Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 15
For any noble lady, composure and grace must always prevail. They shouldn’t laugh loudly nor cry easily. She must walk with a stiff back and not trot, and her steps must not make noise.
Years of etiquette lessons echoed in Iora’s ears in her mother’s cold voice.
Yet, here she was. She couldn’t believe someone witnessed her crying so uncontrollably!
“Hey, girl. If you’re done crying, can I talk to you? I’ve had something to discuss for a while, but I couldn’t bring it up because you were crying so pitifully. I thought I waited long enough.”
“Hic!”
Iora’s face flushed.
“Okay, that’s enough. Don’t cry like that again, alright? Please, hold it in.”
“Who are you? Oh! D–did you hear…did you hear the whole thing?”
“Hmm, what did you say? Speak up. I was here first. You’re the uninvited guest here.”
The laid-back voice was clearly masculine yet unfamiliar. It had a distinctly unique tone—languid and sultry, akin to a seductive jazz melody.
“Well, that’s true, but normally, it’s polite to at least acknowledge someone’s presence…”
“Speaking of courtesy, you’re soaked in tears as if you’re feasting on your own sobbing. Don’t you think people would have heard you? You’re wildly underestimating the racket you made.”
The stranger’s voice was pleasant, but Iora stiffened. If word of this got out, people would gossip that the Marquise of Ribandt had cried like a broken heart after her audience with the Crown Prince. Her family would pounce on her like ravenous wolves. No, this couldn’t happen. Fear crawled beneath her skin. Iora, consumed by anxiety, started habitually nibbling on her nails.
“Um, what you saw here… Are you going to tell anyone? … No, no. If you promise not to speak of it, I can offer plenty of compensation…”
While thinking about who to persuade him, a bare white foot popped out from a tree and dangled above her head. It was an exquisitely bare foot.
“Compensation, huh? Well, what could be a good way to keep my mouth shut about your comings and goings?”
Iora gasped in astonishment. A bare foot? Could it be that they were up there without even wearing shoes?
It was even more outrageous when she remembered that this was a strict Imperial Palace. The Emperor himself wouldn’t dare do such a thing. The man, seemingly unaware of her bewilderment, lazily swayed his fair and delicate foot and spoke in a casual tone.
“Hey, girl. Do you want me not to spread rumors?”
“…Yes. I don’t want you to.”
“Good. Then throw me an apple.”
Iora sadly nodded her head. An apple for the sake of silence… What?
“Huh?”
“Give me an apple.”
Looking up as if in disbelief, Iora stared at the teasingly playful, exceptionally large and elegant foot swaying in the air. She cast a rather resentful look at that foot. What a ludicrous and tasteless jest at such a moment.
“Um, please stop joking around… And I’d appreciate it if I could at least see your face and talk…”
“Why? Do you find my foot ugly? I’ve been told they’re quite pretty. I guess you must have unique tastes.”
“…”
“You’re suddenly looking like you’re chewing on something nasty.”
Engaging in conversation while looking only at the foot didn’t feel as pleasant as one might think. What Iora didn’t realize was that all the previous negative thoughts, worries, fears, resentments, and heartbreaks that had been building up in her mind were slowly being swept away.
Though somewhat suffocating, Iora managed to muster some strength in her voice amid the swarming thoughts.
“It’d be great if you stopped joking. I’m speaking seriously right now…”
“So am I. No need for long speeches, just throw me an apple. I’m not kidding, girl.”
“Why in the world would you request an apple of all things…”
Feeling unjustly pressured, as she was about to raise her voice, Iora’s tone soon faltered. Now that she noticed, all the densely packed trees around were actually apple trees.
“Ah.”
So, there were apples everywhere. They were all quite tall, and there was no way a noblewoman in a heavy dress could have plucked such ripe fruit.
Seeing her woeful expression, the man chuckled.
“No need to despair so much. The apple may be surprisingly close at hand. I’m not going to ask you to climb a tree in that dress. I’m not some pervert who likes tormenting others.”
“Huh?”
“Doesn’t your leg feel uncomfortable? Take a good look.”
“What?”
He laughed as if he were playing a harp — it was very elegant and subtly sensual. Iora shivered at the thought of what kind of laughter it might be. Each time his voice reached her ears, it felt like a sweet melody tickling her eardrums.
The white foot swayed playfully, and following the man’s voice, Iora discovered an unfamiliar object beside her leg. Her eyes sparkled like a child who had discovered treasure.
“Oh! You’re right!”
It was a temptingly ripe, bright red apple with a shimmer that resembled silk.
“There really is an apple here!”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
The owner of the foot warmly greeted Iora, looking at the apple in her hand. The wiggling toes seemed insistent.
“Throw me that apple!” the man said. “That apple was the result of a whopping two hours of waiting.”
“What? Two hours…?”
“That’s right, two hours. I was singing my heart out and shaking branches with my foot for two whole hours. Then finally, as a lady dashed in and tumbled over, that one apple dropped. Can you imagine how I felt, waiting and waiting for that moment?”
“…”
Although his tone wasn’t refined, the man’s voice carried a certain wistfulness. Honestly, the story of a man wasting two hours picking apples with his toes felt like a joke to Iora.
Nervously, she tossed the apple in his hand up the tree, and a large, white hand, as fine as the foot, gently snatched it away. Soon, rustling sounds as if clothes were being wiped were followed by a crisp crunching sound.
