Chapter 07…
Dinner was immensely satisfying.
Not only did a parade of delicacies—luxuries she could never usually even touch—fill the table, but the fragrant wine lifted her spirits even higher.
Across from her, Tesion, who had been silently eating, spoke up with a tone of concern.
“My lady, that wine has quite a high alcohol content. Please don’t overdo it.”
“Overdo it? To see such a fine wine and not drink it—that would be an insult to the wine itself! A grave discourtesy!”
Cynthia was already thoroughly drunk.
It wasn’t surprising. In this body, she had only just come of age.
How could she possibly resist the sweet thrill of alcohol she was tasting for the first time?
“Another glass, please!”
“My lady, that’s enough. Even grown men would have trouble drinking that much.”
“Oh, come now, Your Grace! I told you, I’m fi—”
Cynthia didn’t finish her sentence.
Before she even realized it, she had fallen asleep, her forehead landing squarely on the table.
There was a loud crash as something shattered.
Thud!
Cynthia frowned as a stabbing headache pulsed through her temples.
It was a vicious hangover.
“Ugh…”
Groaning, she slowly lifted her heavy eyelids. Blinking blankly, she found herself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in an unfamiliar room.
“…Huh?”
Startled, Cynthia shot upright.
Where am I now?
She quickly turned her head, scanning the room in a panic.
In the mirror of the vanity opposite the bed, she caught sight of herself—utterly disheveled.
“Oh, no…”
Anyone could tell from her face that she had been completely drunk and had a rough night.
With a groan, Cynthia ran both hands through her already tangled hair, making it even worse.
“I can’t remember anything about last night’s dinner…”
She must have gotten far too excited over her first real drink and lost all self-control.
Just then, the door opened slightly, and a neatly dressed maid entered.
Startled to see Cynthia awake, the young maid froze for a moment before cautiously approaching, one careful step at a time.
“L–Lady Elizabeth, are you awake?”
“Ah, yes… I, um, must’ve been really drunk last night, huh?”
“A little, yes… How are you feeling? Would you like me to bring you something light to eat?”
“No, that’s all right.”
Cynthia waved a hand weakly without lifting her head.
“More importantly… I didn’t do anything inappropriate to His Grace, did I? I can’t remember a thing…”
“Ah…”
The maid trailed off, unsure how much she was allowed to say.
Cynthia, anxiety rising, pressed her.
“It’s fine. Just tell me everything honestly.”
“W–well then… first, my lady, you got very drunk and started singing a rather… sorrowful song.”
A sorrowful song?
Cynthia smiled awkwardly to herself and waited for the next part.
“His Grace wanted to escort you straight back to the Bailey Duchy, but you threw a bit of a tantrum and said you didn’t want to leave…”
Ah… so I was a complete mess…
“In the end, the servants brought you here to this room, but… you didn’t exactly go to sleep quietly.”
“Didn’t sleep quietly? What do you mean…?”
“While we weren’t looking, you… pulled His Grace onto the bed!”
“W–WHAT?”
Cynthia screamed. The words rang in her ears, but her brain refused to process them.
Surely, even drunk, she wouldn’t have done something like that?
“I came in later to help you wash and change, but the lights were out, and on the bed there was this large… shape. Oh, it was so embarrassing!”
The maid covered her burning cheeks with both hands and shut her eyes tight as she blurted it out.
Cynthia asked in disbelief:
“I—I did what? With His Grace?”
“Well, you two are officially engaged, so it wasn’t… that improper!”
The maid looked more flustered than Cynthia did.
With a hollow stare, Cynthia gazed off into space, feeling like absolute trash.
With the maid’s help, Cynthia managed to look somewhat presentable again. Still dazed, she sat at the table, waiting for Grand Duke Tesion Lumanov to arrive.
Soon, the steady tapping of a cane echoed from down the marble hallway.
Cynthia straightened up immediately and fixed her clothes.
A moment later, the Grand Duke himself entered, every inch as composed and immaculate as ever.
“G–good morning, Your Grace…”
She rose awkwardly and bowed.
Tesion smiled politely and approached the chair opposite hers.
“I trust you slept comfortably, my lady?”
“Yes… thanks to you…”
Cynthia answered softly.
She shut her eyes tightly, then opened her mouth as if steeling herself.
“Your Grace… I believe I may have done something improper last night, and I wish to apologize.”
“Improper?”
“Yes! It seems there was… some kind of unfortunate incident between us. I might have pulled you onto the bed, and—”
“Ah, that. Think nothing of it.”
Tesion cut her off before she could finish.
His calm response left her blinking in confusion.
“S–sorry?”
“I tripped over the edge of the mattress and fell onto the bed, that’s all. Nothing untoward happened, so you needn’t worry.”
“Oh, thank goodness… Then I didn’t do anything else, right?”
At her innocent question, Tesion recalled the previous night.
Tap.
“Your Grace…”
Cynthia, head bowed, had grabbed his wrist.
Was she about to be sick?
Concerned that she might vomit, Tesion turned aside, ready to help.
“Are you unwell, my lady?”
“No… I just wanted to tell you something…”
From behind them, the servants who had helped her in looked uneasy.
Tesion raised his free hand and motioned for them to leave. Understanding the gesture, they quietly exited one by one.
“What was it you wished to say?”
Once the room was quiet, Tesion asked again, tapping his cane lightly as he sought a chair.
At that moment, Cynthia tightened her grip—not just on his wrist, but also on his other arm—and suddenly pulled him toward her with unexpected force.
Caught off guard, Tesion lost his balance and toppled onto the bed, his knee catching the edge of the mattress.
“Ah—!”
He quickly braced himself, hands on either side of her, preventing their bodies from colliding.
But the result was still an awkwardly compromising position—her lying beneath him, his face very close to hers.
He could feel her breath—sweet with the faint scent of wine—so close it made his every nerve stand on end.
“I apologize. Allow me to get up—”
“You’re beautiful.”
That sudden remark froze him in place.
“…What did you say?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“…You think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course! No question about it!”
Cynthia nodded eagerly, placing both hands on his cheeks and staring straight into his face with unfocused, glassy eyes.
“Your smooth forehead! Your perfectly shaped brows! Your long, delicate lashes! Your high nose! Your soft lips! Everything—everything about you is beautiful!”
“…Is that so.”
It was the first time anyone had ever said such a thing to him. He’d never known what he looked like—never cared to.
Tesion slowly lifted a hand toward her face. What did this woman, who so easily called him beautiful, look like?
But his hand stopped short, hovering near her hair without daring to touch her.
“And you, my lady—what about you?”
“Elizabeth? Elizabeth Bailey?”
“Yes. What do you look like? Other nobles say that Lady Elizabeth Bailey is a beauty herself.”
