Chapter 48

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 48

Chapter Title: Why Did You Grope My Thigh?

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‘That’s entirely possible.’

His green eyes darkened.

‘It doesn’t seem like the kind that threatens life.’

The one silver lining was that no one in the imperial palace would use a lethal dose of poison unless you carried your liver around outside your body.

After all, there had been no shortage of people branded as traitors just for bringing suspicious items into the palace.

Kaian’s expression hardened as he fell silent. That left only one possibility.

‘A drug that induces mental issues.’

If that was the case, it could even be considered a clever move.

Making a mistake in front of imperial family members was a straight path to death.

Having reached his conclusion in short order, Kaian ignored the persistent sensation on one thigh as best he could and spoke up instead.

“April Pepper. A distant branch of the Brail ducal family.”

April’s hands came to an abrupt halt.

So she really did need help?

As the misunderstanding deepened endlessly, the duke began shielding her with all his might to prevent any careless slip-ups.

Of course, in the process, he ended up portraying the perfectly fine April as utterly deranged against his better judgment…

At some point, the odd sensation on his thigh had quieted down as well.

“Boring.”

Fortunately, the crown prince seemed to have lost interest too.

Kaian watched Raiden reach for his cold tea with a bored expression, finally relaxing as he turned to April.

But.

‘Hm…?’

Something was off with April.

Her eyes were fixated obsessively on the empty table, her slightly parted lips on the verge of drooling.

As if she’d completely lost her mind.

‘Narcotics.’

A name popped into his head—one for a poison that caused similar symptoms.

Royphin flower extract? Parnax? Datina raw liquid?

If that was it, they couldn’t afford to sit around so calmly.

Growing urgent, Kaian feigned composure as he rose to his feet.

“We’re grateful for your hospitality, but thanks to Her Highness the Empress’s aid, the artists can continue their work even within the palace… so we’ll take our leave.”

As his eyes met the crown prince’s, Kaian lowered his gaze nonchalantly.

“…Fine. Go ahead.”

Whether his interest had truly vanished, Raiden’s easy permission followed. Kaian turned away, his own eyes darkening.

‘Whoa, what a relief.’

Thanks to the duke’s brilliant performance, the tea time—which had been nothing but awkward—wrapped up surprisingly quickly.

Now, all that was left was fleshing out the massive idea that had just popped into her head!

She poured all her effort into suppressing her trembling lips, lest her laughter burst out.

‘Maybe catch a quick nap first.’

But the moment she pictured her wide, plush bed while stepping out of the crown prince’s palace—

Whoosh.

Her wrist was seized without warning.

“Huh?”

“Head back first.”

The owner of that hot, firm grip was the duke.

As she blankly stared at her captured arm, a cold command flowed from him.

“I… have something to discuss with April alone.”

What was this situation?

It was bewildering enough that he’d casually dismissed the others, but one word stood out, embedding itself clearly in her ears.

‘April.’

Given the palace walls had ears, he’d opted for her name instead of “Princess” this time…

‘Feels kinda weird.’

But what did he want to say?

As she watched the others’ retreating backs and was about to turn to the duke with a question—

“Wha-wha-what?”

Drag, drag, drag.

She was pulled away somewhere before she could react.

“D-Duke?”

The duke strode ahead with his long legs, ignoring her calls entirely.

And he headed toward an increasingly deserted area.

‘There’s a place like this in the palace?’

By the time they reached a forgotten corner of the palace where even servants rarely passed, she couldn’t hide her puzzled expression.

These scenarios usually popped up in one of two genres.

One: steamy romantic intrigue.

…Two: bloody horror thriller.

The duke wasn’t about to kill her, so it had to be the former?

Ever since realizing just how handsome he was, these pointless fantasies kept creeping in.

‘Wall slam, kiss…’

Of course, if a guy this gorgeous harbored dark desires for her, she wouldn’t mind—but it was awfully sudden.

When had he started feeling this way? Had he realized his possessiveness the moment the crown prince eyed her as talent?

Lost in pink-tinted delusions without grasping the situation, a stiff voice reached her ears.

“Princess.”

“…Yes?”

The mood shifted in an instant.

Just like her fantasies, she’d been backed against the wall unwittingly. She looked up at his face in a daze.

Thump, thump.

Her heart pounded loudly, her face heating up bit by bit—then the duke spoke.

“What did you eat that was bad?”

“Huh?”

She could only blurt out a foolish response.

Bad food out of nowhere?

‘What did I eat today…?’

She vaguely recalled garlic in the morning meal…

But she’d brushed her teeth meticulously beforehand, since she was meeting the crown prince of a nation.

“I think I ate the same menu as you, Your Grace… bread, soup, sauce with garlic? Do I smell or something?”

She shot him a desperate look, begging for denial.

If she’d stunk up the place in front of the crown prince, it’d fuel blanket-kicks for the next three thousand years.

But the duke just stared at her steadily, no reaction.

‘Then what did I spill?’

She reflexively scanned her clothes.

But her pale beige dress was spotless.

Bonita had even hinted recently that she seemed prone to spilling food.

Having checked even her sleeves just in case, she couldn’t control her flushing cheeks and bowed her head.

Truth be told, toward the end of tea time, she’d been so fixated on the tumbler idea that she barely registered the duke and crown prince’s conversation.

Had she messed up without realizing?

“Do I seem like I’m asking because of a smell?”

“Then what’s it about?”

This wasn’t twenty questions. She pouted at the riddle-like barrage.

Then she recalled his demeanor when speaking for her.

…No way?

“…You mean, like, have I gone mad?”

“So you knew that much.”

No wonder he kept painting her as a lunatic in front of the crown prince.

Self-loathing welled up, crumpling her face—then a deflating sigh came from above.

“Ha.”

Glancing up unwittingly, the duke wore an indescribable expression.

Was that oddly relieved look on his face her imagination?

As she pondered that silliness, she suddenly realized her wrist was still in his grasp.

The moment she felt their touching warmth, her face ignited like fire.

“Um, but…”

“Hm?”

“Could you let go of this…?”

“Ah, right.”

Her trailing words were nearly a mumble, but he caught them somehow and released her sweltering wrist.

An awkward silence followed.

“Anyway.”

Cough, cough.

Stepping out from under his shadow, she offered a belated explanation.

“It’s not like I ate something bad or anything. I did zone out a bit midway, but…”

Whatever the misunderstanding, she figured she’d amply proven her sound mind and quietly closed her mouth.

The duke eyed her with a strange gaze.

As if he had a lot he wanted to say.

‘Is there more he wants to talk about?’

Just as the mood grew ever more peculiar, making her uneasy, he asked in all seriousness.

“Then why were you groping my thigh like that?”