Chapter 25
Smack–
With the sound of their lips parting, Demeyra finally came to her senses.
As her dazed mind cleared, she suddenly became aware of the stares directed at them from nearby.
A few women stood frozen, hands covering their mouths in shock. Several young men pointed unabashedly at the two of them, their fingers stretched out.
A whirlwind of emotions—80% fluttering excitement and 20% shame—washed over Demeyra. Only now did she feel the tingling ache from the unexpected kiss.
“Ah, Anthony, what are you doing here, of all places…?”
“Did you not like it?”
“It’s not that…”
Demeyra shook her head. She loved Anthony. And just now, Anthony had finally expressed his affection for her.
The way he did it was rough, but her heart had undeniably received a response. Demeyra felt as if her chest might burst from overwhelming emotion.
“Then, please do me a favor, my lady,”
Anthony whispered, still holding her close.
“Wouldn’t you like to do this for me? Don’t you want to ride the Pegasus with me?”
“I-I’ll do it!”
Demeyra answered, her face burning red up to her ears.
“I’ll go ask Iris right now. Just wait a bit!”
She turned around unsteadily and rushed off, laughter bubbling behind her from the onlookers—but she didn’t hear any of it.
Watching her leave, Anthony gave a cold smirk.
* * *
He’s even worse than I thought.
I watched in disbelief as Anthony and Demeyra kissed.
Judging by the twisted smile Anthony gave me just before he did it, the reason behind it was clear.
His pride had been hurt because of me. So he needed someone to take it out on—and foolish Demeyra had unknowingly offered herself up.
Seeing her turn away with a blissful expression, it was clear she had no idea she’d just been made a toy. Everyone else saw it. And they’d already begun to laugh at her.
A deep sigh escaped me.
It wasn’t that I felt sorry for Demeyra, but Anthony’s method was just so pathetic. How could two brothers from the same parents turn out this different?
Did Count Morin and the Countess only care for prenatal education when it came to the second son?
“Iris.”
Demeyra had finally reached me and spoke, slightly out of breath.
“Tell me how to be chosen by the Pegasus. This time, let Anthony be the one chosen.”
“You’ve gone mad.”
I said coldly.
“I already explained. That’s all there is. There’s no such trick.”
“Lies! Tell me everything you know right now!”
Demeyra grabbed my arm and demanded.
“Or else—I’ll tell Mother and Father to lock you away forever. No food, no water, locked in a dark place…”
“You really haven’t changed, have you?”
I said, not bothering to hide my sneer. I was right not to pity her.
“Do whatever you want. But know this—I have plenty of ways to get revenge too.”
“You…!”
“Marie knows quite a lot about you. About the charm you tried to use to win over Viscount Anthony. About how you badmouthed rival ladies behind their backs. About the rumors you tried to spread—there’s proof of all of it.”
“S-Shut up! I told you to shut up!”
Demeyra growled in a low voice. I sighed again.
“I’m not lying.”
“…”
“The Pegasus chose Nael. You should just go back.”
“…”
“I’m not afraid of your threats. I was never that afraid of you, even back then. If you thought you were above me, that was your delusion.”
“…”
Demeyra looked at me with a pleading expression. I didn’t avoid her gaze. I stared back coldly, without another word.
“…I know.”
She finally spoke weakly.
“You know?”
“That I can’t beat you. I’ve always known. Even when we were kids… you never let me win.”
“Was I supposed to let you?”
I asked, my tone laced with scorn.
“The one who shoved my head into the stable trough? Who stole and threw away my mother’s keepsakes? Who broke things and blamed me to Uncle and Aunt? Who told Marie to lock me up whenever she got bored?”
“…I’m not asking to fix our relationship. I’m not trying to make amends or anything.”
She bit her lower lip and continued.
“But Anthony is different. I love him.”
“You love that man?”
The words burst out before I could stop them. Were awful people just naturally attracted to each other?
I glanced toward Anthony, who was standing off in the distance, grinning slyly and sneaking glances our way. I’d thought he was handsome once, but now, with dirt on his face, messy hair, and a twisted smile, he wasn’t exactly presentable.
“If you just like a handsome face, you’d be better off with the First Prince…”
“Anthony is pitiable!”
Demeyra cried out.
“He’s been carrying such a heavy burden since he was young. His hands are all calloused from holding the reins… His self-esteem is in ruins now… I just… I feel sorry for him.”
She poured her heart out.
I clicked my tongue. She actually meant it.
“I want to help him. No—I have to help him. As his lover, it’s my duty.”
“Lover?”
“Yes.”
Demeyra nodded vigorously.
“I’m finally Anthony’s official lover.”
“Demeyra.”
“Didn’t you see just now? He loves me too! Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?”
She looked truly overjoyed.
“This is a chance for you too! Now that I’ll be part of House Morin, I just need to find my rightful place. You don’t like that people call me Lady Apellemeon, right?”
She grabbed both of my hands.
“Are you jealous, by chance? Your fiancé is Brother Bartol, and I’m going to marry someone much more amazing?”
“Would you shut up with that nonsense already?”
I couldn’t take it anymore and shouted.
“If you have eyes, try using them to see reality! Anthony Morin is not going to marry you! How many times does he have to reject you before you get it?”
I shook off her hands and grabbed her shoulders instead. It wasn’t concern—it was frustration at her stupidity that made me speak.
“But—but last time, Anthony didn’t completely reject me!”
Demeyra shook her head violently.
“He said if I promised a bigger dowry, he’d think about it again. And also…”
She pointed to where she and Anthony had just stood.
“Didn’t you see? Anthony just…”
“What, kissed you? So what?”
I asked coldly.
“Does that count as an engagement? Did he even promise anything? Did he call you his fiancée in front of anyone?”
“T-That’s just a matter of time! Once you kiss a lady…”
“Hah.”
I remembered another major flaw in Demeyra besides her stupidity. The Penten estate where she grew up was extremely conservative compared to the capital.
I’d heard that open romantic relationships were practically forbidden there. Courting was allowed, sure—but if a man and woman were caught hugging, the woman could never marry anyone else.
So even men of high status couldn’t go around touching just any woman. The whole estate would brand him trash if he did.
So, in a place like that, a man had to be careful. If someone saw him kissing a woman in public—especially a noble lady—then marriage was more or less expected. And if he didn’t follow through, his reputation would be ruined.
But this wasn’t Panton. This was the Imperial Capital.
And Anthony Morin knew that all too well.
“Did you seriously think a kiss was a proposal?” I asked, almost amazed at her stupidity. “In the Capital, people kiss for less than a handshake. You’ve read too many countryside fairy tales.”
“But… but Anthony isn’t that kind of person,” Demeyra said, her voice quivering.
I laughed, short and bitter.
“You really believe that? He kissed you because he was angry. Because I rejected him. Because he wanted to get back at me.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. He… he looked at me so seriously.”
“Yeah. With the same look he gave two other girls this week. Want me to name them?”
Demeyra flinched. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She probably knew. Deep down, she probably knew everything.
But denial was easier.
“Demeyra,” I said, this time more gently, “you’re not a bad person. But you are being used. I don’t want to see you break into pieces just because someone like Anthony gave you a passing glance.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly turned away.
“I… I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. Just watch. He’ll show you himself.”
She didn’t reply.
I watched her leave, her shoulders trembling, the back of her dress fluttering with each step.
Anthony was still standing nearby, smirking, looking proud of himself. When his eyes met mine, his smirk widened.
I walked straight past him, ignoring the satisfaction in his eyes.
If he thought this was over, he was wrong.
I’d let him play his petty game—for now.
But I had my own game.
And mine had never ended in loss.
