I Never Wanted His Child - Chapter 30
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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The scent of wet earth mingled with the damp air, as the pouring rain seemed to separate the two individuals.
The sound of the downpour seemed to engulf them, creating an intimate bubble that isolated them from the world. Emilia didn’t shy away from the chilling gaze of his blood-red eyes.
“The king would find this rather amusing. Seems like the duke wants me to tempt him.”
A smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked down at her. His demeanor was cool, but his eyes were intense.
As he took a step closer, the rain pouring over her suddenly halted. Emilia trembled from the cold, exerting all her strength to not give away her fear of being discovered.
“No need for caresses. Even if I were to thrust inside, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’re already soaked.”
Emilia’s lips quiver as they dried up inside her mouth, pale and tightly pressed together.
“If it doesn’t excite you in the slightest, then save those vulgar words for courtesans. Go and find pleasure with them.”
A droplet running down her face from her soaked hair accentuated the contours of her features.
Already drenched, her slender form was revealed beneath the wet dress, her undergarments now visible.
“It didn’t seem that way then, did it? You wept beneath me. Emilia.”
He added, playfully flicking his umbrella backward, causing it to disappear from above her, leaving her to be drenched by the rain once again.
As if reveling in the situation, he took a step back, his smile unwavering as he surveyed her from head to toe, his eyes trailing slowly.
“Try a little harder.”
He remarked, causing Emilia’s face to turn red.
“Who knows, maybe instead of once a week, I’ll embrace you every day, despite my disgust.”
He effortlessly let out the shameful words, standing there as if observing her reaction with slow blinks.
Contrasting sharply with her soaked appearance and the refusal to allow even a single droplet, he held the wide umbrella aloft on him, his own pristine form a stark contrast.
Perhaps it was a reflection of the two of them, she thought, her white shoes now dirtied from treading on the mud.
He glanced at her disheveled footwear.
“Just like you.”
He added, not missing the chance to smirk.
Mikhail walked past her with leisurely steps, as Emilia stood there, taking in the sound of his footsteps rhythmically moving away through the mud.
One step, then another.
As he moved farther, she turned her body. Once again, he seemed unperturbed, displaying his back without a care in the world.
Clenching her fist, she felt the strain in her hand, the sharp pain coursing through her body with each dig of her nails into her palm.
“If you can’t kill me in one go, don’t even bother trying.”
He remarked, turning slightly to look at her. His penetrating gaze made Emilia release the tension in her hand, as if she were a defeated person.
* * *
Mikhail flicked the rainwater off his clothes with his hand and handed the umbrella to the butler before heading towards his study.
“Madam didn’t bring an umbrella either.”
“So what?”
“Can’t you share an umbrella at least?”
“Are you asking me to squeeze that woman under the same small umbrella with me in the same space, even though just the thought of being in the same vicinity as her is repulsive to me?”
For a moment, he remembered the time they had shared an umbrella. The intense scent of roses had assaulted his nostrils, almost giving him a headache.
“If Dahlia continues to act as she pleases, kick her out to Valoh without a second thought.”
“…Are you sure?”
“Do you think I would say something I don’t mean?”
“No, of course not. I’ll make it clear.”
Kartho took Mikhail’s jacket and spoke. He glanced briefly at the front door.
“With the way she’s standing in the rain, Madam will be bedridden for several days given her current condition.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. It gives me a reason not to endure another damn night.”
With those words, Mikhail went into his study. The image of Emilia standing motionless in the rain continued to linger in his mind.
Her red hair soaked in moisture appeared even more vibrant. The thin dress clung to her, revealing her body in its entirety.
Her pointed chest, her pale face chilled by the cold, and her cheeks bearing a light shade of red, contrasting with the heat in her eyes.
He loosened his cravat with his hand, as if trying to alleviate the uncomfortable warmth that seemed to be concentrating below.
“Damn it.”
Whether it was a physical or emotional longing, or perhaps a combination of both, one thing was clear: it was not a good sign for him.
He couldn’t harbor any desires or feelings for her. That would surely be the downfall of both of them.
Mikhail bit his lip and lit a match. When he went to the window to look outside, he saw Emilia still standing motionless in the same spot.
Even from a distance, she was a strikingly beautiful woman. The roses of Loren had particularly sharp thorns.
At that moment, Emilia, standing in the rain, lifted her head and stared at a particular spot. It was Mikhail’s study. Despite the rain pouring down, it seemed as though their gazes were locked together.
