Chapter 55
“No. Nothing happened.”
“Then… are you moving away? Where? Back to the capital?”
Sharon fired questions like a flood bursting from a dam. Riena only gave a faint smile.
“Calm down. It’s nothing like that. I just…”
Her voice trailed off. After a pause, she let out a small, awkward laugh.
“…I just want to take a break. Clear my head for a while. Maybe travel somewhere nearby. You know, it’s been almost a year since I came here, and yet all I’ve done is work. I haven’t even seen Florian properly.”
The excuse was reasonable enough that Sharon faltered. She nodded reluctantly, though her face remained sour.
Not that she didn’t believe Riena… but for this not to be about fighting with the Grand Duke? That was hard to accept.
“Then what about the café? What about me, Riena?”
“I’m sorry. I know it’ll be busy with summer coming.”
“What if you just take a month off instead? You don’t have to quit completely, do you?”
Sharon clung to her, anxious and restless. But Riena only shook her head, smiling with quiet regret.
“I’m sorry. I’ll tell the mayor myself.”
Her firm tone left Sharon crestfallen. At last, she gave in with a deep sigh, nodding miserably.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll tell my father. He hasn’t been in the best spirits lately, anyway.”
Sharon waved a hand weakly, her shoulders drooping. The little café by Florian’s coast belonged to her father—Mayor Lester.
“Really? Is he unwell?”
“I don’t know. A few days ago, he rushed off somewhere for days and nights. Ever since, he’s seemed down. I’m sure he’ll be fine soon.”
She shrugged, as if it wasn’t serious, but then her face fell again.
“Riena, you’re not moving away, right?”
“Of course not.”
“You’ll come visit the café often?”
“I promise.”
Riena laughed softly and nodded. The answer eased Sharon’s worry a little.
“Then, in exchange for quitting… let’s drop the formal speech. Call me just Sharon, okay?”
Seizing her chance, Sharon blurted it out. She puffed her cheeks like a sulking child, her eyes shining with mischief.
Riena froze for a heartbeat, then curved her lips into the smallest smile.
“All right, Sharon. Thank you—for everything.”
Riena walked slowly along the coastal road, lost in thought.
Today marked her last day at the café. Sharon had insisted she needn’t worry, that she could leave right away without waiting for a replacement.
Truthfully, quitting had been half an impulse. She had started working there to finally live a little on her own terms—for once in her life. Ending it this way felt strangely fitting.
Of course, the real reason was simpler: she wanted to avoid meeting him again.
Nearly two months had passed since she first ran into the Grand Duke. Spring had turned to early summer. Soon enough, months would blur by, and before the year ended…
Riena pressed a hand against her chest where her heart once ached. The pain came more often now, though oddly, the blood-stained coughs had almost stopped. For a while she had even fooled herself into thinking she was getting better.
But it was only a fragile hope. The stabbing pain in her chest was proof enough.
Each time it struck, she felt it—the certainty that her life was running out.
And so, every night, she had prayed for one thing: that the Grand Duke would return to the capital. That he would leave this place, so she could breathe again.
Until just days ago, that had been her constant wish.
“Your worth is mine to decide. Until then, don’t speak of vanishing, don’t ask to be cast aside. Don’t even dream of running away. This time, I’ll catch you no matter what.”
She had endured his scorn, his cruel words, because she believed she was worthless to him. And worthless things were the ones Grand Duke Venachert discarded without hesitation—that was what made him a ruthless businessman.
She had thought even if he raged at her lies and her escape, it would soon pass. He was always too busy to care for long.
That’s what she had believed.
But instead, he kept coming. Again and again. Almost as if he had cast aside his very title just to torment her.
And she… she had let herself hope.
Maybe his persistence meant something more. Maybe he still couldn’t let go of his first love.
She had let herself be glad when he came. Glad when he reached out.
And she had been wrong.
If only she had realized sooner that it was nothing but another way to bind her, another trick to keep her close.
Where had she gone wrong? When she lashed out at him? When she slapped him in a moment of madness?
It didn’t matter. He had always been the same—mercilessly economical, never paying even the smallest price to make her suffer.
If only she had woken sooner from her foolishness.
Her steps slowed. She lifted her head, gazing at the gray sky.
But would it have changed anything?
There was nowhere left to run. This southern port city was already the edge of the kingdom. Beyond the sea lay only foreign lands.
Plop.
A cold drop struck her cheek. Then another.
Drip. Drip.
The drizzle swelled quickly into a heavy downpour.
Shhhh—!
The sound of rain pounded like waves on the sea. The sky darkened, pouring as though the heavens themselves had cracked open.
People scattered, dashing for shelter. But Riena just stood there, unmoving.
Rain streamed down her face, mixing with the sting in her eyes. Oddly, it cleared her head.
In the end, she thought, the fault had always been hers.
“Live as Rena.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t move the grave. You can live here.”
He had given her chances. Twice. In the past, and now again. It had been her choice each time.
And both times, she had wasted it.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips.
Foolish Riena. Stupid Riena.
The self-loathing she thought she had buried clawed its way up again, bitter and fast.
She hadn’t changed at all. Not one bit.
“Still the same, Riena.”
Thump.
Something settled above her head. The rain stopped streaming down her face. And with the wet, earthy smell of the storm came the faint, unmistakable scent of lavender.
“Trying to catch a cold now? I didn’t know you liked being sick.”
“…Is it you again, Your Grace?”
She didn’t lift her head. She just stared at the vest and tie darkened by rain, her voice low.
“Why? Afraid I’ll run away?”
“Still defiant. I suppose your mood won’t soften so easily.”
His tone was sly, crooked, almost playful. But she didn’t have the will to challenge it.
“…I’m not running. You know I have nowhere to go.”
“If I thought you might run, I’d have sent men to drag you back. Do you think I’d come here myself? Truth is, seeing you now isn’t exactly pleasant for me either.”
Then why?
Her brows furrowed. At last, she lifted her gaze.
His golden hair, usually swept back so neatly, hung in wet strands across his face. Rain ran down his sharp features, making him squint. He glared at her, his eyes narrowed against the storm.
Riena’s lips parted, a faint breath slipping out.
“…Is standing in the rain one of Your Grace’s hobbies?”
“What?”
“Why else? You hate me, and I can’t run away. So why else stand here with me like this?”
Her words were sharp, provocative.
Dante tilted his head slightly, golden eyes gleaming.
“No, it’s not a hobby. Yes, it’s because of you. So if I’m going to stand here and get drenched, you’d better make it worth it. Cry for me.”
“…What?”
Her lips parted in disbelief. His answer made no sense.
Dante gave a small sigh, as if he’d expected this.
“You don’t cry easily, do you? Not unless…”
He stepped closer.
His hand shot out, tilting her chin upward, forcing her to look at him.
“…Not unless it’s from something as simple as a kiss.”
Her brown eyes shook violently. His tongue flicked across his lips as his mouth curved in a half-smile.
Yes. This face—this trembling, vulnerable face—was the one worth seeing.
His gaze swept over her features, lingering.
Her lashes clumped with water. Her eyes narrowed, stung by rain. Her brows pinched faintly. The small curve of her nose. And—
Her lips. Red and wet, always spilling foolish words.
His golden eyes darkened, their glow deepening like molten metal.
After a long moment, he spoke.
“I’ll kiss you. So cry for me—until I’m satisfied.”
What did he just say?
Riena blinked, stunned, her mind blank.
But it was too late.
Before she could resist, Dante’s lips descended on hers.
