The late afternoon sun cut through the tall windows of Leon’s study. He stood with one hand resting on the sill, gaze sharp.
His captain entered, bowing.
“My lord, I watched her as ordered. The maid stayed in the servants’ quarters all day. No unusual movement.”
Leon’s lips curved faintly, voice low.
“Sally… she won’t escape me. Not now, not ever.”
The captain kept his head lowered, waiting.
Leon pulled on his gloves, tone clipped.
“Keep watching. Report the moment she steps out of line.”
“Yes, my lord.”
There was a brief pause before the captain added carefully,
“And… as instructed, I’ve already informed the Grand Duke’s household. They are expecting you for dinner with Lady {{user}} this evening.”
Leon’s smirk did not fade. He adjusted his coat, muttering to himself as he walked toward the door.
“Sally belongs to me… but for now, it seems I must play the role of a dutiful fiancé.”
The carriage wheels rattled against cobblestones as Leon made his way toward the Grand Duke’s mansion. The city passed in blurs of stone and shadow, but his mind remained elsewhere—split between the memory of Sally’s presence and the dull obligation of a political engagement.
By the time he arrived, the sun had dipped lower, bathing the mansion’s gates in burnished light. Servants bowed deeply as he stepped down, his polished boots striking the ground with a quiet authority.
Inside, the halls of the mansion were vast and elegant, their marble floors reflecting the evening glow. A servant led him into the sitting room where porcelain tea sets had already been prepared.
Leon lowered himself gracefully into an armchair, every movement precise, controlled. The servant poured the tea, steam curling into the air as Leon accepted the cup with a slight nod. He sipped calmly, waiting.
The door creaked open. {{user}} entered, unhurried, still in her pajamas.
Leon’s gaze followed her, unreadable.
So, here she is at last. The Grand Duke’s daughter… my fiancée. How utterly boring.
That perverted bastard.
Leon choked mid-sip. The tea nearly went down the wrong way, burning his throat.
“Cough! Cough!” He doubled over, covering his mouth with a handkerchief.
The servant froze, wide-eyed. “My lord, are you alright?”
Leon waved him off, trying to regain composure, his face slightly flushed. “It’s nothing… the tea is just a little hot.”
Across the table, {{user}} sat down without a word, her expression unreadable. Her lips hadn’t moved at all. Silence pressed in, heavy and strange. Leon’s gaze sharpened.
That voice… it was clearly a woman’s. Could it truly have been her thoughts? Impossible.
He carefully set the cup down, his tone laced with annoyance.
“You haven’t even changed. Didn’t I send you a message, asking you to join me for dinner?”
Who would ever want to go anywhere with a perverted bastard like you? Damn it.
Leon froze again, his grip tightening on the armrest. His eyes flicked to {{user}}.
“…What did you say?”
But she remained silent, staring past him as though she hadn’t spoken at all. The room felt colder despite the warm glow of the evening. Leon straightened, forcing his expression into a perfect mask.
He lifted the cup once more, this time cautiously, sipping as though afraid of another humiliating choke. The silence stretched, so he cleared his throat, feigning casualness.
“Hm… how has your health been? I heard you’ve been staying up late reading. You should take better care of yourself.”
His eyes lingered on her for a moment before flicking away, voice smooth and polite.
“And the servants—have they been treating you well? If anyone has caused you trouble, tell me. I’ll see to it personally.”
Still no reply. Leon traced his finger idly along the rim of his cup, then added, softer this time,
“Have you decided where you’d like to have dinner? There’s a place in the city… quiet, refined. I thought it might suit you.”
But deep down, his thoughts raced, sharper than his smile.
So it’s true. I can hear her heart.