To put it bluntly, I was asking him to be my lover.
As I loosened my grip on him, my soft laughter filled the quiet space. Heliod, flustered and red-faced, looked around nervously, rubbing his temples.
“Lady Arpen, please release me. Someone could come by at any moment.”
“Hm…”
Though the corridor was still, the faint sound of footsteps echoed in the distance. Reluctantly, I gave his trousers one last teasing stroke before pulling my hand away.
“Ah…!”
Heliod’s body tensed as he stumbled back, quickly covering himself with his cloak. His damp blue eyes glared at me.
“Please stop touching me without reason!”
“There is a reason. How will you endure this during a dance?”
His face darkened in an instant. Running a hand over his flushed cheeks, Heliod sighed deeply.
“Let’s move inside to discuss this. Clearly, I need to explain something.”
“Alright,” I replied cheerfully. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t outright refused, he didn’t hate the idea entirely.
“But really, I’m curious. Can you even dance?”
“…I’ve learned before, though it’s been over ten years.”
“Hmm… so you’ve probably forgotten everything.”
Heliod didn’t deny it, his silence confirming my suspicion. He seemed to have completely erased any memory of ballroom etiquette from his mind.
I nodded, an impish smile tugging at my lips. Between discussing the gossip column and teaching him how to dance, it looked like tonight would run late.
“Sir Knight, you’ll be my partner, won’t you?”
“…If such rumors have already spread, I suppose there’s little choice. But doesn’t this trouble you, Lady Arpen?”
“It is troublesome. With my position, I need to be cautious about scandals.”
Though, considering what we’d already done, it was hardly a “baseless” rumor.
“It seems exchanging letters so openly attracted too much attention,” I remarked.
“That was my mistake. I apologize,” Heliod said, bowing his head with a stiff expression.
I waved my hand dismissively and gently helped him straighten back up.
“It’s fine. It’s you, after all.”
And more importantly…
“Count Jedediah’s estate won’t publish anything that tarnishes my name.”
After all, I’d provided the information to Mary myself.
“There’s no need to worry too much.”
Indeed, I, Luisha Arpen, had felt a surge of determination after hearing the High Priest wax poetic about sincerity. Seeing Heliod become the empire’s most eligible bachelor thanks to his title and wealth only fueled my competitive spirit.
‘There’s no way I’ll let this man fall into someone else’s hands.’
The Jedediah estate was still deliberating whether to publish the rumor about me and Heliod’s relationship. By passing along information to Mary about our recent letters, I had effectively given them permission to run the story. If word spread that the Duchess of Arpen’s daughter had set her sights on the empire’s hero, it might scare off other noblewomen.
Smiling with satisfaction, I thought, ‘Whatever happens, I’ll be the one to claim Sir Knight’s first.’
Whether it was driven by affection or desire, the result would be the same.
When we finally reached his office, Heliod’s first question was about the gossip.
“Are you sure your ties with the Jedediah family mean this won’t harm you?”
“Yes, it should be fine. I think…”
I frowned slightly, considering my words carefully.
Countess Jedediah had a temperament similar to my mother—sharp and opportunistic, always chasing profit. It was almost a miracle she had held back on such a juicy topic until now. Likely, the fact that the subject involved my mother’s daughter and Mary’s closest friend had made her cautious, prompting her to seek approval before publishing anything.
I had given the go-ahead, assuring her that it was fine to write about the visible truth: my frequent visits to Heliod’s office and our exchanged letters. Still, a part of me felt uneasy.
‘I must be really popular,’ I thought wryly.
Having played the role of a heartbreaker in noble circles—flirting with lords and occasionally receiving confessions from young noblemen—it was no surprise that my reputation in society leaned toward that of an incorrigible femme fatale. If rumors spread that I was also pursuing Heliod, the empire’s prized knight, it wouldn’t just be society gossip—my father might very well clutch his chest in despair.
“Well, even so.”
“My father might be a little surprised, but it’s not as if this will damage our family’s reputation,” I said confidently, straightening my shoulders. If something like this were enough to tarnish the Arpen duchy’s honor, then it wouldn’t be the Arpen duchy. Besides, if this were truly troublesome, Countess Jedediah would never have considered publishing the article in the first place.
“Are you okay with our relationship being exposed?”
I whispered teasingly, my lips curling into a mischievous smile. Heliod’s face reddened further as he gripped his cloak tightly, his brows knitting together.
“We did exchange letters, but the assumptions about us are entirely untrue,” he muttered, his tone serious.
“Hm, well… who knows?” I replied with a shrug. The world can be unpredictable, after all.
“I don’t mind. In fact…” Heliod trailed off, narrowing his eyes as if recalling something. He rubbed his temple and sighed deeply, leaving me tilting my head, waiting patiently for him to finish his thought.
“…I might actually welcome it. It could mean fewer nuisances to deal with,” he admitted.
“By nuisances, you mean… the flies—oh, sorry, I mean the young ladies?” I asked, unable to hide my grin.
“Yes, exactly.”
Glancing around his office, I noticed it was cluttered with baskets of flowers, handkerchiefs, and random assortments of sweets. While the handkerchiefs and treats made some sense, the flowers baffled me. Suppressing the bubbling frustration in my chest, I asked casually, “It seems you’ve been quite harassed. Do they even give you flowers?”
“Ah, well…” Heliod hesitated, seemingly struggling to answer.
I stepped closer and grabbed the lapel of his jacket, pulling him toward me. His face was suddenly much closer to mine.
“Well? What about the flowers?” I pressed.
Heliod’s discomfort was evident, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I had to know who was sending flowers to woo him.
“Which young lady is it? Sending flowers seems pretty serious. Is it Lady Isolin? Or someone from the noble faction?”
“It’s neither,” Heliod replied quickly, darting his gaze between my face and his desk before biting his lip. His face flushed as he finally confessed, “It was… a young lord from an unfamiliar family.”
“…Excuse me?” I blinked in confusion.
“A man?”
“Yes,” Heliod admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh.”
Well, I hadn’t expected that.
Releasing his collar, I stepped back awkwardly. Seeing the shock on my face, Heliod spoke hurriedly.
“I have no intention of accepting his gesture. The flowers were unavoidable—I only took them because I couldn’t refuse.”
“Ah, I see… that makes sense,” I replied, nodding slowly.
“Lady Arpen!” Heliod’s face burned bright red as he anxiously watched me, his posture stiff.
Meanwhile, my thoughts were wandering. The idea of Heliod being fawned over by another man was unexpectedly amusing. While I much preferred his desperate moans under me, the image of him bantering with someone like Keron—a handsome man in his own right—was oddly enticing.
‘Sir Knight, you really are irresistible, aren’t you?’
Any scenario, no matter how improper, seemed to suit him perfectly. I caught myself brushing my lips, worrying that my thoughts might escape as words.
Heliod, visibly uneasy, took a step toward me. “I plan to discard the flowers. I only kept them temporarily because I had no choice.”
“Yes, I understand. Don’t worry—I’m not misunderstanding anything.”
I gave him a reassuring smile, though I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the flustered knight before me.
Heliod looked at me with disbelief, his delicate lashes trembling with unease. As I chuckled, pulling myself out of my earlier thoughts, I gently removed his cloak from his shoulders.
“Sir Knight, does this mean I’m being used as a shield against the noble ladies?”
“…That wasn’t my intention. I only meant there would be no harm in—”
“So, if it had been another lady instead of me, that would’ve been fine too?”
Heliod’s mouth snapped shut. As his cloak slid off his shoulders, he flinched, glancing downward with a nervous expression. Shaking his head, he finally responded in a low voice.
“No, I wouldn’t…”
His arousal, still evident, betrayed his unease. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he began retreating slowly. I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from backing away further. His blue eyes quivered, filled with tension.
“If it were another lady, I’d have tried to prevent the article,” he admitted softly.
Well, that made sense. With his newfound reputation and status, he probably could have appealed to Count Jedediah to suppress it.
“But now it’s fine if you don’t stop it?” I asked, tilting my head.
“…If you’re okay with it, Lady Arpen,” he replied.
His bright blue eyes darkened, gazing at me with an almost fragile sincerity.
“Though I am far from a worthy match, if you’re not uncomfortable with this…”
“What makes you think you’re not enough?” I cut him off, my eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Despite my protest, his expression didn’t lighten. Heliod truly believed what he was saying. Gripping his chin firmly, I locked eyes with him and spoke with finality.
“You are not lacking. You’re the empire’s hero and a titled noble now.”
“It’s a mere barony. And ‘hero’ is an undeserved title,” he murmured, his voice tinged with self-doubt.
“Undeserved? Do you know how many citizens love you?”
Heliod’s lips pressed into a tight line, and his lashes fluttered as he averted his gaze. His humility, though admirable, made me sigh.
I released his chin and leaned in slightly, my voice softening.
“Sir Knight, you’re more than enough. You’ve given the people hope. Isn’t that what a hero does?”
He hesitated, his body tense as if trying to absorb my words.
