My Vengeful Former Lover - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Deatrice could no longer gauge the depths of his character based on what she previously knew about him. No matter how slow she walked, sooner or later, she still would arrive at her destination. She had even felt that the distance had been significantly shortened when she was musing to herself.

As she pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, she saw him sitting in her chair at her little table with a finger to his chin, as if waiting for her to arrive.

“You’re here?” a flat voice uttered.

Lucius sat languidly, and his dress shirt and sleeves were already unbuttoned, revealing the middle of his chest. His expression seemed intoxicated already, but his tone wasn’t the least bit slurred nor was his face flushed.

He poured a glass of wine and pushed it towards her.

“Try this. It’s wine from the East.”

She sat slowly across from him, hiding her trembling fingertips. “No, thank you. I have drunk enough earlier.”

“Really?” he cocked an eyebrow. “Then, why did it take you such a long time to come here? I almost fell asleep waiting for you.”

In fact, he really looked sleepy.

Deatrice scrutinized his face. Half-wishing he would simply fall over and go to sleep, and half-worrying that he would actually fall asleep.

She didn’t want to spend the night with him, but she also didn’t want to be called an awful wife by spending their first night together doing practically nothing.

“Will you go to sleep, then?”

Hearing the anxious tone in her question, Lucius laughed softly and said something else. “I did a little tour of your room before you came.”

“…what?”

“I had nothing to do and one of the servants told me that this used to be your room, so I looked around for a bit.”

She wondered what was there to look at in this room.

Of course, he wouldn’t have rummaged through her drawers, but the mere presence of him in the place where she had spent her maiden years made her feel that her privacy had been invaded.

She suggested that they use a guest room for the wedding night, but her aunt was against it, saying she couldn’t let the couple spend their night in such a tasteless area where unrelated people would stay.

Lucius, unaware of the thoughts in her head, said as his posture turned lax.

“They say you could figure out a person’s character by looking at their rooms. But looking at this place, as neat and ordinary as it appears with no suspense whatsoever, I would say it isn’t entirely true.”

“Disappointed?”

“It’s not like that.” Lucius lightly waved his hand, “But when we were dating, I used to pretty much imagine your room to be… more than this. When I couldn’t reach you because you were sick or when I took out a letter from you, I—”

His heart pounded.

In his mind, he was looking at their past, but there wasn’t much emotion in his voice. I was as if he was just scouring meaninglessly through the burned ashes of a precious memento to see if there were any scraps left that he could salvage.

And he found none.

Deatrice looked down at him, feeling worn out.

The longer he spoke, the clearer it was that he wasn’t sober.

How long would his drunken attitude last?

After that, he brought up more stories about her and out of nowhere, would randomly insert stories about him and his knights. When he felt that the food was too unappetizing, he would tilt his glass of wine and down them in one go.

Eventually, she’s had enough of it.

Just as she was about to leave, Lucius frowned and shook his head. He got up and sat on the bed, then he patted the mattress right beside him and called her.

“Come here.”

It sounded like he was calling his dog, sweet and slightly authoritative.

With a sigh, Deatrice went to where he was pointing and obediently sat down. He looked at her blankly for a long time without saying a word.

Her wavy hair and the baby strands that curled against her forehead, the rosiness of her cheeks, and those little beads of sweat that caused a light sheen to appear on her skin…

Caught in a stupor, Lucius spoke drunkenly.

“For a period of time, you appeared in my dreams… every day.” His words were so sudden that it felt like something had managed to stab a corner of her heart and the tingling sensation in her stomach wasn’t helping either.

Not knowing what to say, she remained frozen.

Suddenly, he raised his hand and his gesture toward her made her grit her teeth. But then, a gentle hand briefly swept through her hair, then it headed towards the tie that kept her cloak together.

Swiftly, the strings were untied, and the heavy fabric slid down to reveal the thin linen nightgown she wore specifically for this night. The almost transparent cloth was tinted with a yellowish hue from the candles that lit the room, illuminating her skin.

His half-lidded eyes slowly trailed down her body, his gaze bore into her skin like he could see her bare body through her slip, and it gave her goosebumps.

The fingers that ran along her neck were tentative… exploring the feel of her skin against his, and it glided slowly down to her clavicle with a soft caress.

Deatrice felt her body become hotter as his touch became more intimate, but she had no intention to stop him.

For her, this night was some sort of quest she had to endure.

But, when she suddenly lifted her head, she realized that his eyes that gazed upon her were as empty and lifeless as the feeling she had the moment she noticed it.

She abruptly stopped his hand.

Lucius looked at the hand that grabbed his wrist and switched his attention to her face. He stared at her for a brief moment before he stood up in a tipsy manner and went to where his clothes were placed.

Fumbling for something, he pulled out a small dagger.