PMBA | Chapter 20

Silence hung heavily in the air. Lexion looked around Kyrie’s room, a smirk twisting his lips.

“I’m surprised to find such a shabby room in the Ducal residence.”

He wasn’t wrong. Her room was a total mess.

In case Kyrie resisted or harmed herself before being sent to the convent, all sharp objects that could be used as a weapon had been removed. Even the furniture had been taken out of her room, leaving only an old mattress on the floor.

But that wasn’t what bothered Kyrie. Her face turned cold.

“I’m the one who’s surprised.”

“By what?”

“That you, who avoided me so diligently, have come to see me now.”

Kyrie’s voice was devoid of even anger. There was nothing left to say to him, nothing she wanted to say.

Sensing her indifference, Lexion spoke in a condescending tone,

“And you, for a woman who chased after me so relentlessly, don’t seem very pleased to see me.”

Kyrie stared at him in disbelief.

If she had truly harassed and pursued him relentlessly, as the rumors claimed, his words might have made sense. But it had all been a carefully orchestrated act, a play they had staged together.

‘Perhaps…’ 

Perhaps, after hearing the constant gossip about her harassing him, even Lexion, who knew the truth, had started to believe it.

She herself sometimes got confused after repeatedly hearing accusations about things she hadn’t done. Wondering if she had actually done those things.

If not that, then…

‘Elise.’

Had her “sister,” who disliked her for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, whispered something to Lexion?

Kyrie could easily picture Elise, unlike herself, enjoying a blessed wedding ceremony. But the image didn’t linger. She didn’t care. She only regretted one thing.

That she hadn’t gotten a definitive answer from the Duke and slept with him when she had the chance.

The man who had looked down at her bare feet with amusement, the man whose gaze had lingered on her dirty white feet and stared at her ankles, as if they were caught in a trap, suddenly flashed through her mind.

As Kyrie’s throat tightened once again,

“If it were me, I would ask for leniency with a bit more politeness.”

Lexion interrupted her thoughts and cute her off.

“Leniency? I don’t understand what you mean.” 

Kyrie scoffed openly. Ignoring her, Lexion’s brow twitched as his nose brushed against her hair.

Then, his hand grabbed her hair, almost yanking it.

“…Your Highness.” 

As Kyrie frowned, Lexion said coldly, “Why don’t you add ‘lewd woman’ to your list of titles, along with ‘Mad Dog’?”

“…”

“Oh, did you already have that one? From chasing after me?”

Kyrie couldn’t understand Lexion’s sudden anger. Just as she looked up at him…

“If you begged, I might have considered taking you as my mistress, Kyrie.”

“…What?”

“It would be better than going to a convent.”

Lexion’s gaze was serious, even as Kyrie stared at him in disbelief.

He meant it.

He even considered it an act of kindness towards her.

‘This woman chased after me for years.’

Lexion was tired of Kyrie Ernberg, yet he had also grown accustomed to her. To the woman who always stood quietly in the corner, smiling brightly, wherever he went. To the woman who hovered around him, taking care of the bothersome noblewomen.

If she had pursued him so persistently…

It must have meant he was important to her. 

The agreement he had made with her was conveniently forgotten, replaced by the simple fact that she wanted him.

And that satisfied Lexion’s deep-seated need for validation. The satisfaction of being so desperately desired, the satisfaction of controlling someone’s fate. A satisfaction he had inherited from his father, but had been unable to openly express due to his father’s overbearing presence.

He liked how Kyrie Ernberg would lower her eyelashes and smile whenever he, on a whim, allowed her to sit beside him and patted her shoulder.

The sense of accomplishment he derived from taming the woman others called a Mad Dog, the woman everyone else feared and considered untamable, sometimes pleased him greatly.

‘The mad dog must really love His Highness.’

‘It’s funny. She acts so wild, but she’s always docile in front of His Highness.’

At some point, Lexion had started to believe it. That Kyrie truly loved him and was pursuing him out of love.

The idea of a mad dog, hostile to everyone else, being obsessed with only him, was a sweet  and intoxicating tale.

This feeling intensified after he met and won the heart of Elise Ernberg.

‘For both daughters of the prestigious Ernberg family to fall in love with His Highness…’

‘Truly befitting a noble and esteemed individual.’

It was all thanks to the flattering words of the nobles, eager to please him, after he impulsively announced his relationship with Elise following the incident on the terrace stairs.

Listening to them, he realized it was true. He was the Crown Prince of the Empire, loved by two daughters of a prestigious family.

‘Then there’s no need to choose just one.’

He would marry Elise Ernberg and make her his Crown Princess, and keep Kyrie Ernberg as his mistress. The Duke’s ledger and dowry would be his regardless of whom he married.

And Kyrie herself would gladly accept.

But then, Kyrie returned, reeking of another man’s scent. A scent that lingered even after days, even after being confined to her room in this state.

It wasn’t the first time. She had smelled of strong cigar smoke when she’d confronted him and Elise at the terrace.

‘Which bastard was it?’

He had a feeling he knew the answer. The scent was familiar. And it irritated him.

‘I told you to stop!’

He had instinctively shouted and pushed her down the stairs. She was carried away in his cousin’s arms. Even as he comforted Elise, his eyes had been drawn to Kyrie Ernberg, limp and unconscious.

‘She’ll be fine.’

She would be fine. Kyrie loved him, and she had always acted as if she had no other options. She wouldn’t give up on him so easily.

But then, Lexion learned that Kyrie hadn’t returned to the Ducal residence that day.

‘Kyrie Ernberg didn’t come home?’

‘Yes, Your Highness. Is something the matter…?’

Lexion’s face contorted as he recalled the dumbfounded expression of the Duke’s second son as he answered. That’s why he had said those words.

‘Of course, something’s the matter. The woman who deserves punishment for pushing her sister hasn’t come home.’

The people at the Ducal residence, who hadn’t witnessed the incident and were indifferent to the truth, were in an uproar. With a single word from Lexion, the Duke decided to send Kyrie to a convent immediately.

And that’s why Lexion was here.

‘But even now…’

She still carried the scent of another man. Lexion’s mood soured. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

As he hardened his expression, Kyrie chuckled inwardly.

‘A mistress?’ 

She was even more infuriated by the fact that Lexion’s gaze was sincere.

What was even more frustrating was that, in this situation, she was actually considering to bet on this possibility.

‘No.’

But it was a fleeting thought. She couldn’t trust such a capricious man.

Kyrie took a deep breath and replied, 

“I didn’t wish to be your mistress, Your Highness.”

Lexion’s eyes darkened slightly. He sighed and spoke,

“Yes, you wanted to be my wife.”

Kyrie smiled bitterly. Lexion, as always, spoke condescendingly, as if bestowing her a favor.

“But the benefits you’d receive wouldn’t be much different as a mistress.”

“Benefits?”

“You could love me. Just as you always have.”

“I don’t need to.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t need to.”

Lexion’s lips twisted into a sneer as he saw the coldness in her eyes.

“You’d rather go to a convent than be my mistress? Your love for me is truly touching.”

“….”

“But I will never take a mad dog as my wife, Kyrie.”

Lexion released her hair roughly and stormed out of the room. Kyrie shook her head.

She realized, with a bitter smile on her lips, that being called a “Mad Dog,” that being seen subduing her, had pleased him more than she thought.

But the Duke had also said he liked that she was a mad dog.

‘An heir burdened with the disgrace of a mad dog. Perfect.’

For some reason, those words echoed in her mind. Not a gentle caress, but an itch she wanted to scratch away.

‘Even though I know it’s over…’

Why did she keep thinking about that man?

The next day, after a sleepless night plagued by these thoughts,

Creak. 

The door opened again, and someone entered.

“It’s time to go, My Lady.”

It was the Duke’s men.