Episode 118

Clang.

Yvonne swung the door open without hesitation.

She didn’t know everything about Yurian, but she knew the version of him that he had shown her.

The man who had been willing to change for her.

And because she believed that much of him was genuine, she wanted to clear up any misunderstandings.

She acted as if she was unfazed, but in truth, her hands were trembling.

She found it strange.

She didn’t think she had such strong feelings for Yurian—so why did hearing those words make her hands shake?

“Yvonne?”

“Yurian.”

“Oh my.”

Inside the drawing room, there were two people.

Yurian, looking slightly flustered.

And a woman.

A woman who, by all accounts, fit the exact type Yvonne admired.

Yvonne had never been particularly athletic herself, so she preferred men with solid, muscular builds.

Broad shoulders, a strong chest, a chiseled face—everything she was drawn to.

And the woman before her had those same traits.

Tall stature, square shoulders, powerful limbs, and long, muscular legs.

For some reason, Yvonne instinctively felt small in comparison.

The woman standing beside Yurian seemed… overwhelming.

“Oh dear, Your Grace. Who might this be?”

Yurian took a step toward Yvonne, looking as if he wanted to explain—

But the woman wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

Yvonne felt her stomach drop.

For a split second, the look on Yurian’s face—frozen, rigid—made her feel like she had witnessed something she shouldn’t have.

“Let go.”

“Oh, come now, Your Grace.”

Yurian, visibly uncomfortable, tried to pry off the arms wrapped around his waist.

But before he could, Yvonne took a step back.

Panic flickered across his face.

If he snapped that arm like a twig right now, the offender would never dare touch him again.

But Yvonne was watching.

She despised violence. She flinched at displays of brutality.

She had only just begun to feel comfortable around him.

If she saw him break someone’s arm or snap a neck in cold blood, would that comfort shatter?

Would she retreat from him again?

“Yvonne, this is—”

“You seem busy.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Sorry for interrupting.”

“Yvonne, wait!”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

She turned on her heel, intending to leave.

“Let go!”

“Your Grace, why are you so heartless? I might just cry.”

Yvonne stopped at the sound of their voices.

She glanced over her shoulder—

And then quickly stepped out of the room.

Before she disappeared, she noticed something.

The woman’s hair.

A deep chestnut brown.

A color that suited Yurian well.

Click.

The door shut behind her.

Yurian, realizing that she had truly left, felt something snap inside him.

He activated his ability without meaning to, his crimson eyes flashing dangerously as he stared at the closed door.

He hadn’t even blinked before his hand shot up, ready to rip away the muscular arms still wrapped around his waist.

But before he could—

The person behind him abruptly let go.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

His voice was cold.

Seething.

He had deliberately left his uniform with Yvonne before leaving her room, just to make sure she wouldn’t panic when she woke up alone.

If not for all this unnecessary nonsense, he would have been there when she opened her eyes.

And none of this would have happened.

“I-I’m essential! Without me, you won’t have a proper fiancée!”

“You’re not the only mimic in the world.”

Yurian turned around.

And without hesitation, his hand shot out, wrapping around the woman’s throat.

The woman—no, the imposter—gasped, their feet leaving the floor as he lifted them effortlessly.

They clawed at his arm, struggling.

“Ack!”

“Five seconds. Five.”

“T-try me! Test me!”

“Four. Three.”

“That woman—she likes you!”

Their words froze him.

The imposter’s feet hit the carpet again as Yurian suddenly let go.

And in an instant, the illusion faded—

The woman was gone.

And in her place stood a man.

A solidly built soldier in a dress.

“Explain.”

“She ran away, didn’t she?”

“Because of you.”

Yurian’s fingers twitched.

He debated killing the man right then and there and dragging his corpse to Yvonne as proof.

No.

No violence.

Yvonne would hate it.

She would be afraid.

He had promised to change for her.

If there was a misunderstanding, he could clear it up with words.

And if that meant allowing his subordinate a few last words before death—

Then so be it.

He exhaled slowly, forcing down his rage, and looked the man dead in the eyes.

“Explain yourself carefully.”

“I’m saying, Your Grace—she ran away because she has feelings for you.”

“What…?”

“Seriously, Your Grace. You’re so hopeless when it comes to these things.”

The man sighed dramatically, shaking his head.

Yurian gritted his teeth, barely holding back his fury.

Before him stood Melvin.

A low-tier mimic.

A man who could alter his entire appearance—down to his very gender.

And right now, he was standing there in a frilly dress, looking completely unbothered.

“Look, Your Grace.”

Melvin raised a hand, wagging a finger like a scolding tutor.

Yurian clenched his fists, suppressing the urge to punch him.

He knew Melvin had a habit of teasing him, always pushing just far enough to be annoying but never truly disrespectful.

And yet, despite being the target of this ridiculous prank, Yurian couldn’t ignore the possibility that he was telling the truth.

Over the years, countless women had tried to get close to him.

He had never needed to make the first move—people always came to him.

And yet, for the first time, he found himself the one chasing.

Chasing after Yvonne.

And she—

She always seemed to keep her distance.

“Get to the point.”

“Your Grace. If she didn’t have any feelings for you, she wouldn’t have reacted like that.”

Melvin’s smirk widened.

“People only run away when their emotions get in the way.”

Yurian narrowed his eyes, his jaw tight.

Even though he wanted to deny it—

Even though he wanted to say Yvonne had no interest in him—

His gut told him otherwise.

“If she truly had no feelings for you, she would have asked for an introduction.”

“What are you implying?”

“I mean, if I were truly your fiancée, she would have tried to be on my good side! After all, she’s staying in your mansion!”

Yurian felt the simmering anger in his chest begin to cool as he listened to Melvin’s reasoning.

“Your Grace, what were you planning to do just now?”

“Kill you and then explain everything to Yvonne.”

“Wow. Sure, go ahead. But then no woman will ever marry you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because who in their right mind would love a man that violent?”

It was common for nobles to go to war.

Killing enemies to gain military merit was expected.

But witnessing it firsthand—versus hearing about it—was entirely different.

Especially for Yvonne.

“Then I suppose I should drag you out in front of her and expose you as a man.”

“Oh, that much is inevitable. But before that, why not use me a little?”

“…How?”

“She’s got too much pride, right?”

“…”

“People like that usually have a hard time realizing their own emotions.”

“And what do you know about it?”

“More than you, apparently. I’ve been married three times.”

Yurian frowned.

Melvin had a record of multiple marriages.

But his wives had all been knights.

And they had all died on the battlefield.

He had always been drawn to powerful women—likely because he had never been strong himself.

That was why he had married three times.

“Tell me your specific plan.”

“We act affectionate in front of her.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t let Yvonne misunderstand me.”

“And if she never realizes how she feels about you?”

“Then I’ll wait forever.”

“Ugh!”

Yurian, growing tired of the conversation, grabbed Melvin by the collar and dragged him upstairs.

“My feet hurt! Just carry me properly!”

“Only Yvonne is allowed in my arms.”

“Fine! I’ll walk on my own!”

“No, you need to be punished first.”

Yurian’s voice was ice-cold as he continued to drag him.

Now fully returned to his male form, Melvin was practically clawing at the floor as he was hauled up the stairs.

His feet were already sore from wearing heels, and now his toes were about to get skinned from all the dragging.

As Yurian tightened his grip, he noticed something utterly repulsive.

Melvin’s hands and feet were absurdly large.

And despite his elegant disguise earlier, his chest—now fully visible—was nothing but firm, flat muscle.

He nearly gagged.

Yvonne’s small, delicate hands and feet were adorable.

This was not.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Shut up.”

Suppressing his rising irritation, Yurian finally stopped in front of Yvonne’s door.

He raised a hand to knock—only to realize his fingers were trembling.

Anger.

And fear.

What if she had lost all affection for him over this ridiculous stunt?

What if he had ruined everything?

He should have chased after her the moment she misunderstood.

He should have explained immediately.

But before he could knock—

Click.

The door opened.

“You’re being noisy out here.”

“Yvonne.”

She stood in the doorway, now dressed in proper daywear.

Simple, yet elegant—her natural beauty shining effortlessly.

“You look beautiful, Yvonne.”

“Did you come here just to say that?”

“No. I brought this.”

She looked past him.

“…”

“Hahaha. Ah, hello!”

Melvin awkwardly waved.

Yvonne stared at him, momentarily confused.

Broad chest.

Strong physique.

Long hair.

And yet…

“Is that an Adam’s apple?”

“…Yes.”

A pause.

Her confusion deepened.

She recalled what Yurian had said earlier—

That this person was his fiancée.

“Yurian, are you actually… into men?”

TL/N: Is she stupid? There is a guest in the house. Yet she didn’t greet and start to misunderstand a guest? Lol wow. The guest could be a stranger or a known person like who would want to come to your house unnecessarily like is this even her house to be offended about? Ig she is retarded from all the brainwashing lol. If I were the guest I would have been offended and given her a side eye like bitch you that insecure? And on top of that the ml is sooo desperate for her to not misunderstand like?