Chapter 83
Following his lead, the two of them stepped into the mansion.
As they walked, Edith glanced around her surroundings.
Thin drapes hung along the walls, the ceiling rose in a high arch, and wall lamps glowed softly like pearls.
Even the air brushing against her skin felt completely different from that of any imperial mansion.
There was… a sense of wind flowing freely through the building.
‘We’ve been walking for quite a while… this place goes pretty deep in.’
They climbed a few stairs and walked through a long corridor, but their guide still showed no sign of stopping.
Then suddenly—
Edith felt something unfamiliar.
More precisely, a scent.
A faint, sweet fragrance that lightly tickled her nose.
“…Denok.”
When she whispered his name quietly, Denok immediately met her eyes.
Edith leaned close and whispered,
“Do you smell something?”
He furrowed his brows slightly and sniffed the air, but all he sensed was the cool, still atmosphere. Denok shook his head.
“Not really. I don’t smell anything unusual…”
At that moment—
The servant walking ahead suddenly stopped.
They had reached the very end of the long corridor.
Both of them frowned in confusion.
All they could see before them was a white wall draped with fluttering fabric.
But when the servant pressed his hand against the wall hidden behind the curtain, the section they had thought was solid clicked and opened.
The servant turned around.
Then, fixing his eyes only on Edith, he spoke.
“From here on, only Her Grace, the Grand Duchess of Luciano, may enter.”
Though his bow was polite, his tone left no room for negotiation.
Denok’s brow twitched.
“What do you mean by that?”
“It is by order of His Highness the Prince. His Grace the Duke will be guided to a separate reception room to rest.”
His courteous smile betrayed no weakness at all.
“Ha.”
Denok let out a dry, humorless laugh.
How sly. Hiding in this maze of halls just to separate him from his wife.
Like a predator showing its fangs before a hunt, a heavy, oppressive aura began to fill the space.
“How impressive of His Highness,” Denok said coldly. “To invite a married couple, only to grant audience to the wife alone…”
As his sharp gaze fell on the servant, magical energy began to surge in response to his will.
The servant staggered slightly, as if struggling to breathe under the weight of it.
But even as his face flushed red, he forced out his words.
“…Her Grace the Grand Duchess… will understand the reason, he said.”
His tone carried unshakable conviction.
Edith blinked.
“The reason…”
Her eyes darkened. The faint sweetness she had sensed earlier still lingered at her nose.
A scent that even Denok hadn’t noticed.
And now—an invitation meant only for her.
The meaning was obvious.
Edith reached out to stop Denok.
“I’ll go alone.”
Denok’s eyes narrowed at that.
He couldn’t hide his displeasure.
“…Edith.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We made a promise, didn’t we?”
“…I think I know why he called only me. It won’t be dangerous.”
Edith shook her head gently, her eyes pleading with him to trust her.
He pressed his lips together tightly, unable to find a reply.
Then he met her gaze once more—his eyes full of worry and unease.
But the quiet determination in her eyes made him relent.
He took a step back.
“If you sense any danger, call for me immediately. I’ll be right here.”
Edith gave him a small, reassuring smile.
“Yes. I will. Thank you.”
Moments later, Edith stepped through the hidden doorway in the wall.
Denok crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside it, making no move to leave.
A servant had offered him a place to rest, but—what reason did he have to trust them?
He closed his eyes, drawing his magic inward, heightening his senses—ready to run to her the instant she called.
When Edith entered the narrow space behind the wall, her face was tense.
It wasn’t a room—not at first.
It felt like a short, dark passageway, almost like the inside of a closet.
At the far end of that darkness, light seeped through the edge of a heavy curtain.
She pushed it aside and stepped through—
—and was immediately blinded by a flood of brilliant white light.
She squinted, then drew in a breath.
It wasn’t a room at all.
Underfoot was solid stone, and above her—an open sky.
A transparent, dome-shaped glass roof let in sunlight that shimmered like rippling water.
Though it was inside a building, it felt warm and bright, like the outdoors.
The place was like a secret greenhouse.
Lush plants filled the air with a fresh, vibrant scent, and in the center stood a white, classical-style fountain.
Water streamed gently down, its sound ringing pure and clear.
And there—stood Siren.
“I knew you’d notice,” he said.
At the familiar voice, Edith turned her head.
Prince Siren sat on the fountain’s edge, one sleeve rolled up, his arm dipped in the water.
The clear current rippled softly around his fingers, spreading outward in smooth circles.
And drifting upon that ripple—was the same faint, sweet scent.
“…That fragrance. What did you do?”
He rose slowly, shaking droplets from his wet hand.
Water sparkled as it fell to the floor.
Siren smiled.
“It’s my pheromone.”
“…What?”
When their eyes met, a mischievous, almost teasing smile crossed his lips.
“Long ago, before merfolk gained human legs, they used this to lure their prey—or charm the opposite sex.”
…Of course.
Edith swallowed hard.
“So, you also have merfolk blood.”
“As you can see.”
He shrugged casually, far more relaxed than the first time they met.
Then, without warning, he stepped closer—forcing Edith to instinctively cover her nose with her hand.
He chuckled softly.
“Relax. I’ve suppressed it for now. The scent’s weaker, isn’t it?”
It was—noticeably.
When she hesitated, Siren offered his hand.
“May I escort you, Lady Luciano?”
In the end, Edith let him lead her toward a tea table set deeper in the garden.
After they sat, he poured tea with practiced ease.
She didn’t touch her cup. Instead, she asked quietly,
“How did you recognize me?”
He blinked in surprise.
“Oh, you really don’t know, do you?”
“…Know what?”
She frowned slightly. He lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug.
“I can sense your scent too.”
“…My scent?”
A thought struck her—and her eyes widened.
No way…
Siren kindly elaborated,
“The same pheromone as mine.”
“…!”
Her cheeks flushed crimson.
“How do I stop it?” she demanded.
If she could, she’d shut it off right this second.
But Siren only smiled faintly, refusing to answer easily.
Was he always this infuriating? Her patience snapped, and she abandoned formality.
“Tell me. Or I’m leaving right now.”
He burst into laughter.
“How firm you are.”
Sunlight glinted off his silver hair as he tilted his head back, his sky-blue eyes momentarily hidden by his lashes.
Then, with renewed interest gleaming in his gaze, he rose to his feet.
“This way.”
