 Chapter 104
She had expected it, but there was no way sleep would come.
If she werenât forcing her eyes shut, she would have been staring blankly at the patterns on the ceiling all night.
After dinner, Dante had gone back to his office alone.
While he was away, Riena had washed up, only to step out of the bathroom and find a neatly folded set of undergarments and pajamas placed by the door.
There was only one person here who could have ordered that: Dante Venachert.
If someone misunderstood, it could easily spread that a woman is staying in the master room of the resortâs owner.
What was he thinking, doing something like this?
That had been barely an hour ago.
Now Riena lay alone in the darkened bedroom.
Maybe I should have stayed in the living room.
Or gone to the office and just sat quietly.
She didnât want to meet him.
She didnât want to sleep beside him.
That was why she tried to fall asleep firstâbut instead of sleep, her eyes only grew wider and clearer.
Drowsiness had fled long ago.
Worse, her head was buzzing with every kind of thought, most of them circling back to Dante.
Crazy man. Completely insane.
She muttered inwardly as she replayed the things he had said and done.
And then came the regret.
If she had known from the beginning what kind of person he really wasâ
If she could go back to that momentâ
She would never have jumped into that carriage.
No⌠even if she had, she wouldnât have asked him for help like that.
She wouldnât have acted like his wife, wouldnât have expected anything, wouldnât have been disappointed by himâŚ
Riena squeezed her already closed eyes even tighter.
If she could, she would erase her past completely.
âToday⌠canât we have lunch together? The garden is full of flowers. Lady Margaret said we can even dine outsideââ
âI donât want to eat surrounded by flowers.â
ââŚThen we can just eat in the dining room.â
âHa. Canât you see Iâm busy? Get out.â
He hated flowers as much as he hated the ocean.
Her father, a commoner-turned-navy sailor, had died at sea.
Though they called it âdeath in service,â the truth was that someone else had driven him to it.
The royal family and nobles had charged in, eager to kill one insignificant commonerâand the result had been the death of his mother.
He could still remember the flowers scattered over her coffin.
At least he hadnât been born yet when his father died.
The nanny who raised him after his mother passed away had died tooâkilled on her way back home after retirement.
Too many lives had been lost because of one unlucky man.
A half-orphaned royal childâperfect gossip fodder for nobles, and an easy target for commoners who loved to pity him for the sake of feeling superior themselves.
His childhood passed in that miserable, unlucky way.
Dante exhaled a long breath of cigar smoke.
The damned past he hadnât thought about for years was suddenly resurfacing.
Lover, navy, tragic deathâŚ
Words that annoyingly overlapped with his current situation.
A strange, uneasy feeling crept up his spine.
He flicked the ash off his cigar, took another drag, then crushed the tip into the ashtray.
But none of that would happen again.
Not as long as he was watching.
He opened the office window to air out the smoke lingering in his clothes, then headed back toward the master room.
The entire suite was silent.
Dante frowned and went straight to the bathroom.
Only faint warmth lingered thereâempty.
She wouldnât simply go to sleep first. Not with her personality.
He tilted his head slightly, then opened the study door.
Empty.
His footsteps grew a little impatient as he walked to the dining room.
Also empty.
Grinding his teeth, Dante felt the muscles in his jaw twitch.
Returning to the living room, he immediately checked the windows.
Thankfully, the large windowâfar too large for its own goodâwas still shut.
She couldnât leave this place.
The master roomâs entrance was locked from the outside, accessible only to a few staff members.
Then⌠could it beâ
Dante suddenly lifted his head and strode forward.
He carefully opened the bedroom doorâ
âand let out a small breath of laughter.
Riena was lying there, fast asleep.
The stiffness in his neck melted away.
âRiena.â
He finally spoke the name he hadnât called while frantically checking every room.
As he took slow steps forward, his expression softened.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the sight of Riena sleepingâher quiet, steady breathsâfilled him with strange relief and satisfaction.
âYou fell asleep early.â
He tugged the corner of his mouth upward and sat on the edge of the bed.
She didnât stir, even though the mattress dipped under his weight.
He simply looked at her for a long time, blinking slowly.
Her gentle breathing seemed to ease something inside him.
He felt strangely weak, unguarded.
She had slept here before, yesâ
but still, how could she sleep so defenselessly?
The absurdity made soft, incomplete laughter slip from his lips.
Dante slowly lifted his hand.
With the back of his fingers, he brushed her cheek.
She didnât wake.
Once Riena fell into deep sleep, nothing could wake her.
âRiena,â he whispered againânot to wake her, just to say her name.
Her skin was warm from sleep, flawless and soft.
He had touched those cheeks countless times, and yetâ
He gently stroked her face, then brushed aside the strands of hair scattered across her forehead.
âSleep well.â
The words were whispered so softly that even he found himself ridiculous.
***
A few days passed in a blur.
The resort was still overflowing with guests, and Dante remained buried in work.
Still, thanks to the administrative staff sent from Behern Palace, he managed to steal short moments of rest.
And whenever he did, he went to see Riena in the master room.
They ate meals together when he could.
When she read in the study, he quietly sat beside her and watched her.
Since bringing her here, Dante had not allowed Riena to leave.
She seemed to have adjusted somewhat; the sharpness she showed in the beginning had softened.
Ordinary days.
Quiet, uneventful days.
Or so it seemed.
âWho made this reservation?â
His irritated voice sliced through the air of his office like ice.
