Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 44
When her shoulders flinched, he shifted his gaze.
“If you’re not hungry, why do you have such a ravenous appetite for everything? Didn’t you learn as a child that you shouldn’t put anything in your mouth that you can’t eat?”
“I haven’t eaten anything today, sir.”
Under the watchful eye of the maids, who insisted on keeping her waist as thin as possible, she sipped only water and tea. When she protested, squinting her eyes in frustration, he snorted.
“I’m not talking about right now. This is quite awkwardly funny.”
“I really haven’t eaten anything.”
Iora blinked, then looked up to see Vigros right in front of her. Could this man be a fairy or something like that? His movements seemed different from an ordinary human, enough to entertain such a whimsical thought.
His hand gently caught the tips of her hair and comfortably wound them around his fingers. She blushed at his overly friendly touch, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he leaned in closer, lowering his head, closing the distance.
‘Sh-should I back away?’
Perhaps realizing the intense battle going on in her head, Vigros stopped and whispered softly.
“Do you enjoy drinking tea, Iora? This is perfect for hiding in tea.”
“Yes? Y-yes, I do. But… why?”
“Your hair has been falling out excessively lately, weight loss, weakness, frequent dizziness, and in severe cases, even coughing up blood. Am I right?”
“H-how do you know that?”
Iora’s eyes widened in astonishment. She hadn’t told anyone that she had been coughing up blood a few days ago, so how could Vigros know about it?
“You’re drinking poison. You clueless girl.”
“…Poison?” she asked in disbelief, the words sinking into her chest like cold daggers.
“So stop your tea-drinking habit—drinking that bland stuff like it’s delicious. If you keep going like this, your pretty hair will turn into a shiny bald head. Don’t believe me? You can keep drinking, but I can’t guarantee what happens next. Don’t regret it later.”
His voice was deliberately playful, as if he was trying to cushion the blow of what he was saying, but he couldn’t calm her trembling heart. Someone had poisoned her, which meant someone was trying to kill her.
‘Who? For what reason? Why? Just me?’
Fear surged within her like she was about to fall off a dark cliff. It felt like an unseen black hand was caressing her skin. The despair, the fear of the unknown, and now someone attempting to kill her?
“Iora. Why weren’t you dancing at the ball?”
His casual question shattered her thoughts, despite the shocking revelation. Lost in a daze, she noticed a lopsided smile tugging at his lips.
“Earlier, you couldn’t even dance properly. A log could dance better than you? Lady Ribandt’s successor? It’s really pitiful…”
“Oh, no!”
He smirked, as if expecting her reaction.
“Were you planning to dance with Ovid? And when you couldn’t, did you make excuses and run away?”
“Th-that’s not it.”
Even if she wanted to dance, there was no one to dance with. The words caught in her throat. Vigros, so handsome, so likely to say the same thing in front of the Emperor, would never understand her situation.—the desire to disappear due to the humiliation and the harsh stares directed at someone who wasn’t beautiful.
As she bit her lip, Vigros lightly touched her lips with his finger, a gesture almost as if warning her not to bite too hard. His fingers moved smoothly, like someone playing a piano, creating a mesmerizing motion before her eyes.
“…What is it?”
“That dance. Will you dance with me?”
“What?”
“It’s surprisingly simple, squirrel. You’re just nervous because you haven’t tried it. Anything new is difficult at first, but once or twice, then ten times, it becomes familiar.”
He’s been calling her some strange names since earlier. Squirrel! Why squirrel? Frowning and frustrated, Iora placed her hand on her waist and sharply retorted, this time without stuttering or taking slow breaths.
“Why am I a squirrel?”
“You’re asking the obvious. It’s because you acted like a squirrel. You were the perfect squirrel.”
“When was that? Don’t make ridiculous jokes. Why are you being so mean!”
“Don’t bother with that nonsense and just answer my question. Don’t you want to? It’s not every day you get to dance with me. You should realize what an honor it is for you.”
She was stunned by his bravado.
“Do you mean to tell me that dancing with you is going to make up for not being able to dance with Prince Ovid?”
“I’m a hundred times better than him, so actually it’s a lot more than you deserve.”
Comparing himself with the prince! Indeed, the dark antagonist was different in every aspect. She felt quite sorry for him, thinking that his unreachable arrogance would turn him into a saintless loser. Her fingertips tingled at the thought that even the most self-important Vigros would fall for Arcanda.
“Go on.”
“Prince Ovid danced really well.”
“And?”
“If you’re terribly inferior, what are you going to do?”
“Then go ahead and make the comparison. Find out for yourself.”
