious.

With anxious eyes, she studied Lyon’s expression.

Then, as their gazes held, Lyon asked once more, his voice steady:

“One last question, Lady. Do you truly not need my help?”

“….”

Fiorentia didn’t answer immediately, sensing the weight of his emphasis on “last.” She hesitated, showing fear and indecision, glancing around restlessly to signal her unease.

After several gestures like this, Lyon finally spoke to reassure her:

“You may speak freely. There’s no one here but us.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Ah… then that’s a relief.”

Fiorentia relaxed her overly tense shoulders. She had deliberately allowed herself to rely on his words, knowing it would not harm her to appear dependent.

“You asked if I needed your help, Duke Theodore.”

“Yes, I did.”

Lyon nodded solemnly, his expression saying he was ready to help whenever she wished.

Of course, he has the means and the position to act with confidence.

Fiorentia couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. She cleared her throat softly.

“I don’t need help… at least, not right now.”

Her voice dropped even further, and Lyon, perceptive as ever, understood exactly what she meant.

A triumphant smile spread across her face as she continued, more subtly:

“It may be bold, but… could we leave tonight’s incident as a private matter? Perhaps later, if I can no longer manage…”

Lyon didn’t hesitate. His silvery hair fluttered as he nodded.

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much.”

At that moment, the clock tolled midnight.

Perfect timing to take my leave.

Lyon was not like Theodore; lingering too long could only raise suspicion. Fiorentia quickly bid him farewell.

“It’s already this late. I should probably return to my quarters.”

Having already given the impression that she might be scolded otherwise, she knew he wouldn’t insist.

“Thank you so much for everything tonight, and I apologize for disturbing your walk.”

She bowed frantically and turned as if fleeing a hunter, her movements hurried and anxious.

“Please wait, Lady.”

Just as she began to move away, Lyon caught her wrist.

“I’d like to offer a small favor.”

“Yes?”

“I won’t take much of your time.”

Though slightly forceful, Fiorentia allowed herself to be guided by Lyon’s determination.

Closing the distance in a single step, Lyon rolled up the sleeve covering her arm.

“…Duke!”

His fingers traced over the faint red mark.

“It’s fine. I won’t hurt you. Trust me.”

His gentle voice curled around her ear like warm silk.

Before she could ask what he was doing, Lyon carefully examined the wound.

“…!”

Kind and tender. The sensation made Fiorentia flinch instinctively.

Next, he took the shawl covering her shoulders and carefully pulled it aside. Her eyes widened in shock.

“W-what are you… doing?”

His poised demeanor contrasted sharply with the boldness of his actions, and even Fiorentia, usually calm, felt her composure crumble.

“I’m helping. If I leave it like this, you’ll suffer for days,” Lyon explained briefly.

He lifted his hand to her chin, guiding her to look at him.