Chapter 44
“Why are you calling this nonsense?”
Layla quickly grabbed her paper and hid it behind her back, afraid Rainier might crumple it. He smiled, but it was that fake smile again.
By now, she thought she could tell whenever he was faking it.
“It seems you have no problem having your first kiss with someone you don’t even love.”
Whenever he forced a smile, the corner of his mouth would only lift on one side. When he was just smiling normally, it wasn’t noticeable, but when he spoke, it made his expression look crooked—just like now.
“I’ve said it before, but nobles don’t marry for love. Rain, you know that, right?”
“No? I don’t.”
“How could you not, when you’re royalty?”
“I grew up outside without any proper upbringing, so I wouldn’t know.”
Layla was left speechless, her mouth half open. If she pressed further, she felt she might end up insulting his parents.
He looked at her expression and then asked,
“Do you really think kissing Viscount Bruce will be his first kiss?”
“…Probably?”
“You’re so naive.”
“I might not be his first either.”
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be this nervous.”
Layla closed her mouth, thinking he was far sharper than she had expected. The truth was, she had never kissed anyone—neither before she regressed nor in her previous life.
“What about you, Rain? Since you’re chaste, you’ve never kissed anyone, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then how would you know whether a first kiss is important or not? You just said you’ve never done it.”
He shut his mouth with a cold look, his eyes alone still holding a faint smile.
“I know better because I’ve never done it.”
She paused wiping away the moisture, holding the cloth in one hand as she stared at him. He lowered his eyes slightly and said,
“Don’t kiss Sonnet Bruce.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes, you’re right. Even so… I’d rather you didn’t.”
Layla didn’t want to answer him. Instead, she flipped the cloth over in her hand and approached him again. He lowered his back once more so she could reach him easily.
“You have a grudge against Sonnet too?”
“Yes.”
“So that’s why you’re telling me not to?”
At her question, his lips parted slightly, then closed again. He caught her hand and met her gaze.
When Layla looked into his vivid red eyes, it felt as though time had stopped for a moment.
Somewhere far away, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room seemed strangely in sync with the sound of his heartbeat.
“That’s not the reason.”
“Then what is?”
He sighed and said,
“Have your first—and last—kiss with someone you like.”
She stared at him in surprise that those words had come out of his mouth.
In the original story she knew, he had been a straightforward man who pursued Syber without hesitation. For him to say something so sentimental to her felt strange.
“And if such a person never appears? I’m not even in a situation where that’s possible.”
She spoke honestly.
What mattered most to her was survival—and if she survived, removing Syber, who would only be an obstacle.
Syber was already showing interest in Sonnet. By now, with the sun rising, those two would soon wake up together in her room.
That was why Rainier’s words felt strange to her. The Rainier she had read about in the novel, and the Rainier she had seen herself, had never cared about such things if it was for the greater cause.
In the original, he only changed after meeting Syber. There was no reason for him to have changed already. And yet… it felt like he had.
“Then let’s trade our firsts.”
“…What?”
“If your first kiss really means nothing to you, then give it to me. In exchange, I’ll grant you one thing you want.”
She could tell he wasn’t just joking.
“Rain… do you like me?”
“No.”
She had asked half-seriously, but he shook his head immediately.
“Then why are you trying to make this deal?”
“Because I don’t like Viscount Bruce.”
She couldn’t read his expression. If anything, he seemed colder than usual.
“All right, then.”
“Understood.”
He took her hand, lowered the cloth she was holding, and brushed his fingers along her jawline.
Layla didn’t really dislike the way he transferred the raindrops from his wet hand onto her cheek. His body was warm even after being caught in the rain, and the droplets felt warm too.
As that warmth seeped into her skin, his face drew so close that his breath tickled the fine hairs on her cheek.
Was this really going to be her first kiss? She squeezed her eyes shut.
To her, a first kiss wasn’t that important. It was just a kiss—something that could easily be forgotten.
But her life was more important.
If she kissed him now, she might be able to get his blood willingly.
So she tightly shut her eyes and waited for the soft press of lips… but even with his breath brushing her cheek, the kiss never came.
She cautiously opened her eyes—and saw not a confident face, but one that looked strangely pained, as if he were on the verge of tears.
Like someone truly torn.
She realized he was hesitating over this deal.
A kiss for my life!
With that thought, she rose on tiptoe.
“…!”
Rainier was the one startled this time.
“What was that just now?”
“A kiss.”
As soon as their lips touched and parted, Layla released her arms from around his neck.
“How is that a kiss?”
“It is. Our lips touched. Now, keep your promise.”
“…You’re a swindler.”
Even as he said it, Rainier’s face turned red. He looked so flustered that his frown was barely noticeable.
“Rain, was that really your first?”
“…Yes.”
“Then how do you know whether that was a kiss or not?”
“Who would call a quick touch of lips a kiss?”
Layla realized she’d miscalculated—he was sharper than she had hoped.
And it made sense. In the original story, even though he was a virgin, he had been incredibly skilled at everything. There was no way he wouldn’t know how kissing—or sleeping together—worked.
Tricking a conman wasn’t the best approach.
“Then let’s finish it properly.”
“…I don’t want to right now.”
“Why not?”
She noticed how red his ears had gotten and thought he seemed embarrassed.
Over a mere kiss.
“I need to prepare myself mentally.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking he looked even more nervous than she was.
“Will you do it once you’re ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then if we kiss, you’ll grant me any wish I ask for?”
“…Yes.”
She laughed again at the way he said it like an oath. If she could get his blood willingly, it would make cutting ties with Sonnet so much easier.
Sonnet, in truth, often drank before coming to see Layla.
It was to hide his nervousness. That day too, before coming to the Avierre estate, he had already finished a whole bottle of whiskey.
By the time they were playing a game together, he wasn’t just slightly drunk—he was very drunk.
He remembered playing the game with her… and lying on her bed in her room.
Up until the moment they were close enough to kiss.
And then he was dreaming.
“Do we really have to kiss at our engagement ceremony?”
Looking at Layla, nestled in his arms like a little rabbit, he couldn’t help but smile.
Her beautiful blue eyes were as clear and pure as the surface of a glacier—so much so that they could be mistaken for the color of the sky. And with her lovely pink hair…
“Yes, we really do.”
He didn’t need to practice, but he lied anyway. Just remembering that she had read the card he’d tucked into a bouquet of baby’s breath made his face burn.
Her lips stood out even more in his drunken haze, making his heart pound.
“Then should we do it now?”
At her provocative question, his eyes widened before he nodded.
He leaned in to kiss her.
But this was just a dream. When their lips met, there was no sensation at all.
“Damn it.”
Sonnet woke up at that moment. As soon as he opened his eyes, the scent of peach blossoms from Layla lingered on the bed.
He really liked that scent.
Layla had two fragrances—freesia from her perfume, and the sweet peach blossom scent that came when you were close enough to her neck, wrists, or ear. The latter was almost her natural scent.
Realizing the person resting on his arm had a similar fragrance, he instinctively pulled them closer in his half-asleep haze.
It felt oddly light… yet strangely wrong.
Just then, the door opened.
“Sonnet?”
His lover’s voice came from far away—not beside him. Sonnet’s eyes flew open.
“Layla?”
In that instant, he realized the person lying on his arm wasn’t Layla—it was Syber.
“Eek!”
The moment he saw Layla’s face, he shoved Syber away hard enough to nearly throw her to the floor. She rolled right off the bed.
“Layla, this isn’t what it looks like—”
Sonnet hurried toward her, flustered, and grabbed her hand.
