Side Story, Episode 7
The Empress’s entourage returned the way they came—via a portal.
They claimed it was to avoid drawing attention with suspiciously fancy carriages constantly entering and leaving the grand duke’s residence.
Their cautiousness was so extreme, from the moment they arrived to the moment they left, that I couldn’t help but wonder if we were shooting a spy movie together.
“Honestly, they’re so thorough about things like this.”
Though, of course, it was probably because the Empress had taken an interest.
After seeing them off in the garden, I returned to the main building of the residence and was just catching my breath when it happened.
I hadn’t even sensed anyone nearby, but someone hugged me from behind and pressed their lips firmly against the nape of my neck.
“Eloise.”
“Oh my goodness!”
Startled, I let out a gasp and trembled.
The culprit, needless to say, was Ian. Somehow, he had returned without me noticing, his presence carrying the faint chill of early spring.
“Wait, when did he get back? I didn’t even hear the carriages.”
On a usual day, I might’ve laughed or reciprocated his affectionate gesture. But this time, my heart was pounding for an entirely different reason.
“He didn’t see everything, did he?”
The Empress’s group had left barely ten minutes ago. My heart raced uncontrollably as I froze in his arms, but his gentle voice reached my ears again.
“Eloise?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“Huh? No?”
“You seem unusually stiff.”
His concerned tone made me plaster an awkward smile on my face without turning to look at him.
“Haha, no, I just got startled.”
Startled because I have something to hide, you dolt.
“By the way, when did you get back? I didn’t even notice you coming in.”
“Just now.”
“…You didn’t happen to run into anyone on your way, did you?”
When I asked nervously, Ian tilted his head slightly, as if puzzled.
His soft silver hair, carrying the chill of the outdoors, brushed gently against my cheek and ear.
“Did someone visit the residence today?”
He didn’t see them!
I silently celebrated and let out a relieved sigh. My heart, which had been pounding wildly, finally began to calm down.
“Oh, no, not really. I just had some jewelers and a few merchants come by to prepare for the wedding.”
Feigning nonchalance, I answered, and Ian let out a soft chuckle. His warm breath tickled the nape of my neck.
“You were pretending not to care, but it seems like you’re looking forward to the wedding quite a bit.”
“…Of course. It’s my first wedding, after all, even if it’s your second.”
To be precise, I was more excited about the proposal I was planning than the wedding itself.
Finding my playful tone endearing, Ian hugged me even tighter.
“Still, I hope you don’t overwork yourself. You’ve seemed quite busy and tired lately.”
“No way, not as much as you.”
I turned in his arms to face him. His slightly flushed cheeks contrasted with his deep azure eyes, drawing me in immediately.
I gazed at him for a moment before, on impulse, cupping both his cheeks and giving them a playful squeeze.
“Look at you! Your face is so gaunt again. Who’s been overworking my handsome husband like this?”
Feigning anger, I grumbled. Ian widened his eyes briefly before quirking an eyebrow with an amused smile.
“Are you planning to retaliate for me?”
“Why not? Anyone who makes your life hard won’t get away with it on my watch.”
Feigning confidence, I replied. Ian clasped my hands lightly, his smile deepening as he gazed at me with unyielding focus.
“Those are comforting words.”
Then, as if to punctuate his sentiment, he kissed the tips of my fingers one after the other. His unwavering gaze never left mine as he did so.
“…You smell sweet.”
“……”
There it was again—that teasing, mischievous glint in his eyes. Occasionally, Ian would look at me with this smoldering, seductive gaze, and every time, it left me completely defenseless.
He knew he was attractive—too well, in fact—and that was the problem.
Feeling the heat rise to my neck, I subtly leaned back.
“Oh, that… I ate a lot of finger foods earlier.”
I had been snacking throughout the day, feeling oddly low on sugar during meetings.
Even as I avoided his gaze and stammered excuses, Ian didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened his hold slightly, bringing my hand to his lips again.
This time, his tongue lightly flicked across the tip of my finger.
“I-Ian?”
Startled, I stiffened and stared at him with wide eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“You weren’t looking at me.”
His response rendered me speechless, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“This sly fox!”
After a few seconds of flustered silence, I managed to pull my hand back and stammer with a beet-red face.
“Well, y-you said you had to leave early tomorrow. Shouldn’t you get some rest…?”
“Should I not go?”
“No!”
Has he lost his mind?
With him gone, I had a mountain of things to take care of!
Startled by my own volume, I shouted, and Ian looked at me with a faintly amused expression before chuckling softly.
“I was joking. It’s an important engagement; I can’t miss it.”
“……”
“But I must admit, you seem very eager to send me off. I feel a bit hurt.”
Of course, his expression showed he was anything but hurt—he seemed thoroughly entertained.
His playful demeanor left me exasperated, and just as I opened my mouth to retort, we were interrupted.
“Ahem! Ahem!”
“Ah!”
A loud, exaggerated cough echoed from the entrance of the main hall, startling me enough to jerk back and pull away from Ian.
When I turned to look, I saw none other than Kyle standing there, leaning casually on one leg with a distinctly unimpressed expression.
…Right. We were still in the main hall, wide open for anyone to see.
Caught up in Ian’s pace, I had completely forgotten where we were.
As shame and embarrassment flushed my cheeks, Kyle delivered a disapproving quip.
“Even if you’re in the residence, could you at least consider the people watching?”
“Plucking out your eyes would be faster.”
Unbothered, Ian shot back without missing a beat.
Seriously, telling your aide you’ll pluck out their eyes? What kind of manners were those?
“Ian!”
I lightly smacked his arm in protest, but, of course, he ignored me entirely. Kyle’s expression grew even more exasperated.
“Ah, what a life. Devoting over ten years of loyalty, only to be threatened with eye-plucking by my one and only lord.”
“Kyle Elze…”
“Ah, never mind, I’ll just excuse myself now. You two have a lovely evening.”
Kyle changed his tune instantly as Ian uttered his full name, his tone dripping with feigned indignation.
“After all, if there’s a little heir on the way, that’s a celebration for us all. I’ll be rooting for you!”
“What…!”
Before I could process his cheeky remark, Kyle gave a mock salute and disappeared into a shimmer of light.
“What on earth was that?!”
The mortification was left solely to me, my face heating up again as I turned to glance at Ian.
Unlike me, Ian looked completely unbothered—calm, even—bordering on indifferent.
“Does this man even feel embarrassment?”
Just as I was silently lamenting his composure, Ian suddenly turned toward me and scooped me up without warning.
“…Ian?”
Why now?
Already flustered to the point of combusting, I could only blink at him in disbelief.
“Forget the nonsense. Let me escort you to the bedroom.”
“Uh, Ian, I have legs, you know.”
“I told you, you seem tired.”
He clearly had no intention of letting me down.
After carrying me up to the second-floor bedroom, Ian gently laid me on the bed and took a step back, leaning down to kiss my forehead softly.
“Eloise.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever it is, don’t overdo it. I’m happy enough just as things are.”
Perhaps those words had cast a spell on me.
The next morning, after seeing Ian off at dawn, I dashed to the kitchen—only to find myself utterly deflated.
The head chef, who should’ve been waiting, was nowhere to be found. Instead, the sous chef and several assistants stood around awkwardly, looking troubled.
“…You’re telling me the head chef isn’t here?”
My incredulous question was met with a sheepish nod from the sous chef, who avoided eye contact as he replied in a small voice.
“Yes, well, he was bustling about early this morning, saying he had to assist you, but then he tripped and badly injured his back…”
I felt as if I’d been smacked over the head with a frying pan.
“So, what about my cake?!”
• • •
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