Bridget told Millea what had happened before she lost consciousness.
When Millea heard the story, she was indignant.
She was so angry that she stood in front of the window with her hands on her hips, trying to say something and then stopping.
She had nothing to say but harsh words.
Millea swallowed back countless vulgar words and finally, with patience, nobly rebuked Isaac.
"There is a man worse than my husband!"
Being compared to her husband was the worst insult to her.
It was common knowledge that she did not treat her husband like a human being.
Millea was relieved that Julian had saved Bridget at just the right time.
"It's a good thing His Majesty moved quickly. If he hadn't, it's terrifying to even think about it."
Then she tilted her head.
"But how did His Majesty know where Bridget was? He probably wasn't watching you the whole time."
That was a curious thing even for Bridget.
Even though Millea had told her story, it was so hard to find her and save her so quickly.
"What are you going to do now? Are you going to tell your parents about this?"
"I don't expect anything from my parents".
"Yes."
Millea didn't ask any more questions.
Marriages among the aristocracy were often sustained by complex relationships of interest between families rather than by romance or fidelity.
No one but her family could be of any help to Bridget. and Millea, who carried the King on her back but could not divorce her terrible husband, knew this better than anyone else.
"You may stay at my mansion until you make up your mind."
Could it be because they both have similarly horrible husbands?
Millea showed great favor to Bridget.
But Bridget politely declined Millea's offer.
"Thank you, but I plan to go back to Winston Mansion."
Millea also knew that in the end, she had no choice but to do so.
But there's no need to do that right now.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't want to run away."
Bridget nodded with a firm look in her eyes.
"Why are you so stubborn after going through such a big thing? I just can't understand it."
Millea, realizing she couldn't keep her, suggested.
"Then at least stay here until your body's wounds heal. I can't send back the person His Majesty brought back covered in wounds."
None of the injuries were serious enough to require recovery, but it was just a pretext to capture Bridget.
"Don't be stubborn. I can't give in any longer."
***
Millea, who packed breakfast for Bridget, who said she had no appetite, saying that eating something would make her feel better, said that it would be better to visit Julian when he had free time.
Bridget took off the nightgown the maids had made her wear and changed into the maid's outfit that Millea had given her.
It was a cream-colored shirt with a boringly neat design and a dark blue skirt with low saturation.
It was an outfit that perfectly reflected Millea's taste for neat things, and the elegant sheen of the fabric and the expensive mother-of-pearl decoration elevated the plainness into luxury.
Ironically, the outfit suited Bridget better than Millea.
The simple design made Bridget's delicate features and clear skin stand out even more.
The downside was that even the scabs at the corners of her lips were visible.
Millea felt sorry and tried to cover Bridget's wounds with cosmetics, but it was not enough to hide the blemishes on her pure white skin.
"When you see His Majesty, don't say anything and don't do anything."
Millea urged her in front of the reception room where Julian was.
"I've seen many people lose their heads after making a slip of the tongue. As Bridget would know if you had heard the rumors, the palace is going through turbulent times."
It was a polite way of covering up Julian's tyranny.
Millea told her to bow down and say hello to him, saying, "I'm grateful that Your Majesty saved me." She would take care of the rest.
"And don't be surprised at any sight of His Majesty. He is just a free spirit."
She had raised the animal since it was young, but it was so ferocious that she couldn't let her guard down. It was like a zookeeper trying to enter the cage of a wild beast.
Bridget watched Millea knock, a little nervously.
"Your Majesty, I will go in."
Millea has finally opened the doors.
'...!'
Bridget reflexively shut her eyes tightly as the magi rushed out and engulfed her, then opened them again.
The black fog-like magic was so thick that it felt like she was being swallowed up in darkness even in broad daylight.
"Come in, Bridget."
Millea gestured to Bridget.
Just as when you go from a bright place to a dark place, your eyes may have difficulty seeing but will soon adjust, once your eyes adjust to magi, you will have no trouble seeing your surroundings.
Bridget entered the thick magi.
'Julian.'
He was sitting slouched on the sofa with his back to the window.
He sat back with his arms crossed over the back of the chair and lifted his expressionless face to look at the two people.
Bridget's heart was pounding, and she lowered her gaze, unable to look at her ex-lover.
Her wings were pounding with a difficult emotion that she couldn't tell if it was excitement or nervousness, and she kept swallowing dry saliva.
The person she had missed so much was right in front of her.
"Lady Winston would like to thank Your Majesty for last night's activities."
"..."
Julian stared at Bridget and emptied the glass in his hand.
He had his shirt undone, exposing his bare chest, and there were bottles of alcohol rolling around him.
Millea didn't even blink at the sight of him drunk in broad daylight as if she was used to it.
It was a sight that was hard to bear for Millea, who valued cleanliness and manners, but It was so familiar that it made her sick.
It was more bearable because it was Julian and not someone else.
There was a strange air about Julian, that made even the most messy appearance not seem so messy.
It was the same even now. His eyes... which were squinted and drunk on his white skin that had not seen the light, had a captivating light, and his messy hair also looked harmonious as if he had put on some style.
Millea felt bothered by the erotic atmosphere he was giving off today, so she looked at Bridget's expression.
Fortunately, Bridget was not looking directly at Julian but was looking down with a calm expression.
Millea cleared her throat, signaling Bridget to bend down in greeting.
Bridget obediently followed Milea's instructions.
"I heard the full story from the Countess. She said that I was safe thanks to Your Majesty's rescue."
Julian said nothing.
Millea finished it off as if she had known it would happen.
"The Viscountess is not feeling well, so I will take care of her for a while so that she can recover at the palace and then return home. Is that okay?"
It was a formal report. Julian had no involvement in anything that happened in the precipitation. He did whatever Millea said he would do.
As if she hadn't expected an answer, Millea tried to take Bridget out with her.
At that moment, Julian, who had not taken his eyes off Bridget for even a moment from the beginning until now, gave an order with a mocking smile.
"Tell her to speak directly."
Millea paused.
"Your Majesty."
"Tell her to speak to you directly, Millea. Don't hide her from me. You're treating me like I have a contagious disease."
Strictly speaking, he was treated as a murderer, not an infectious disease carrier.
"You are drunk, Your Majesty. It seems inappropriate for conversation. The Viscountess needs to rest after last night's events."
"Are you afraid I'll kill that woman?"
"I can't say no."
Millea answered straightly.
Julian laughed as if he was in awe.
"If I was going to kill her, I wouldn't have brought her here."
He said he wouldn't kill Bridget.
Julian was capricious and violent, but he kept his word to Milea.
"I'm okay, Millea."
Bridget, who had no intention of ending this meeting in vain from the beginning, stepped forward.
Then, Millea, who could no longer endure it, stepped back, looking at Bridget with a worried look.
"Millea."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Go out and look."
"..."
When Julian noticed that Millea was not going to give up her seat until the end, she reluctantly went outside.
"..."
There was a brief silence in the living room where only the two people remained.
Julian, who had filled his empty glass with alcohol, slowly got up and approached Bridget.
An empty bottle of liquor rolled across the floor, caught between his bare feet.
He walked leisurely around her, his feet dragging on the cold marble floor.
The sweet smell of alcohol came from the wind that rose gently with those slow movements.
"You cooked Millea really well."
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