Noah and I stayed together the whole time. Compared to the excitement of our first kiss, we had a pretty healthy time. We mostly chatted about this and that, played chess, or poker.
Of course, I lost everything, but I'm not the type to be obsessed with winning or losing. Noah snickers and makes a smug expression. Huh, he seems unaware of the truth that losing is winning.
I'll win someday. I clenched my teeth so I wouldn't forget this humiliation. I just have a strong desire for revenge.
As I spent my time on a losing streak, the night grew late. The maid, Lenny, smiled brightly and brought me champagne with strawberries, then bowed and left the room.
“Strawberries and champagne go well together.”
Noah spoke in a gentle tone, picking up a strawberry neatly arranged on a silver platter and placing it in my mouth. Imported? Fragrant and sweet. No, even chewing on dry leaves would taste sweet these days.
The crackling of the fireplace and the lamps softly illuminated the dark room, creating a subtly romantic atmosphere.
Noah, who was drinking from a narrow-necked champagne glass, smiled at me. The light reflected off the glass, casting a sparkling halo across his face.
I was so entranced, as if I were witnessing a trance. It was so beautiful it was almost fatal. Why was it so beautiful?
The ash-gray hair, now dyed and bleached, also looks great on him. We quickly finished a plate of strawberries and a bottle of champagne and prepared for bed.
I finished showering and sat on a chair in front of the fireplace, drying my wet hair with a towel while Noah went to wash up.
As I gazed at the warm glow of the fireplace, I suddenly remembered the kiss we had under the sunset-colored window.
Just thinking about it made my face flush, and I rubbed my cheek. It happened a few hours ago, but it felt as vivid as if it had just happened.
I lay down on my bed, drawing the covers over me with a devout heart, cultivating my peace. The scene from earlier kept coming back to me, sending a tingling sensation down my spine, but I tried to erase it.
You shouldn't be thinking about that right now. He won't be doing anything today either.
He said firmly.
"The Princess is conservative, so I won't touch you until we're married. So don't worry."
It's so unfair. I don't dare to make excuses, so I just let that thought go.
The moon was obscured by clouds, so not even a faint glimmer of moonlight entered the window. As I was becoming accustomed to the darkness, which had thickened like ink, the bathroom door opened and closed. Shadows flickered across the ivory-colored walls, as if overlaid on the walls, and then the bed sank and rocked gently.
A long, warm breath fell on my cheek as I closed my eyes and looked at him.
“You’re pretending to sleep again.”
I opened my closed eyes, feeling embarrassed by the voice mixed with a low laugh.
Perhaps it was because I was accustomed to the darkness, or perhaps because we were so close, that his wet, red nose and eyes stood out clearly. The refreshing scent of soap wafted pleasantly in my nostrils. He placed his arm under the nape of my neck and spoke with a faint sigh.
“We're going to see the Queen tomorrow. I think she’s asking you to come because there’s a palace ball.”
“You don’t want to meet Her Majesty the Queen? You don’t look so happy.”
I asked, tilting my head slightly. The hard arm pillow was a little uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid the Queen will take you away.”
At first, it sounded like a joke, but his straight lips seemed serious. Since he's someone who speaks without further explanation, I struggled to understand his meaning.
“Me? Um...”
Would the Queen summon me, a Belford native, as a maid or even summon me to the palace to gather information? Someone in power can do so. I understand that maids are used as secretaries, playmates, and conversation partners. Why would they bother recruiting me, someone with a cold personality and a nearly expressionless face?
“I don’t think that will happen.”
"What if you value the Queen more than me? I'd be so upset."
“What are you talking about, that is...”
Are you saying the Queen has lovers of all genders? It's common for attractive people to have lovers of both genders. I answered, stroking my slightly swollen lower lip.
“Well, I’m not biased, but I like men better.”
“Try saying Noah instead of the man.”
“Noah is better.”
"Good job."
He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the quick correction, and slowly stroked my hair. It felt strange, like I was being manipulated. He continued, continuing to praise and pat me on the head.
“So I thought about it.”
What are you thinking? Everything you think is so bizarre. I decided to listen to his thoughts for now.
Noah sat up, then turned around to stare at the ceiling. His high nose bobbed up and down, as if humming.
It seems he hadn't thought about it before, but was about to think about it. His face slowly turned back to me, as if he'd finished thinking.
In an instant, his expression became blank as if he had glimpsed something else.
“I need to make sure it’s mine.”
“Didn't we already announce our marriage? What could be more certain?”
“I should have gotten married a long time ago, but I’m not rich yet.”
How long are you going to keep worrying about that? I can't even drink cold water in front of this man, who has a bit of a grudge. I rubbed the back of my neck, embarrassed, as I lay on my side listening.
I heard the rustling of the blanket, and Noah raised his upper body, leaning against the sheets and looking down at me. I glanced at him.
“I don’t like this kind of thing because it’s not gentlemanly, but I can’t help it.”
"Hmm?"
My characteristic nasal sound, the one I use when I'm flustered, leaked out. His broad shoulders obscured my vision, as if smothering it. The scent of soap, melting in the warmth of my body, was dizzying.
His body, which I could feel just by touching it, was solid and tightly woven, and it pressed heavily on my chest, causing a weak, gasping sound to escape from my mouth.
“Please understand. There’s a reason for everything. Yes?”
Wouldn't it be nice to know the reason, too?
He completely dominated my position, then pressed his cheek against mine and rubbed it gently, like a cat. It was a seemingly innocent, affectionate gesture, but my body tensed, perhaps from anticipation or tension.
Noah's hair tickled my face, and I turned my head. His lukewarm breath touched the base of my neck, then clung to the tip of my nose, then to my soft lips.
“Excuse me?”
My mind was spinning, unable to keep up with my senses, unable to grasp the situation. Startled by the burning sensation rising from my delicate body, I covered my mouth.
It was as if I'd forgotten how to breathe, and my breath stopped. My lungs were starting to hurt. The strange yet familiar feeling sent pleasant goosebumps down my spine.
The playful, tickling sensation gradually transformed into a tingling pain that led to pleasure. He grabbed my hand, which covered my mouth with his face buried in it, and pulled me down.
Embarrassed by the groans that escaped my lips, I bit the inside of my mouth. The sound of him burying his face in the crook of my neck and swallowing deeply with each breath was incredibly erotic.
Suddenly? Since we'd just had such a passionate kiss and even had champagne to set the mood, I have no objection to moving on to the next step.
But he's a damned man with good self-control and knows the virtue of moderation.
He loves playing with fire, but he doesn't know how to put out the fire he's set in someone's heart. No, he knows, but he just doesn't do it. He finished with a slur, then wiped his mouth and smiled lazily.
“Well, this is enough.”
It was the face of an artist, satisfied with his finished work. Only then did I realize what he had done, and I placed a hand on my neck, which felt a prickle.
He left a red, branded mark on my neck. It was like a brand.
“What did you just do to me?”
Even though I knew, I calmly demanded an explanation, but Noah, as if he had done his job, lay down on his side again and put his arm under the curve of my waist.
He pulled me tighter, his arms wrapped around me, and I rolled into his embrace. He held me tightly in his embrace, whispering a secret into my ear.
“This way, everyone will think you're mine. There’s no way I’ll lose you.”
“Do you really have to do it like this?”
"Everyone will only be looking here, not at your face. They won't be able to think about anything else."
He gently pressed his finger against the red mark. Is he genuinely worried the Queen might take me as her lover? I wonder how many more confirmations he'll have to make, now that the wedding announcement has already been made.
"Ha..."
I let out a sigh. Why doesn't he realize he's the only man who's smitten by me? Objectively, he's the complete opposite of a lively, vibrant, and lovely man, and he's a woman of my own taste.
It might work in modern times, but this is the late 19th century, like the 20th century.
He looked happy, having regained peace of mind and body.
"I don't normally like this kind of thing. But maybe because it's you? It's nice to have a mark that says it's mine."
“The intention is really cute... but we just need to match the rings.”
I'm not the type to care much about what others think, but I wonder if there's a more ordinary alternative. At my weighty words, Noah covered his mouth with one hand, and his eyes widened.
He surprisingly lacks ordinary thinking. Just as I was about to argue about the matter, a languid voice rang out, instantly silencing any other emotions.
“Diana, can we do that again?”
The question, "What is that?" remained in my mind. My lips were swallowed by him, my breath hot.
It was morning, but hazy, gray clouds obscured the sun, casting a gloomy shadow all around. It seemed to reflect my displeasure. The damp room, perhaps anticipating rain, carried a faint, distinctive woody scent.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and lamented the marks on my neck that looked like a red petal had been pressed into it.
I feel like I'll be a little embarrassed if I go to a crowded place. I'll get revenge. I'll really get revenge. I really can't be the only one who suffers this. I'll make him a thoroughly regretful man and teach him the painful lesson of the legend that excessive greed leads to disaster.
I clenched my fists with a strong will. I flung open the bathroom door and walked toward him with the weight of a triumphant general.
He was sitting lazily on the sofa, legs crossed, reading the newspaper. I placed my hands on my hips and took a deep breath, intending to burst out in anger.
Noah's eyes narrowed, and he smiled prettily. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, like a cat's.
“Have you showered? I’ll have toast for breakfast. I’ll spread strawberry jam on it.”
“...with peanut butter.”
Like a sandcastle swept away by the waves, despite my hard work, my desire for revenge and resolve vanished. I worried that if I got angry at that pretty boy, I'd end up regretting it, so I decided to wait until next time.
Actually, I can't be mad at that guy.
I wore a dress that covered my neck to attend the royal ball that evening. Noah, being the thorough man he is, anticipated this as well, leaving it slightly raised, just enough to be visible if you look closely.
Even wearing a choker doesn't help. It's a brilliant choice of position. Lenny tilted her head, looking at my neck.
“Why is it like this?”
“I got bitten by a mosquito.”
"This winter? That's a big deal. I'll catch it while I clean the room today."
Lenny clenched her fist, determined to catch the mosquito. How cute, how innocent.
There was a knock on the door, as if they knew I was ready, and Noah came in, dressed in a suit and a black balmacaan coat.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mosquito.”
"Mosquito?"
Noah pretended not to notice and fiddled with the cufflinks on his sleeve. Lenny looked at him with a puzzled look.
Noah was definitely right.
The people in the ballroom briefly glanced at the red that appeared above our lapels like a moment of sunrise, then flinched and averted their gaze.
She didn't even remember my face, so even if we met again later, it would be like meeting for the first time. However, Princess Erita, who had come to speak to Noah, glared at my face and neck with red, feverish eyes.
One of the reasons I got a tattoo on my neck was probably because of that woman. It's a very big picture.
I smiled leisurely and lifted my chin. If that's the intention, I'm happy about it. I really hate people coveting what's mine.
The Princess's face turned pale as she stared at Noah, her eyes filled with anger. It seemed she had discovered the same mark on his neck.
I just finished taking revenge on him in the car on the way to Tempshire Palace.
Of course, I lost everything, but I'm not the type to be obsessed with winning or losing. Noah snickers and makes a smug expression. Huh, he seems unaware of the truth that losing is winning.
I'll win someday. I clenched my teeth so I wouldn't forget this humiliation. I just have a strong desire for revenge.
As I spent my time on a losing streak, the night grew late. The maid, Lenny, smiled brightly and brought me champagne with strawberries, then bowed and left the room.
“Strawberries and champagne go well together.”
Noah spoke in a gentle tone, picking up a strawberry neatly arranged on a silver platter and placing it in my mouth. Imported? Fragrant and sweet. No, even chewing on dry leaves would taste sweet these days.
The crackling of the fireplace and the lamps softly illuminated the dark room, creating a subtly romantic atmosphere.
Noah, who was drinking from a narrow-necked champagne glass, smiled at me. The light reflected off the glass, casting a sparkling halo across his face.
I was so entranced, as if I were witnessing a trance. It was so beautiful it was almost fatal. Why was it so beautiful?
The ash-gray hair, now dyed and bleached, also looks great on him. We quickly finished a plate of strawberries and a bottle of champagne and prepared for bed.
I finished showering and sat on a chair in front of the fireplace, drying my wet hair with a towel while Noah went to wash up.
As I gazed at the warm glow of the fireplace, I suddenly remembered the kiss we had under the sunset-colored window.
Just thinking about it made my face flush, and I rubbed my cheek. It happened a few hours ago, but it felt as vivid as if it had just happened.
I lay down on my bed, drawing the covers over me with a devout heart, cultivating my peace. The scene from earlier kept coming back to me, sending a tingling sensation down my spine, but I tried to erase it.
You shouldn't be thinking about that right now. He won't be doing anything today either.
He said firmly.
"The Princess is conservative, so I won't touch you until we're married. So don't worry."
It's so unfair. I don't dare to make excuses, so I just let that thought go.
The moon was obscured by clouds, so not even a faint glimmer of moonlight entered the window. As I was becoming accustomed to the darkness, which had thickened like ink, the bathroom door opened and closed. Shadows flickered across the ivory-colored walls, as if overlaid on the walls, and then the bed sank and rocked gently.
A long, warm breath fell on my cheek as I closed my eyes and looked at him.
“You’re pretending to sleep again.”
I opened my closed eyes, feeling embarrassed by the voice mixed with a low laugh.
Perhaps it was because I was accustomed to the darkness, or perhaps because we were so close, that his wet, red nose and eyes stood out clearly. The refreshing scent of soap wafted pleasantly in my nostrils. He placed his arm under the nape of my neck and spoke with a faint sigh.
“We're going to see the Queen tomorrow. I think she’s asking you to come because there’s a palace ball.”
“You don’t want to meet Her Majesty the Queen? You don’t look so happy.”
I asked, tilting my head slightly. The hard arm pillow was a little uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid the Queen will take you away.”
At first, it sounded like a joke, but his straight lips seemed serious. Since he's someone who speaks without further explanation, I struggled to understand his meaning.
“Me? Um...”
Would the Queen summon me, a Belford native, as a maid or even summon me to the palace to gather information? Someone in power can do so. I understand that maids are used as secretaries, playmates, and conversation partners. Why would they bother recruiting me, someone with a cold personality and a nearly expressionless face?
“I don’t think that will happen.”
"What if you value the Queen more than me? I'd be so upset."
“What are you talking about, that is...”
Are you saying the Queen has lovers of all genders? It's common for attractive people to have lovers of both genders. I answered, stroking my slightly swollen lower lip.
“Well, I’m not biased, but I like men better.”
“Try saying Noah instead of the man.”
“Noah is better.”
"Good job."
He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the quick correction, and slowly stroked my hair. It felt strange, like I was being manipulated. He continued, continuing to praise and pat me on the head.
“So I thought about it.”
What are you thinking? Everything you think is so bizarre. I decided to listen to his thoughts for now.
Noah sat up, then turned around to stare at the ceiling. His high nose bobbed up and down, as if humming.
It seems he hadn't thought about it before, but was about to think about it. His face slowly turned back to me, as if he'd finished thinking.
In an instant, his expression became blank as if he had glimpsed something else.
“I need to make sure it’s mine.”
“Didn't we already announce our marriage? What could be more certain?”
“I should have gotten married a long time ago, but I’m not rich yet.”
How long are you going to keep worrying about that? I can't even drink cold water in front of this man, who has a bit of a grudge. I rubbed the back of my neck, embarrassed, as I lay on my side listening.
I heard the rustling of the blanket, and Noah raised his upper body, leaning against the sheets and looking down at me. I glanced at him.
“I don’t like this kind of thing because it’s not gentlemanly, but I can’t help it.”
"Hmm?"
My characteristic nasal sound, the one I use when I'm flustered, leaked out. His broad shoulders obscured my vision, as if smothering it. The scent of soap, melting in the warmth of my body, was dizzying.
His body, which I could feel just by touching it, was solid and tightly woven, and it pressed heavily on my chest, causing a weak, gasping sound to escape from my mouth.
“Please understand. There’s a reason for everything. Yes?”
Wouldn't it be nice to know the reason, too?
He completely dominated my position, then pressed his cheek against mine and rubbed it gently, like a cat. It was a seemingly innocent, affectionate gesture, but my body tensed, perhaps from anticipation or tension.
Noah's hair tickled my face, and I turned my head. His lukewarm breath touched the base of my neck, then clung to the tip of my nose, then to my soft lips.
“Excuse me?”
My mind was spinning, unable to keep up with my senses, unable to grasp the situation. Startled by the burning sensation rising from my delicate body, I covered my mouth.
It was as if I'd forgotten how to breathe, and my breath stopped. My lungs were starting to hurt. The strange yet familiar feeling sent pleasant goosebumps down my spine.
The playful, tickling sensation gradually transformed into a tingling pain that led to pleasure. He grabbed my hand, which covered my mouth with his face buried in it, and pulled me down.
Embarrassed by the groans that escaped my lips, I bit the inside of my mouth. The sound of him burying his face in the crook of my neck and swallowing deeply with each breath was incredibly erotic.
Suddenly? Since we'd just had such a passionate kiss and even had champagne to set the mood, I have no objection to moving on to the next step.
But he's a damned man with good self-control and knows the virtue of moderation.
He loves playing with fire, but he doesn't know how to put out the fire he's set in someone's heart. No, he knows, but he just doesn't do it. He finished with a slur, then wiped his mouth and smiled lazily.
“Well, this is enough.”
It was the face of an artist, satisfied with his finished work. Only then did I realize what he had done, and I placed a hand on my neck, which felt a prickle.
He left a red, branded mark on my neck. It was like a brand.
“What did you just do to me?”
Even though I knew, I calmly demanded an explanation, but Noah, as if he had done his job, lay down on his side again and put his arm under the curve of my waist.
He pulled me tighter, his arms wrapped around me, and I rolled into his embrace. He held me tightly in his embrace, whispering a secret into my ear.
“This way, everyone will think you're mine. There’s no way I’ll lose you.”
“Do you really have to do it like this?”
"Everyone will only be looking here, not at your face. They won't be able to think about anything else."
He gently pressed his finger against the red mark. Is he genuinely worried the Queen might take me as her lover? I wonder how many more confirmations he'll have to make, now that the wedding announcement has already been made.
"Ha..."
I let out a sigh. Why doesn't he realize he's the only man who's smitten by me? Objectively, he's the complete opposite of a lively, vibrant, and lovely man, and he's a woman of my own taste.
It might work in modern times, but this is the late 19th century, like the 20th century.
He looked happy, having regained peace of mind and body.
"I don't normally like this kind of thing. But maybe because it's you? It's nice to have a mark that says it's mine."
“The intention is really cute... but we just need to match the rings.”
I'm not the type to care much about what others think, but I wonder if there's a more ordinary alternative. At my weighty words, Noah covered his mouth with one hand, and his eyes widened.
He surprisingly lacks ordinary thinking. Just as I was about to argue about the matter, a languid voice rang out, instantly silencing any other emotions.
“Diana, can we do that again?”
The question, "What is that?" remained in my mind. My lips were swallowed by him, my breath hot.
It was morning, but hazy, gray clouds obscured the sun, casting a gloomy shadow all around. It seemed to reflect my displeasure. The damp room, perhaps anticipating rain, carried a faint, distinctive woody scent.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and lamented the marks on my neck that looked like a red petal had been pressed into it.
I feel like I'll be a little embarrassed if I go to a crowded place. I'll get revenge. I'll really get revenge. I really can't be the only one who suffers this. I'll make him a thoroughly regretful man and teach him the painful lesson of the legend that excessive greed leads to disaster.
I clenched my fists with a strong will. I flung open the bathroom door and walked toward him with the weight of a triumphant general.
He was sitting lazily on the sofa, legs crossed, reading the newspaper. I placed my hands on my hips and took a deep breath, intending to burst out in anger.
Noah's eyes narrowed, and he smiled prettily. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, like a cat's.
“Have you showered? I’ll have toast for breakfast. I’ll spread strawberry jam on it.”
“...with peanut butter.”
Like a sandcastle swept away by the waves, despite my hard work, my desire for revenge and resolve vanished. I worried that if I got angry at that pretty boy, I'd end up regretting it, so I decided to wait until next time.
Actually, I can't be mad at that guy.
***
I wore a dress that covered my neck to attend the royal ball that evening. Noah, being the thorough man he is, anticipated this as well, leaving it slightly raised, just enough to be visible if you look closely.
Even wearing a choker doesn't help. It's a brilliant choice of position. Lenny tilted her head, looking at my neck.
“Why is it like this?”
“I got bitten by a mosquito.”
"This winter? That's a big deal. I'll catch it while I clean the room today."
Lenny clenched her fist, determined to catch the mosquito. How cute, how innocent.
There was a knock on the door, as if they knew I was ready, and Noah came in, dressed in a suit and a black balmacaan coat.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mosquito.”
"Mosquito?"
Noah pretended not to notice and fiddled with the cufflinks on his sleeve. Lenny looked at him with a puzzled look.
Noah was definitely right.
The people in the ballroom briefly glanced at the red that appeared above our lapels like a moment of sunrise, then flinched and averted their gaze.
She didn't even remember my face, so even if we met again later, it would be like meeting for the first time. However, Princess Erita, who had come to speak to Noah, glared at my face and neck with red, feverish eyes.
One of the reasons I got a tattoo on my neck was probably because of that woman. It's a very big picture.
I smiled leisurely and lifted my chin. If that's the intention, I'm happy about it. I really hate people coveting what's mine.
The Princess's face turned pale as she stared at Noah, her eyes filled with anger. It seemed she had discovered the same mark on his neck.
I just finished taking revenge on him in the car on the way to Tempshire Palace.
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