When Pride Fell at my Toes

Through the half-drawn curtains, the dark night sky was visible.

 

“Would you like to lie down again, as you’ve only slept for four hours?”

 

“I’d like to wash up first.”

 

“Then I’ll prepare your clothes for you to change into. I’ll also change the sheets.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Zaveta showed Emilia to the bathroom in the room and quickly left. Emilia gulped down the glass of water she had been about to drink and headed for the bathroom.

 

She tried not to think about the chilling dream she had just had. She focused on washing in the warm water and quickly changed into the nightgown Zaveta had brought her. In fact, she wanted to go home like this.

 

But she hesitated, wondering if it would be an inconvenience to stay here for one night, or if it would be an inconvenience to ask for a carriage to take her back at this late hour.

 

Then she thought about going to report to Enrico and decided to stay in case she ran into him at this early hour.

 

“Here is a cup of warm tea. Please rest well again.”

 

“Thank you. You too, go and rest quickly. I’ll sit here for a while and sleep.”

 

“……I understand. Then, sleep well.”

 

Zaveta, who had been hesitating for a moment, nodded and left, seeing Emilia’s complexion improve. The sound of the door closing soon followed.

 

Emilia, seated on a chair in front of the small fireplace, leaned back comfortably and slowly sipped her tea. The crackling sound of the burning wood made her feel at ease.

 

She wondered if she was being too relaxed in someone else’s mansion, but there was no one else coming at this hour, and she couldn’t go back right away anyway, so she decided to relax and not think too deeply about it. She was still bothered by Enrico’s coldness earlier, but she thought it would be okay if she showed him a good performance on stage next time.

 

After all, her job was to dance to the music like the music box she had seen in her dream.

 

Emilia, who had been staring at the fire with a resigned expression, soon got up calmly. She put her teacup down on the table and went back to the fluffy bed, but she stopped abruptly at the sound of something coming from behind her.

 

‘Did Zaveta come back?’

 

The sound of the door opening slowly. Emilia turned around to see who was coming in.

 

“……Your Grace.”

 

If she had known it was Enrico, she would have pretended to be asleep. Emilia’s expression hardened slightly.

 

“You were awake.”

 

“Yes, I woke up for a while and was about to go back to sleep.”

 

Emilia replied with the intention of telling him to leave. However, as if he didn’t care about her intentions, Enrico walked right into the room without hesitation.

 

His black hair was slightly damp, as if he had just washed it, and he was wearing a black gown similar in color to his hair. As he approached, the smell of heavy, damp perfume mixed with water filled the air.

 

Emilia, who had been dazed for a moment by the languid fragrance that matched him, soon hesitated and stepped back, seeing the front of his open gown.

 

She had seen him not buttoning his shirt all the way up to his neck a few times, but this was the first time she had seen him dressed like this, revealing his collarbone. She had thought she was immune to men’s bodies because she had seen ballerinas dressed with their upper bodies completely bare and tight tights on their lower bodies, but when the duke actually showed off his thick chest muscles in front of her, she couldn’t help but be surprised, as it was much different from what she had seen before.

 

When he was in a suit, he didn’t look like he had this much muscle, but the water dripping from his hair ran down his thick neck and across his chest muscles, making her wonder where to look.

 

“Fever?”

 

He asked softly, approaching her. She, feeling awkward and avoiding his gaze, noticed his approach and took a step back, instinctively covering her forehead with one hand, anticipating he might try to check her temperature again as he did earlier.

 

“I’m fine now.”

 

“Take your hand away.”

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t trust your words.”

 

A sigh rose to her throat. She considered telling him off for his rudeness, but Emilia slowly lowered her hand because he didn’t seem like he would leave until he checked for himself.

 

She hoped he wouldn’t press his forehead to hers again, but when he grabbed her chin and tilted her head down, she quickly raised both hands to block him.

 

“Wait! You can check my temperature with your hand. Why are you being like this?”

 

“They tend to run hot easily, so I can’t check with my hand.”

 

“You can check with the back of your hand.”

 

“Well, why do I have to do that?”

 

“……It’s late at night. It’s a bit inconvenient for you to come into my room……. I don’t think it’s right to approach me so closely dressed like this.”

 

Emilia blinked calmly. Her eyes met his as he looked down at her through his fingers. His long eyelashes curled languidly.

 

“Are you worried that I might do something?”

 

“I didn’t think that. I’m just saying that this situation is not right.”

 

“This is my mansion, so who decides what’s right and wrong? If I’m fine, then it’s fine.”

 

He whispered softly and grabbed her thin wrist tightly. She couldn’t tell if it was because his hand was so big or her wrist was so thin, or maybe both, but he grabbed her wrists with one hand and pulled them down.

 

She tried to stay calm, but her eyes were trembling. He tilted his head to the side and smiled, twisting his lips.

 

“But why do you think I won’t do that?”

 

“……You don’t see me as a person.”

 

Her face, which was muttering nonchalantly as if it were someone else’s business, quickly turned stoic. As if she was just a moving work of art, nothing more. Emilia looked resigned, as if she was used to this treatment.

 

His lips slowly fell as he watched her silently. His face, without his smile, was cold and indifferent. As if this was his true face.

 

“Just because I don’t see you as a person doesn’t mean I can’t touch you.”

 

Emilia’s eyes narrowed sharply. It seemed like the conversation was going to go beyond the line. She couldn’t understand why he was acting like he was frustrated that he couldn’t hurt her even though she was accepting what he wanted.

 

Well, I guess I did agree to sign a contract treating me like a doll in the first place.”

 

It was her own fault that she tried to have a conversation with this man.

 

“Our contract was for me to perform on stage. I would prefer not to have any private encounters like this.”

 

Emilia moved her arm as if to shake off his hand.

 

“Performing on stage is a part of it. You also have to satisfy me with the way you are.”

 

It was pure nonsense. Emilia raised her voice, her cheeks flushed under the gaze that seemed to press down on her.

 

“That wasn’t in the contract!”

 

“So, you want to break it?”

 

Flinched, her moving arm stopped. His fierce gaze softened, and her lower lip trembled.

 

Only then did his hand let go. He moved his hand and gently grasped the tips of her hair. The soft platinum hair rustled in his fingers.

 

“You’re the one who stands to lose. For me, it’s just getting rid of one of my many pieces of art.”

 

He continued to meet her gaze, lifting her hair and lowering his head slightly. Very slowly, his lips touched her hair. It was just hair, but it felt strangely like it was touching her skin.

 

Emilia’s two hands, hanging limply downwards, clenched into fists. His gaze flickered down to her trembling hands.

 

“Don’t provoke me unnecessarily by being guarded. I have no intention of touching you.”

 

He raised his upper body, his lips quirking up. With a mask-like, elaborate smile, his fingers that swept her hair back brushed against her neck. The distance that had narrowed naturally made her feel his breath on her forehead along with his low whisper.

 

“Audition next week?”

 

After brushing the hair on her cheek behind her ear, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. He stood there silently, his hand pressed against her skin as if to check her temperature, and stared intently at her.

 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Not even the sound of the ticking second hand could be heard from him, who always wore a watch. Only Emilia’s slightly increased breathing filled the silence. Her chest, which had puffed up and deflated, seemed to be calming down.

 

“……Yes.”

 

Her late reply came out in a voice that sounded like she was sleepy. But even at that response, Enrico’s eyes showed a look of satisfaction, as if he were a master taming a wild animal.

 

“Let’s see the next stage after the audition. Take good care of your condition until then.”

 

He withdrew his hand, offering advice. She pursed her lips at his words and then closed them.

 

She wanted to reach the truth about her parents as soon as possible, but she knew that doing so would only make it harder for her to maintain her stamina in the long run.

 

Eyes filled with a mixture of resignation and regret were hidden under her eyelids. He made a strange expression for a moment at her action of nodding slightly and lowering her gaze, but quickly erased it.

 

“This time, you should take on a more significant role. As someone I’m sponsoring, you should prove yourself, shouldn’t you?”

 

The word “someone” had an added slight emphasis. Emilia almost laughed at the absurdity of it. His alternating between intimidation and leniency was laughable, as if he were trying to train her. It seemed he was finally treating her as a living being, albeit an animal rather than an inanimate object now.

 

“I suppose so.”

 

She muttered cynically.

 

“Just do what you always do.”

 

“……”

 

“Then the results will match what you’ve shown me so far.”

 

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