INWY~35

Chapter 35

She didn’t need to see herself reflected in his eyes to know it—her face was burning red.

And she knew this wasn’t a good reaction. 

Overcome with shame that made her body tremble, Riena shoved the Grand Duke away.

She had expected him not to budge at all, but, to her surprise, he staggered back with almost no resistance. 

Raising a brow, Dante asked with a faintly amused voice,

“Did you just push me?”

“You—you were the one who pulled me in and grabbed me first! Just now too!”

Breath hitching, Riena shot back sharply at his shameless question. 

But Dante, arms folded, only tilted his head as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“No. I was saving you. What if you’d crashed into the window and shattered it? Were you planning on paying for the glass?”

“You really…!”

She almost shouted, but froze. 

She had accidentally called him by a far too familiar title.

Her eyes darted nervously before she looked back up at Dante.

“Good. Just call me that.”

Of course, Dante had caught it immediately. 

His lips curved slowly upward as he spoke in a low tone.

“It seems easier for you. I take it that’s what you usually call me in your head?”

“No, no! It was just… it just slipped out!”

Riena denied it desperately, but shame flooded her like a child whose secret had been exposed.

Dante gave a soft chuckle at her flustered state.

“Over a single title, you act like you’ve whispered your love to me.”

Riena scowled.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I was joking, Lady Bronte.”

“…It’s only a joke if the other person finds it funny. I don’t.”

“Really? That’s perfect then.”

His lips twisted faintly.

“You shouldn’t find me amusing. That’s not why I bother to seek you out and waste my time giving you punishment.”

“…So this is punishment too?”

“What else would it be?”

When his eyes returned to their usual cold sharpness, the turmoil twisting inside her finally began to calm.

Only then did Riena feel her composure returning. 

She stepped back toward open space and pressed her lips together.

…She was tired. 

She just wanted to go back. 

She opened her mouth to bid him farewell—

—but suddenly the Grand Duke turned and began to walk away.

It didn’t seem like he was dismissing her to go home, though.

A few steps later, he glanced back, giving her a look that told her to follow. 

Riena hesitated, then slowly fell into step behind him.

She had said she would accept her punishment, after all. 

But where was he taking her?

Clutching her pounding chest, she pressed forward. 

His slow stride soon halted.

Ssshh—

The familiar sound of waves. 

Riena turned her head, and the vast night sea filled her vision.

A few steps ahead, the Grand Duke stood still, staring silently at the waves breaking white against the sand.

…So he brought her here just to see the ocean? She eyed him with suspicion.

His fine golden hair fluttered in the sea breeze. 

Even in the warm night, his habit of dressing perfectly hadn’t changed; his fitted suit was crisp, not a wrinkle in sight.

Her gaze lingered on his face. 

Under the moonlight, his features seemed sharper than before—had he lost weight?

That straight brow, those defined lines. 

Yes, Dante had always been handsome in a refined, delicate way. 

Many noble ladies had fallen for that very face.

Riena studied him with quiet eyes. 

Surely, he had lived well enough. 

And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder how he had really lived all this time.

When had he heard of the carriage accident?

What had he thought back then?

When the search parties failed to find her.

When he finally held a funeral for the woman who had stood in her place as his wife.

In every one of those moments—what had been in his mind?

The more she thought, the tighter she pressed her lips, even biting them to stop herself from blurting out questions she mustn’t ask.

“You’re wearing that expression again.”

His voice startled her. 

She turned, and found Dante’s gaze piercing into her.

Blinking, she cautiously asked,

“…What kind of expression do you see?”

“You’d know best what you’re feeling.”

He gave a small squint, as if teasing.

“But if you want me to say… it’s the look of someone with too many thoughts, too many words unsaid, too many worries.”

“…”

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

“…Does Your Highness see everything so clearly?”

Her reply came from sheer defiance. 

What gave him the right to speak so confidently about her?

“I’m five years older than you. Think I can’t tell?”

Dante chuckled at her stubbornness.

“Of course I can. It’s written all over your face.”

“…Then surely Your Highness also knows that I’m uncomfortable being here.”

“That can’t be helped. It’s punishment, Riena.”

She sighed quietly. 

Taking a step closer, she asked,

“Did you come here to see the ocean?”

If that was his demand, it was better to comply quickly rather than let him keep her dangling.

But even then, Dante stayed silent, only looking down at her. 

When she tilted her head, he gave the same small gesture as before.

“Follow me.”

This time, she led, and he followed without protest. 

After a short while, she stopped and turned.

“The sea looks most beautiful from here.”

Her wavy brown hair whipped in the salty breeze as Dante followed her gaze.

Here, the wide ocean stretched unbroken, nothing to block the moonlit waves.

Black waters rippled, glittering silver under the moonlight. 

It was indeed far clearer than the view before.

Dante’s eyes swept the area. 

Yes—this was the same beach where she had sat days ago.

“How is it?”

At her soft question, Dante lowered his eyes to her. 

His lips curved faintly.

Riena was staring at him, eyes bright with a quiet hope that outshone even the moonlit sea.

“…Similar.”

“If you want to see the sea again, you can come here. Just follow the shoreline and—”

“I don’t particularly like the sea.”

The sudden reply cut her off. 

Riena blinked, stunned.

“…Then why did you come here?”

“Not to see it for myself. To show it to you.”

Dante, hands behind his back, tilted his head. 

Meeting her gaze, he gave a small laugh.

“You come here often, don’t you?”

The waves crashed loudly against the shore.

Riena’s lips parted, then closed again. 

She finally understood why her heart had been stirring so wildly.

It wasn’t just unease or lingering emotions.

It was something she had buried deep, something she thought she had thrown away long ago. 

And now, it was beginning to sprout again.

“…I don’t know why you waste your time watching this.”

“It isn’t wasting time. Watching the sea… helps me sort my thoughts. Calms my heart.”

“You must not have much else to do.”

Riena narrowed her eyes at him, irritated. 

He gazed steadily at the ocean, unreadable.

Then she bit her lip, and finally sank down onto the sand.

Dante frowned and told her not to—dirty, he said—but she ignored him.

She tucked her skirt neatly, curled up, and hugged her knees. 

Just as she always did when watching the sea.

As though the pose was second nature to her.

Dante let out a faint laugh, then slowly lowered himself to sit beside her.

“…You’re sitting too?”

“What, should I stand instead?”

His annoyed tone suggested he found it a bother—but once seated, he seemed in no rush to move. 

Quietly, he turned his eyes to the sea.

Ssshh—

The briny air filled her nose, mixed with faint herbal and lavender notes.

…Herbal and lavender?

Riena sniffed slightly. 

Where was that coming from?

After a moment, realization dawned. 

She turned her head slowly.

“What are you doing.”

“…”

Their eyes met—his expression slightly pinched, as if he had noticed her leaning closer without realizing it.

Flustered, Riena squeezed her eyes shut. Mortifying.

She straightened quickly, stammering,

“…I just wondered if you were wearing perfume.”

“Face the sea.”

Her lips trembled as she turned away, biting down hard to contain her shame.

Silence settled once more.

Until, at last, the chill of the sea breeze made her shiver.

“…!”

A jacket fell lightly across her shoulders. 

She looked down. 

Beige. 

His.

“…I’m fine.”

She lifted it away and held it back out.

“Keep it on. It’s part of your punishment.”

But Dante blocked her hand and draped it over her again.

He was doing it again. 

Forcing things.

Riena glared faintly.

“You call everything punishment, Your Highness.”

“My choice.”

He crossed his arms and lifted a brow.

“It’s cold now. Tell me we should go in.”

“What are you suddenly saying?”

“What worries you so much?”