Chapter 20
Why is he this drunk? This is driving me crazy…
Violette tried hard to clear her thoughts. Narcissa was simply drunk—that was all. This was nothing more than a minor incident. By tomorrow morning, he’d remember it and feel embarrassed, and she’d even be able to tease him about it for a while.
But contrary to those thoughts, her body reacted honestly. Her heart pounded so loudly it echoed in her ears, and the heat rising through her body made her feel suffocated with embarrassment.
His warmth pressed against her, the faint grassy scent mixed subtly with wine, and the quiet sound of his breathing against her forehead all stripped away her composure.
It felt as though every sharpened sense she had was focused solely on him. In the end, Violette squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm herself.
This is… just because of the alcohol. I drank quite a bit too, didn’t I? That’s why my heart’s racing and I feel hot. That has to be it.
She tried to picture sheep running freely across a meadow. Falling asleep as quickly as possible seemed like the only way to escape the situation.
One sheep, two sheep…
But she was so tense that she didn’t notice Narcissa’s arms around her slowly loosening. In the end, unable to free herself, Violette remained in his embrace and drifted off to sleep.
“Ah…”
The next morning, Narcissa was awakened by a splitting headache. The pain was so intense that he could barely open his eyes, and he slowly dragged a hand down his face. The familiar ceiling told him he was in his own room.
As he slowly tried to sit up, he realized that his other arm was trapped beneath something. Following the numb sensation, his eyes widened in shock.
“AAAAAAH!”
“Kyaaah!”
Startled awake by Narcissa’s ear-splitting scream, Violette jolted upright as well. Still half-asleep, she looked around in a daze.
“W-what happened?!”
“Y-you—why are you here?!”
Pale as a ghost, Narcissa hurriedly felt over his chest. When he confirmed that he was fully clothed, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
Still, the image of Violette sleeping soundly in his arms just moments ago lingered vividly, leaving him unable to hide his confusion.
“H-how did we end up sleeping together…?”
He asked in a flustered voice, desperately hoping Violette would explain this absurd situation.
But contrary to his expectations, she simply ruffled her hair indifferently and stood up.
“I don’t know. Guess I was drunk too. I’m going to wash up.”
With that, Violette left without hesitation. Left alone in the room, Narcissa blinked blankly.
No matter how hard he tried to recall it, last night was a blur.
A little later, Violette returned after bathing early in the morning, slowly drying her hair. But as the memory of what had just happened resurfaced, her face twisted.
“Damn it…”
Frustrated, she ran a hand down her face. Just the night before, she’d planned to tease him mercilessly the moment she woke up.
So you really love me? Was that our first night together?
She’d prepared dozens of lines meant to fluster him—but now that she’d actually faced him, the memory froze her body stiff.
She’d meant to laugh it off naturally while watching him squirm in embarrassment, but instead, she’d fled in a panic with a blank expression and stiff tone.
“Ahem.”
Standing in front of the door, Violette cleared her throat and composed herself. She just needed to act like nothing had happened—as calm and casual as always.
Last night was nothing more than a small drunken incident.
Fidgeting with the green vial in her hand, she steadied herself.
“Hey, Narcissa.”
She flung the door open with exaggerated confidence. Inside, Narcissa was still sitting on the bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands.
When he didn’t respond, Violette raised an eyebrow and cautiously approached him.
“You okay?”
“…I feel like I’m going to die.”
Only then did Narcissa slowly lift his head. Whether from the hangover or not, his already pale face looked corpse-like. Letting out a small sigh as if she’d expected this, Violette handed him the green vial she’d asked a maid to prepare the night before.
“You drank like a maniac—I knew this would happen. Drink this. It works pretty well for hangovers.”
“Thanks…”
With sluggish movements, Narcissa poured the medicine into his mouth. The excessively bitter taste instantly twisted his face.
“I mean, if you can’t even handle alcohol, why did you drink so much? Do you know how much trouble it was getting you to the room?”
Seizing the opportunity, Violette scolded him casually. Of course, it had been the attendants who carried him, but she smoothly took credit for it anyway.
“Ah… thanks. Why did I drink so much last night? I barely remember…”
Still pressing a hand to his throbbing temple, Narcissa frowned. He’d drunk so much that the memories were hazy. Having never been this drunk in his life, he found the whole situation ridiculous.
“You drank all the wine the Duke was giving me! I barely got to drink anything!”
“That’s because you were drunk. I was worried about you, and now you’re getting mad?”
Murmuring absentmindedly, Narcissa suddenly felt something was off and tilted his head.
He clearly remembered taking her wine glass because he thought she was drunk.
Then why was he on death’s door while Violette looked perfectly fine?
“You seem okay. Didn’t you drink much?”
“Of course not! Who gets drunk from that much?”
“You’re bad with alcohol.”
Violette ran a hand through her hair in frustration. Being told she was bad with alcohol was the ultimate insult to someone like her.
“What are you even saying? Narcissa, I drink well. I only get drunk if I drink too much—I’m not some weakling who collapses after a few bottles of wine like you.”
“Then what was that back then? You got completely wasted after just a few glasses. You said you barely remembered anything.”
“When was that? Yesterday was the first time I ever drank in front of you—”
“The day we first met.”
“Huh? The day we ate here? I didn’t drink that day.”
Violette felt something was wrong.
She’d first met Narcissa at the Kegreiner ducal estate—after their marriage talks had already begun. They had eaten together, yes, but no matter how she searched her memory, there hadn’t been a single glass of wine.
“What on earth—”
Seeing her still wearing a vacant expression, Narcissa’s face hardened. Only then did he realize they’d been talking about completely different events this entire time.
“…Ha. You don’t remember at all? No wonder everything you said felt off—demanding we break off the engagement out of nowhere and all that. So I’ve been putting on a one-man show this whole time?”
Clutching his forehead, he looked utterly exasperated. His muttering was filled with irritation, making the atmosphere uncomfortable. Unable to bear it, Violette shot back.
“What are you talking about? Let me in on it too!”
Instead of answering, Narcissa glared at her. His expression was the fiercest she’d ever seen, and startled, Violette slowly stepped back.
With a deep sigh, Narcissa collapsed weakly onto the sofa.
The sudden irritation only made his headache throb again. He wanted to ignore Violette, who was staring at him with desperate curiosity, but eventually he gave in and spoke.
“…We met once before that. Long before.”
“What? When? Where?”
Completely caught off guard, Violette’s eyes widened. Frowning slightly, Narcissa spoke quietly, recounting the day.
“In the back garden behind Goljinus. You were already drunk. You had a wine bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. The bottle was about half empty, so I thought you’d gotten that drunk off half a bottle of wine. That’s why I thought you were bad with alcohol.”
“Wait—hold on. You’re saying I was wandering around the garden alone, holding a bottle and an empty glass? That’s insane!”
A young noblewoman roaming the garden alone with a bottle and glass—it sounded horrifying even to herself. She had no idea why she’d been that drunk, but it wasn’t entirely impossible.
Whenever she visited Goljinus, she always drank.
Still unable to recall that day, Violette listened to his story with a bewildered expression.
