I Never Wanted His Child - Chapter 76
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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He scrutinized Emilia as he stood waiting in front of the carriage. His gaze was as strict as assessing an object. It moved from her hat to her face and then to her figure, subtly outlined by the dress.
He found her surprisingly acceptable.
“Tell me where we’re going.”
“You’ll see.”
“Have you sold me off?”
“Would you sell if you were merchandise?”
“The king might want me. After all, you are the king’s loyal hound.”
“From a stallion to a dog, I’ve been demoted.”
“Even that’s giving you too much credit.”
Her words were sharp. Knowing where he was taking her would only intensify her bitterness.
Mikhail watched Emilia as she boarded the carriage without an escort.
Walking to the carriage, he sat opposite Emilia, who sat with her head held high.
The carriage started moving swiftly towards the Elta Club, with both occupants silently staring at each other.
No words were exchanged, but their gazes were more intense than ever.
* * *
The carriage stopped somewhere in the Emmental area of the capital. Mikhail smoothly exited as the coachman opened the door.
Then, he extended his hand to her.
“I don’t need it.”
“It’s not a hand offered out of necessity. It’s for show.”
He grabbed her hand. He pulled her body and brought her into his arms.
Emilia pushed against his chest and finally stood firmly on the ground.
After adjusting her dress, she adjusted her black gloves.
The Rosenmontag street in the Emmental area was lined with various clubs and cafes, among them a particularly famous club.
The Elta Club.
She seemed unaware of their destination until her green eyes landed on the building they had arrived at. Emilia’s expression hardened.
“….This is the Elta Club, isn’t it?”
“Correct.”
Emilia looked at him, puzzled. Mikhail expected such a reaction.
Women were not allowed entry to the Elta Club.
But today was different.
“You know women can’t enter.”
“That used to be the case. But today, it’s possible.”
Mikhail took her hand and looped her arm through his.
“So why…”
“Hold on. It would be wise.”
He casually dismissed her protest and handed the ticket to the doorkeeper.
“I’m sorry, but, Your Grace, women are not allowed.”
“A woman? Where do you see a woman? I’m just adhering to the dress code for today.”
The doorkeeper quickly glanced at Emilia.
After a moment of thought, the doorkeeper said.
“Right. An accessory shouldn’t see, hear, or speak.”
He then pulled a black ribbon from his pocket and blindfolded her.
“This should resolve any problems.”
As if there wouldn’t be any problems!
With her vision completely obstructed, Emilia clung tightly to his arm and lifted her head.
The satin ribbon didn’t hurt, but it was tied so tightly that she couldn’t see anything.
“Duke Heinrich!”
She exclaimed loudly. Mikhail whispered into her ear.
“There are many interesting happenings inside. Aren’t you curious about the discussions? Today, it might be about… the king’s opposition.”
Emilia’s grip on his arm tightened. A hollow laugh escaped her at his bizarre act of treating her as an accessory.
“Ha! You really consider me…”
“It seems there will also be discussions about Duke Loren.”
Emilia bit the inside of her cheek, the impulse to rip off the blindfold and slap him suddenly surged within her.
How much humiliation must she endure for the family that abandoned her, for a father who nonsensically told her to seduce their enemy?
She wanted to scream that she didn’t need this, but the image of her mother sobbing on the floor came to mind.
“….”
She resigned herself. The strength drained from her hands that had been tightly gripping his arm. His smirk seemed to brush past her ear.
“Shall we enter now?”
The sound of the door opening and the ticket being torn was heard.
“You may enter.”
Emilia stepped inside the building, relying entirely on him.
* * *
The air was thick with the scent of pungent cigars. Against a backdrop of subdued music, gentlemen continued their conversations while sipping on drinks.
The news of Mikhail’s arrival caused them all to stretch their necks like turtles, eager to catch a glimpse at the entrance.
Those who had been comfortably seated seemed to lighten as if they wore feathers instead of heavy hips.
“I’ll bet two gold coins he’s wearing a ‘red cravat.'”
“A red cravat for the Duke? Ha, I’ll put ten gold coins on ‘he’ll argue he matched the code with his eye color!'”
“You all don’t know the Duke well. He probably doesn’t care about the dress code at all. He’s more likely to be focused on finding out who played the prank. He’ll treat the club’s rules with disdain.”
“So, how much are you betting?”
“Twenty gold coins! Only then can one be considered a man of true mettle.”
The club members’ eyes sparkled with anticipation, guessing that an interesting event was about to unfold after a long time.
