DDD 43

Chapter 43

In an instant, all tension melted away.

She lifted the head she had been lowering all this time.

Aryan’s silver hair, softly arranged, his deep, shining blue eyes that seemed unusually vibrant today, his elegant nose and even his red lips—all felt familiar.

At this moment, he was no longer the fully grown Rashad Aryan, and she was not the newly adult Clarissa of the Lisette family. Instead, it felt as if they had reverted to their younger selves—naïve Aryan and Clarissa, who once spoke of breaking their engagement without a care.

Clarissa grabbed Aryan’s hand, which looked more flustered than her own, firmly with both of hers.

Just like in the old days.

“It’s okay.”

“But…”

Clarissa shook her head gently and slowly began to move with the music again, as if she were taking her first tentative steps in dance.

Aryan followed her with smaller, careful movements than before. Seeing him still tense, Clarissa finally pressed her foot lightly on top of his as she whispered:

“It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Right?” she seemed to ask for his agreement, and though Aryan hesitated, he nodded.

If Clarissa said it was fine, then it was fine.

Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. Then, with a mischievous expression, she added:

“Thanks to you, I’m having even more fun.”

Clarissa placed both hands on Aryan’s shoulders. Then, suddenly, she leaped into the air.

Aryan hastily caught her by the waist.

Her chocolate-colored hair fluttered in front of his blue eyes.

Under the dazzling chandelier, she sparkled as she laughed, and Aryan drank in the sight, not wanting to let the moment go.

The time they had wished to last forever passed in the blink of an eye.

Clarissa landed safely with Aryan’s support and let out a breathless exclamation.

“Isn’t dancing supposed to be fun in itself?”

After that, Clarissa pulled Aryan into the dance three more times.

Even though it could have been tiring or boring, Aryan followed her every request without complaint.

The first to show signs of fatigue was actually Adria.

Perhaps from waiting too long, he looked very tired as he surveyed the room and approached the couple who had just finished their third dance.

“Aryan, it’s time to go.”

“Ah… yeah.”

Aryan nodded reluctantly, clearly reluctant to leave.

Clarissa decided she was satisfied with that for today.

“Wait!”

Or at least, she intended to.

While glancing around with Adria, Clarissa caught the two men who were about to leave without farewells.

“What?”

Adria frowned, unable to hide his irritation.

Clarissa’s lips curved slyly.

And moving her red lips, she asked Adria:

“Did you forget something, Your Highness?”

“No, I didn’t.”

All Adria had to remember today was the little white dog with the blue tail-wagging eyes. The dog stood obediently by him, whining as if to warn others not to touch its owner.

But Clarissa’s intentions seemed entirely different.

“You must have.”

“No. I don’t have time to waste on you.”

Even as Adria’s voice returned coldly, Clarissa’s eyes shone with steadfast determination. Then, she boldly extended both hands.

“What is this?”

Adria looked down at Clarissa’s clean palms and naturally came to a conclusion.

After reaching his own deduction, he said with a scowl:

“I’m not planning to dance with you.”

“That’s my refusal, then.”

Clarissa’s face twisted into a challenging expression, matching his.

What exactly was she trying to do?

Swallowing his cursing, Adria pressed his lips together.

Clarissa, apparently pleased with his silence, soon smiled softly and confidently said:

“A gift!”

“What?”

“You’re not going to say you don’t have one, right?”

“I think you’re asking the wrong person.”

Aryan’s eyes widened at the sudden turn of conversation.

Adria’s words were perfectly reasonable, and Clarissa cheerfully agreed.

“It’s fine. Aryan will be giving me something even better.”

Still, unlike most people, Adria frowned at her logic.

Regardless of his feelings, Clarissa looked at Aryan with eyes that seemed to drip honey and softly said:

“Do I really have to give it?”

Seeing her shy, maidenly demeanor, Adria clicked his tongue.

He wanted to see just how many layers he could peel off that cheeky face if given the chance.

No matter how shocked Adria was, Aryan, ever the gullible friend, just nodded in surprise.

“Are you sure there really isn’t one?”

“There isn’t.”

As the meaningless conversation dragged on, Adria began to sense a strange déjà vu in Clarissa’s words.

Clarissa often talked a lot, but she rarely indulged in such unproductive chatter.

“I’m disappointed, Your Highness.”

“Thanks for that.”

Hearing Clarissa voice her disappointment openly, Adria offered only a brief acknowledgment.

At that moment, Clarissa’s smiling face instantly turned cold.

Her shoulders lifted slightly, and her gaze pierced through the empty space.

But it lasted only a moment, so neither Adria nor Aryan gave it much thought.

As expected, Clarissa soon smiled brightly again.

“Just kidding. Now, go.”

Adria grumbled about whether he should leave just because she told him to, but seeing her smile was enough, and he quickly turned away from her.

Aryan’s eyes remained on Clarissa’s face until she became a mere speck, but she kept smiling and waving until then.

Clarissa was left alone.

The young ladies newly entering society and their families were busy exchanging trivial chatter with one another.

But Clarissa’s gaze was fixed not on their lips but on the empty balcony below.

“Anyone who wants to play with me had better be prepared,” she whispered quietly, staring at the truly empty space.

Every movement of her red lips seemed to echo with the roar of a beast.

Sweeping her bangs roughly aside, Clarissa once again warned the unseen presence.

“…If you fall too easily, it won’t be fun. Right?”

After the debutante ball ended, the real social season began.

Yet, for days, the Lisette household remained as calm as ever, as if nothing had changed.

For Clarissa, the daughter of the Lisette family—whose father was a national minister and rumored to have amassed more wealth than anyone in history, and whose mother was a socialite of note—this peacefulness was practically impossible.

Even Eclea, who would normally have made a fuss, surprisingly did nothing.

Thanks to this unexpected calm, Clarissa, who had suffered through the debutante ball, seemed determined not to leave her bed, as if compensating for the hardships of the past days.

“Ma-ri.”

“Yes, Lady Clarissa!”

It had been a long time since she had called for her maid.

Mari responded skillfully despite the sudden summons.

Clarissa stared at her with half-lidded, tired eyes before suddenly speaking strangely:

“You seem free these days, don’t you?”

‘You seem free, Lady Clarissa,’ Mari thought, but swallowed the words.

Though Clarissa had grown less temperamental with age, she was still difficult to manage when in a bad mood.

In other words, recently, Clarissa had been extremely, extremely difficult.

Mari was so tense that she forgot to answer, preparing instead for Clarissa’s next move.

“Hmm?”

As expected, no response came, and Clarissa raised her eyebrows, demanding an answer.