INWY~103

Chapter 103 

Dante, already seated at the table, called out to Riena, who stood stiffly by the wall.

“Come here.”

Her expression soured for a moment, but Riena quickly gathered herself. At last she obeyed quietly and sat across from him.

Even with an extravagant, luxurious feast spread before her, she was the only woman who could wear a face like that. Dante suppressed an amused smile.

“Water? Or wine?”

“…Water, please.”

It was the first time he’d heard her voice in hours. It sounded a little tense, but not enough to bother him.

Dante filled her glass with the drink she chose. Now that he thought about it, even this water held its own memories.

He handed her the shimmering glass and watched her closely. Her lips were downturned as she stared at the plate before her for a long time.

“Looking won’t fill your stomach.”

His tone wasn’t scolding—just a quiet nudge. Only then did Riena lift her fork. She picked up a small cherry first and placed it into her mouth.

The cherry should have tasted sweet and tart, but she felt nothing at all. Still, she forced herself to swallow the crushed fruit.

Then she lifted a piece of softly cooked carrot and placed it on her tongue. It didn’t taste like anything either. She wasn’t hungry, and she had no appetite, but maybe if she ate, that burning gaze—hotter than sunlight—would leave her.

Once she began eating, Dante also picked up his fork and knife and cut into his steak.

Clink. Slice.
The quiet sounds of silverware against china and food being divided filled the silence.

It wasn’t long before the meal—shared without a single word—reached its end. Riena, having eaten no more than a bird’s portion, placed her fork down.

Dante glanced at her plate and lifted one eyebrow. He didn’t like what he saw.

“Eat more.”

His voice was dry and flat.

“…I’m fine. I’m already full.”

Those emotionless words struck Riena’s ears sharply. Her brows drew together slightly as she parted her lips.

So you treat me like an object, and now you care whether I eat?
The insolent thought nearly slipped out.

“I’m truly fine.”

She answered more politely on purpose, then stole a brief glance at Dante’s plate. He, too, had left half of his food untouched.

“Why? Lost your appetite?”

“…No, I just—”

“Ah. Are you pregnant? That would explain the lack of appetite.”

His lips twisted, and a soft, mocking laugh escaped.

Riena didn’t respond. Nor did she flare up. Normally, such rude words would have sparked anger, but not now. She had no desire to get angry at him anymore.

She only knit her brows slightly, like anyone hearing something absurd.

“I told you I wasn’t.”

“You did. Hard to believe, though.”

“How many more times must I tell you no?”

She didn’t raise her voice or lose her temper. Her tone was calm, but her feelings were still hurt.

Dante took a sip of water and dabbed his lips with a napkin before lifting his gaze. His bright golden eyes locked onto her.

“Then instead of just saying it, you could prove it.”

Riena’s expression twisted sharply. At last, a spark of anger.

“What exactly do you want me to prove?”

“How should I know? If you’re so confident, you should figure that out yourself, Riena.”

He pressed her again, as if handing over a choice, though in truth he was cornering her.

Riena bit down on her lip. Frustration swelled, along with exhaustion. They had fought like this more times than she could count, and she was simply tired.

He was relentless, tightening his grip like she was his plaything, manipulating her however he pleased. That was Dante Venachert.

What on earth had I expected from a man like him?
I really must have been blind.

Blinking slowly, feeling her eyes grow tight with irritation, she answered.

“Should I strip and show you my body? Would that satisfy you?”

It was the boldest move she could make. Riena’s gaze locked onto Dante, waiting to see how he’d react.

Would he be startled? No—he never was. Would he get angry instead?

She still hated how much she cared about his reaction.

But Dante only let out a soft, amused laugh after a short silence.

It wasn’t a joke, but he laughed as if she had just told one—lightly, even pleasantly. A laugh too clear for him, echoing across the quiet table.

“Haha… Riena.”

“…”

“You’re quite bold. Fearless, even—in front of me.”

His voice still carried laughter.

“I don’t enjoy looking at skinny bodies. Not my taste.”

The bluntness struck her like a slap. Riena felt heat rush to her cheeks. Her fists tightened beneath the table.

He tells her to prove it—then talks about his tastes?
So the whole “proof” was just another way to pressure her?

Riena still couldn’t predict him. She still didn’t understand him.

Dante leaned back in his chair, his head tilting slightly. He knew she had tried to push back in her own way.

And strangely, though it pleased him, it also irritated him.
A woman who’d once shrieked just from standing in front of him wearing only a robe had just said that?

He regretted asking in the first place.

Dante spoke slowly.

“Stay the night.”

“…Yes. Understood.”

Even though she clearly hated the idea, she still showed that submissive obedience—ready to abandon her own will at any moment. He didn’t like it, but he ignored it.

How long could she keep that up?
Not long. She’d break sooner or later.

Better to cry than to act like this, he thought, smirking inwardly.

***

Heavy, irritated footsteps echoed through the quiet palace corridor.

“Announce me.”

The man’s tone was as sharp as his heels. He jerked his chin toward the attendant, who bowed and knocked on the office door.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, Chancellor Norman requests an audience.”

He had not sent word ahead. Yet he had never been refused—not once. His position always gave him the advantage.

The royal family was not truly at the top of the food chain.

A response soon came from inside, and the attendant opened the door.

Norman strode in without hesitation. His previously twisted expression smoothed into polite courtesy as he bowed.

“Your Highness, I will keep this brief since you seem busy.”

A ridiculous thing to say for someone who had barged in unannounced. But Reichte merely nodded.

“You remember what you told me before, yes? Have you spoken to the Grand Duke?”

Reichte blinked at him, then pulled one corner of his lips sideways.

Ah. Yes. He had said something like that. Only to escape the situation at the time, but…

Still, how could the man be so brazen, acting as though he had entrusted something to him?

But despite his irritation, Reichte answered obediently.

“I have. However…”

His words trailed off.

‘Don’t meddle. Just stay put, Reichte.’

If he wanted me to stay out of this, he should’ve thrown me a bone.
It was infuriating, but right now, he had to survive amid men he had no hope of defeating. Avoiding trouble was all he could do.

“Rather than exchanging a few words with the Grand Duke, it would be faster to confront him directly. But it seems he won’t be returning to Behern anytime soon.”

Reichte forced a smile and handed Norman an elegantly wrapped envelope.

“So… I made a reservation under Miss Anaista’s name. There’s no faster place for young men and women to kindle a spark than a resort.”

Norman snatched the envelope eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

“I’ll have preparations made at once, Your Highness.”

Delighted by the unexpected gain, Norman grinned broadly. Reichte tugged up his own lips in response—a smile just as unpleasant as always.

“Of course. The Grand Duke must marry if Behern is to stabilize, and naturally, he must wed if he wishes to keep his title.”

Reichte wet his lips slightly with his tongue.

In any case, I could never last until autumn.
I’ve done my part. They can survive the rest on their own.