Chapter 147
A Lover’s Night
The subjugation of demonic beasts.
Just hearing the words would make most people tremble, but for Karsian, it was as natural and familiar as breathing.
Most people feared the massive, dangerous creatures that descended from the Stella Mountains to prey on humans. Karsian had probably feared them too—when he was very young.
But he had held a sword at an age when other children played with balls. He joined the subjugation squad as the youngest member ever and quickly proved his abilities. Until he unwillingly inherited the title of Grand Duke, he lived as the squad’s commander, hunting beasts.
Cutting through hides tougher than any animal’s, avoiding razor-sharp fangs, and driving his blade into their weak points no longer stirred any emotion in him. He didn’t fear going on expeditions, nor did he find them troublesome. It was simply something he was meant to do.
There was something he could never admit aloud—sometimes, he felt the most at ease while fighting beasts. That was how deeply ingrained the work had become.
But this particular expedition felt nothing like before.
“Shoot the arrows at its wings!”
“Yes, sir!”
The operation proceeded as usual. Royster’s knights efficiently handled the tough creatures they had faced every winter, completing the hunt without major injuries thanks to solid command and skilled teamwork.
The only thing different was Karsian’s heart.
Has the subjugation always felt this long and tedious? Even when it dragged on for over a week, it never felt this frustrating…
He was unbearably restless, driven by one thought: finish this as fast as possible and return.
Because this time, someone was waiting for him at the palace. Someone he loved—deeply.
Only now did he truly understand why knights with families became homesick so easily. He couldn’t not understand. He wanted to see Eleanor every minute of every day—and it was driving him insane.
So Karsian finished the expedition faster than ever, forgoing even a moment of rest, and galloped back toward Royster Castle.
Even after passing through the gates, his horse didn’t slow. Some members of the squad panicked at his relentless pace, but Russell only smiled knowingly.
“You’ll understand soon enough,” he murmured cryptically.
Karsian reached Trava Palace in no time. He jumped off the horse and strode inside. The chief butler and head maid, having just realized their master had returned, rushed out to greet him.
“Master, how are you back so—”
Amira approached with a gentle smile, but Karsian passed her without a glance.
It wasn’t because he disliked her. He was simply in a hurry. He wanted—needed—to see Eleanor as soon as possible.
He didn’t even think about changing clothes. Without washing the blood off, still in his armor, he marched straight to the room where Eleanor stayed.
Only when he stood before the door did he finally catch his breath.
“Eleanor, may I come in?”
As soon as he spoke, he heard hurried movement inside. His sharp hearing picked up the light patter of footsteps rushing toward the door.
How can even her footsteps be cute…
Yes, the man was hopeless—but unfortunately, no one in Royster pointed it out.
The large door opened, revealing her small face.
Hair shimmering like moonlight, delicate features set on pale skin, a slender neck like a deer’s, and a body small enough for him to hold in one arm—this was the sight he had ached for, even during the subjugation, even while snatching moments of sleep.
“Karsian?”
Eleanor too looked stunned.
She had just been told he’d entered the castle and was preparing to welcome him—yet here he was already at her door. She couldn’t help her surprise.
Karsian stared, momentarily dazed, at her wide eyes as she looked up at him.
He had lived in Trava Palace for nearly ten years, yet not once had it felt like home. The place was suffocating—a shadow of his late father lingering in every corner.
But now, seeing Eleanor stepping out of the Grand Duchess’s room, something inside him shifted.
For one brief moment, he felt like he had finally come home.
Home, he realized, was simply wherever she was.
“Eleanor.”
He reached out slowly, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.
His normally fierce eyes softened into gentle curves, and the corners of his mouth lifted tenderly.
“I missed you.”
His lips, rougher than usual, pressed firmly onto her forehead like a seal. The faint tickle made her long lashes tremble.
Eleanor bit the inside of her lip, closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. They had kissed passionately before, yes—but such tender, casual touches from him still made her chest tingle unbearably.
“I… missed you too.”
Maybe it was because of how outrageously handsome he looked.
It was the first time she had seen him fully armed. Even dressed in light armor, he looked impossibly striking—hard to believe he had spent days camping outdoors.
“Are you hurt anywhere? There’s blood on you.”
Seeing droplets of dried blood on his skin and armor made worry surge up. He might be the mighty Grand Duke of Royster, but he was still human. If he had been injured fighting demonic beasts…
“Ah—this isn’t mine. I’m perfectly fine.”
Karsian stepped back, almost in alarm.
Only then did he realize his appearance: bloodstained, unwashed, still in armor—and standing so shamelessly before the woman he loved.
He had clearly gone insane. No matter how much she said she liked him, showing up looking like this was mortifying.
“In my haste, I’ve shown you something unsightly. I’m sorry.”
He worried she might be frightened by the blood, or think him unclean.
Eleanor found him… fascinating. Even knowing her difficult past, even knowing how she’d been treated, he still regarded her as precious—more precious than anyone.
It made her grateful, touched, and bewildered. She was certain she was the lesser one between them.
“I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”
She stepped toward him, closing the distance he’d created, and lifted a hand to his cheek—the side stained with blood. She didn’t hesitate.
Then, rising on tiptoe, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek, like a bird pecking.
She had wanted to kiss his forehead like he had done hers, but he was far too tall for that.
“Go wash up slowly. We said we’d have dinner together, remember?”
When she added playfully, “I’m glad you came back in time,” his red eyes wavered faintly.
His Adam’s apple bobbed hard, and heat spread from where their skin had touched.
Eleanor instantly sensed his state. A simple kiss on the cheek—and he reacted as if struck by overwhelming temptation, stiffening visibly.
Her own cheeks flushed hot. She stepped back, trying to look natural. Hilda and Ernst might be waiting inside—they couldn’t act suspiciously.
“…Yes. I’ll be right back.”
Thankfully, he wasn’t completely consumed by impulse. He withdrew obediently.
But watching his retreating back, Eleanor felt a strange certainty.
Something long delayed between them…
would happen very soon.
•••
Another lavish meal was set on the table.
Perhaps because Karsian was dining with her this time, the dishes carried none of the heavy spice she’d endured before. Most were foods familiar to her, and among them, only one was a local Royster specialty.
She almost snorted at the blatant favoritism, but rather than tell Karsian about Amira’s behavior, she focused on enjoying their time together.
They talked about the hunt—whether it was dangerous, what demonic beasts were like, whether their hides or bones were useful. The conversation flew by, and before she knew it, night had fallen.
“Shall we go rest now?”
Thinking he must be tired, Eleanor suggested it first. Karsian nodded and took her hand as if escorting her.
It wasn’t necessary—their rooms were connected by a single powder room.
But his large hand didn’t let go, and she didn’t ask him to.
What felt like a walk she wished would last forever ended quickly. After a few exchanged words, they were already at her door.
Eleanor looked up at him silently. She didn’t want to part yet. They hadn’t been separated for long, and they would see each other again tomorrow—but the calm, quiet night felt strangely precious.
And she wasn’t the only one. Karsian also didn’t mention saying goodnight; instead, he squeezed her hand tightly.
Their slightly breathless gazes met in the cold air.
Her heart pounded faster and faster. Eleanor couldn’t hold back the feeling she had been suppressing.
“…Would you like to come in and talk a little longer?”
She knew what the question could imply. She knew perfectly well—but she lied to herself, pretending ignorance.
She could argue, after all, that with Hilda and Ernst out of the room, it was simply a good time to talk quietly.
“If you’re tired, we don’t ha—”
“I’m not tired.”
He accepted her innocent-but-not-innocent invitation without hesitation.
“Yes. Let’s talk.”
Eleanor nodded, praying he couldn’t hear her racing heartbeat.
As she opened the door and stepped inside, a faint tension ran through her. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to turn around and face him. She searched for something to say, her voice turning overly bright.
“I think there was wine over th—”
But before she could take more than a few steps, he caught her.
A faint, intoxicating scent brushed her nose as a strong arm swept around her, pulling her into him in an instant.
When she opened her eyes, she was trapped in his embrace—warm heat pressed firmly against her back.
“…I warned you many times.”
His deep voice grazed her ear.
“To be careful of me.”
