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Chapter 82

"Um, Your Grace."

At her voice, Kayden lifted his head.

He seemed to recognize her only then, and spoke.

"Why are you in my room..."

Flinch.

Emilia met his eyes and paused.

He seemed sharper than usual.

"Ah, well... I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Not only that—his eyes seemed oddly dark. She hesitated, then pointed at his clothes.

"Um, you might want to take off that jacket before you sleep..."

He frowned, then answered a beat later.

"The jacket, you say."

"Yes."

When she nodded, he tossed it to the floor with an annoyed air.

"Done."

"Y-your cravat too."

At that, he let out a short sigh and loosened his cravat.

Though clearly irritated, he obediently followed her instructions.

"Now go back to your room."

"Alright."

She nodded quickly and was about to leave—but paused.

For some reason, she recalled the night he'd rushed back from the capital, worried about her after the Princess's tea party.

"Um, Your Grace."

Emilia called him cautiously and crouched before him.

"Did something happen?"

"Something..."

Kayden frowned as if thinking, then answered slowly.

"Yes... something did."

At his affirmative answer, Emilia's eyes widened. So something really had happened.

After a moment's thought, she spoke.

"If you'd like, I could listen."

At that, he fell silent, then spoke in a lower voice than usual.

"I hate people I've never met, and I find people I only know by face bothersome."

At that, Emilia's lips parted slightly.

...What on earth happened today?

For him to be so misanthropic.

No wonder the butler, who knew him well, was worried.

Then his voice came again from above.

"What should I do in times like this?"

"...Pardon?"

At his question—something he wouldn't normally ask—Emilia was flustered.

But he seemed to want an answer, waiting quietly.

So he met someone he dislikes?

After thinking it over, Emilia spoke.

"Everyone's different, but for me... I feel better when I'm with people I like."

Spending time with the people at the ducal residence—including Ivan—who brought her joy, she'd naturally stopped thinking about Cedric's words and actions.

But Kayden let out a short laugh.

"That's a good method, but..."

He looked down at her and said a beat later.

"Unfortunately, it's not one I can use."

"Is that so."

At his dismissive response, Emilia pouted slightly and lowered her head.

Just then, a displeased voice came from above.

"Don't sit on the floor."

"...?"

At the same time, he gently lifted her and set her on the bed.

Emilia blinked at the sudden move.

"I was told not to let my wife sit on the cold floor."

That reminded her of what he'd said before.

"I heard that a wife should never get even a speck of dirt on her feet."

Where on earth did he hear these things?

"Don't let your wife sit on the cold floor" was also a common saying among commoners—noble women would never sit on the floor anyway.

Looking at his face, he clearly seemed drunk.

"Why are you so conscientious even like this?"

Emilia laughed.

At that, Kayden tightened his jaw and let out a restrained voice.

"Don't laugh either."

"Why? Did whoever told you that say I shouldn't laugh? That sounds a bit odd."

At her playful tone, a low voice returned.

"No. It's not that."

He said, and placed his hands on either side of her, leaning in slowly.

His sudden closeness nearly pressed her flat.

"..."

Flustered, Emilia blinked.

"And I already told you—go back to your room."

Kayden murmured in warning.

Emilia's shoulders flinched.

"I-I will."

She nodded, dazed, and tried to slip out of bed—

"Your Grace..."

But his arms blocked her escape on both sides.

Just as she was about to tell him to move—

Thump.

"...Your Grace?"

Emilia called out in a dazed voice to the man who had collapsed on top of her.

But instead of an answer, only his low, steady breathing came.

She called him again, but he didn't move.

Staring at the ceiling for a moment, Emilia let out a hollow laugh.

I thought he told me to go back to my room?

What was she supposed to do with this contradictory man?

She let out a small sigh, then frowned.

H-heavy...

The unconscious man's body was incredibly heavy.

Why does he always end up on top of me when he loses consciousness...

Naturally, she recalled their first meeting.

Back then, too, he'd collapsed on her.

"This is a really bad habit of yours."

Emilia muttered in a sullen voice, looking at Kayden's sleeping face.

His brow was still furrowed.

Of course, his handsome face made it less of a flaw—but she thought he'd look better with it smoothed out.

Ah, this isn't the time.

Emilia averted her gaze from him.

She tried to push away his arms and shoulders to escape from under him.

He won't budge...

After a few more attempts, she gave up.

I managed to get out back then.

Come to think of it, her life had been in danger, so she must have summoned superhuman strength.

Resigned, Emilia decided to wake him.

"Your Grace? Your Grace?"

She called him a few more times, louder, and he showed a faint response.

He let out a low groan and shifted.

Seeing her chance, Emilia tried to slip away—

But as if dissatisfied with her squirming, he pulled her into his embrace.

"...!"

Her eyes went wide as a sharp sound escaped her lips.

"Wh-what are you doing!"

But Kayden only tightened his arm around her waist.

At his strength, Emilia involuntarily tensed.

H-how can a sleeping person be this strong!

The more she tried to push him away, the tighter he held her.

"..."

In the end, Emilia had no choice but to stay still in his arms.

Satisfied, Kayden eased his grip.

Emilia was speechless.

Treating me like some kind of hug pillow.

If she'd known, she'd have brought one of those dolls she'd made with Ivan and stuffed it in his arms.

Through his thin shirt, she could feel the solidity of his body.

Emilia squeezed her eyes shut and silently rebuked him.

And practically half-undressed like this...

Then she realized—she was the one who'd made him take off his clothes.

I should have just left him to catch a cold.

Eventually, she accepted that she wasn't getting out anytime soon.

She stayed still in his arms, careful not to provoke him further.

Silently praying he'd fall into a deeper sleep and loosen his grip.

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