Chapter 29
“I told you it would be quick, didn’t I?”
The Baroness’s words proved true as the work moved swiftly. Within thirty minutes of the Ruper family sitting down at the table, freshly baked bread and rich clam soup were served.
“What kind of butter did you use? This bread smells amazing! Be careful after marriage so you don’t get sick, Yulia. You know what I mean, right?”
Despite her mother’s utterly rude behavior making her blush, Yulia’s stomach growled louder as she faced the steaming soup. Resisting food now was pointless, so she picked up her spoon—and the table continued to be filled with excessive amounts of food.
“Eat plenty, Miss.”
“Lucy, you?”
“I’ll wait and eat behind after seeing you full.”
Though there were only three of them, the table was loaded with four kinds of expertly grilled beef, steamed salmon, roasted trout, even lobster. There were so many side vegetables that Yulia couldn’t even count them.
Unlike the rest of the family who immediately grabbed knives, Henry looked on with a gentle smile as he watched Yulia care for Lucy first.
“Miss, the servants who came with you—including the coachmen—have their own food prepared separately, so please don’t worry and enjoy your meal.”
“…Does brother really eat nothing?”
Yulia had been sick of him. When she left the parlor earlier, she was sure she never wanted to see his face or hear his voice again. But seeing this lavish spread, she couldn’t help but think of Cayente.
Did he even have time to eat lunch properly, running around like this? There was no way he wasn’t hungry—why refuse to eat?
“He often does this. Always puts work above meals. But it’d be good if he ate a bit.”
Perhaps after tasting delicious food for the first time, Yulia had enough energy to reflect on what Henry had told her earlier.
“If I pack the food into small portions to make it easier to eat later, wouldn’t he eat some?”
“You want to bring it to him?”
Though she expected to be scolded about unnecessary fuss, her heart wouldn’t listen. Yulia, despite her poor situation, was the type to give a boiled potato to a homeless person she found lying in front of her home.
Even if she was hurt, ignoring Cayente—her soon-to-be husband—was difficult.
—Treating everyone like enemies comes from wounds he received back then.
Hearing this made her feel some sympathy.
—If you lovingly watch by his side, he will find his true self again.
Perhaps foolishly, that hope from Henry, which she had earlier denied, stirred inside her. How wonderful it would be if that were true.
—Besides, Miss, you are the Count’s first love.
If things could go that way, then she’d be the envy of those at the ball.
If Cayente could regain his old self, perhaps her role would be a little important. Even though he now treated her like an enemy and averted his gaze, at least once she had been special to him.
“Henry, please pack some food for me. I’ll take it to him.”
Deciding that at least a meal should be taken care of, Yulia stood up. Being the Countess wouldn’t just mean standing beside Cayente looking respectable. Even if he was a hateful husband, she had to stay by his side.
Though Cayente’s workload was heavy, his study was impeccably tidy.
“Sorry to take time from your busy schedule. Next time, I won’t just barge in dragging your mother by the skirt. But… shouldn’t you eat something?”
Yulia stood holding a tray with several plates of food before Cayente, who sat with his back to the window.
Just her standing there surprised him. He had heard she often skipped meals, and now here she was bringing food. The scolding he would surely hear wasn’t something that would leave no hurt.
Cayente noticed the faint bruise still on Yulia’s lower lip and stopped at her trembling shoulder.
She came knowing all this.
“I heard you often skip meals. Your workload increased too. What will happen if you collapse? Who’ll do your work? Isn’t that right?”
He could vividly see how many times she hesitated and stepped back on the way to the study. Her expression was resolute, but her hands gripping the tray were pale and strained. Clearly, she feared him.
Yet she awkwardly advised him to eat, which made Cayente chuckle in disbelief.
You… don’t hate me for being like this?
—What do you gain by tormenting me?
Only a few hours earlier, she had cried so painfully. Now she worried only that he might starve.
“Leave it.”
“I want to watch you take a bite.”
“What?”
“If you leave it, you’ll just throw it away.”
He thought his mother had pushed her, but it didn’t seem so. Yulia’s eyes, lined with gold like they were inlaid with seams, never lied. She was afraid, but also worried about him.
“Not enough?”
“Huh?”
Cayente sighed deeply, that bitter taste in his mouth returning, and slowly stood.
When he approached, Yulia turned to face him, stepping back. He snatched the tray from her hands and set it on the desk, then raised his hand slowly.
“Are you asking if the kiss that day wasn’t enough?”
His hand touched her lower lip, gently prying it open. Yulia flinched, trying to run toward the door. But Cayente didn’t let go. He hugged her waist tightly. Showing him her right cheek, she struggled toward the door.
“So you didn’t come to find me? Don’t tell me you didn’t expect this again, idiot.”
Perhaps the barrier she had built to stop crying in front of him broke. A tear trickled down her resentful eyes again. Thanks to the lightly touching lips, Cayente tasted salt.
This was the second kiss, if you counted, but maybe because the atmosphere was too quiet, Yulia’s lips felt clearer than before. Unable to hold the kiss longer, Cayente pulled away.
“Yulia, it’s time to grow up. You should’ve learned by now that your goodwill won’t always work on others.”
At that moment, a pure desire to see her troubled face mixed with the instinct to greedily taste those lips again surged inside him. Even now, as he brushed aside tangled strands of her hair.
His conflicting urges—one to choke her to never show such accusing eyes again, the other to surrender to his instincts and lose reason—waged a fierce battle within.
“Understand? We’re no longer children. We’ve grown into adults capable of doing this.”
“Brother… please.”
Cayente pretended to lift Yulia’s dress, but ultimately gave up both options.
“If you understand, go now.”
As he met Yulia’s increasingly watery eyes, the salty taste in his mouth turned into an unbearable bitterness. The deeper he thought of kissing her, the more he lost the ability to keep a straight face.
“Please… eat something.”
Yulia slipped from his embrace silently, darting to the door. Before disappearing, she left one word behind.
“Amazing.”
Even after such treatment, she still cared enough to prepare a meal. That was remarkable.
Cayente smiled hollowly, staring at the door Yulia had vanished through, suddenly thinking:
Even if the same happened to Yulia, she might have remained herself—but he had broken so much.
“Back already? You came early today.”
“Where did you go?”
“To the Count’s house. We went to check how to decorate the wedding venue.”
After dining at Cayente’s mansion and heading home, Yulia’s group ran into the Baron in the lobby.
“Yulia! What happened? Your face looks… and your eyes are so swollen!”
The Baron had secluded himself in his room since Yulia’s marriage decision. Now seeing the bruise on her lower lip, his face darkened.
“My cello string snapped.”
With a smile at her lips, Yulia lied. She still longed to cry and beg to cancel this marriage, but couldn’t bear to say anything to the Baron, whose expression darkened with guilt for ruining his daughter’s future.
“Your cello string?”
“Yes, it snapped and hit my lip, leaving a bruise.”
“Ah, I see. You still practice the cello, right?”
“Of course. It’s what I love.”
Although the Baron’s interference caused much of this, Yulia didn’t resent him. She knew how hard he had worked to help her live the life she wanted.
“Tiring, isn’t it…?”
Though he smiled, the Baron sensed Yulia’s pain. Maybe he didn’t know about Cayente, but the sudden marriage after not wanting one surely troubled her.
“I’m… fine.”
Not really, but no matter how much she struggled, there was no way out. If another way to raise the money had existed, they wouldn’t be here.
When Yulia saw a maid leaving the study with a slightly emptier plate, she briefly hoped the marriage might not be hopeless after all.
“Wait a bit, Yuri. Maybe you’ll find a chance to stop this marriage.”
The Baron said she might be able to avoid marrying Cayente.
