Misunderstanding

It was a dark night with no moon in sight. After contemplating throughout the evening, Dahlia walked to the table beneath the window, lit a candle, and took out some stationery.

Her purple eyes, full of seriousness, shimmered softly in the candlelight.

"Ha..."

Her head throbbed so badly it felt like it might burst.

Even as the candle burned halfway down, she continued to hold and release her quill repeatedly. Thoughts of Rosé refused to leave her mind.

Dahlia, her head buried between her arms like a statue, finally lifted her gaze. It seemed she had organized her thoughts, as she began to carve letters onto the empty sheet of paper.

She must have been deeply absorbed in writing, but after some time, she recalled the events of the afternoon as she had to offer some comfort. With a stiff expression, she put down her pen.

Then, she carefully scanned what she had written, muttering in a worried tone.

"Ha... I don't know if this will be of any comfort..."

After Rosé fled the party in such a way, Dahlia could no longer enjoy the event with a happy heart.

So, she immediately approached the host, the Marchioness, and informed her that she would be leaving early.

"Madam, the party has only just begun. Are you sure you want to leave? Is there something wrong...?"

"Apologies, but I did not find the gift you gave me to my liking. I can no longer stay here."

"Excuse me? What do you mean...?"

''What? What do you mean..."

"I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you. The young lady, Rose Hertz, whom you embarrassed, is my close friend. Does that explain things?"

"No, Duchess... wait a moment. Let me speak.."

"I'm tired. I assume you understood, and I hope there will be no unfortunate incidents like today in the future. I'll be leaving now."

The Marchioness of Landrofil was quite an influential figure in society. That means, there was no benefit in cutting ties with her.

However, she didn't want to associate with someone who would behave so childishly toward another person.

That was one of the things she couldn't tolerate. That's why, despite knowing there might be consequences, she said it.

Still, Dalia didn't regret what she said. If she had overlooked the wrong, it would have only brought her greater guilt.

As such, Dalia was recalling the events of the day.

"What are you thinking?"

Startled by Clayton's sudden voice, she quickly turned her head.

It seemed like he had just come out of the shower, as he stood behind her wearing a bathrobe, droplets of water clinging to the ends of his disheveled hair.

"Ah... I was just thinking about what happened at the Marquis' house earlier..."

"Earlier?"

"Yes. I don't plan on attending the Marchioness of Landrofil's parties anymore. I didn't know she was the type to treat people like that."

Clayton furrowed his brow and tilted his head. He couldn't understand why Dalia was so upset.

Did the Marchioness of Landrofil treat her rudely?

Well, as far as he knew, that hadn't happened. The Marchioness wasn't someone so foolish and oblivious to propriety that she would disturb the Duchess's mood in a public setting.

'Then it must be because of that woman.'

He had heard from Dalia about what Rose Hertz went through at the party. But if you think about it, it was Rose who went through it, not Dalia herself.

Clayton, who had been silently listening to Dalia, hung the wet towel on a chair and gestured toward the letter she was writing.

"What's that?"

"Oh, I was writing a letter to Rose. I feel bad about how she left the party earlier. She must have been very upset."

As soon as the topic of Rose came up, Dalia's expression became solemn again.

"Just wait a little. I'll be done after one more sentence..."

Dalia, who had been responding with a worried tone, couldn't finish her sentence. Clayton had already removed the letter before she could finish speaking.

Dalia instinctively furrowed her brow, and her straight nose wrinkled as well. Looking up at Clayton with eyes that demanded an explanation, he bent down and buried his face beneath her neck.

"Dalia, do you realize that lately, every topic of our conversation has been about Rose Hertz?"

"No..."

"Anyone would think your husband is Rose Hertz."

Every time Clayton whispered, the warm breath on her neck sent a tickling sensation.

At the same time, his arm wrapped around Dalia's waist. The sudden contact of their skin made her freeze in surprise.

"You asked for freedom for the Hertz twins, and I gave it. You even asked if it was okay to hang out with them, and I agreed."

He felt quite wronged. There was something he wanted to hear, but lately, every conversation with Dalia ended with Rose Hertz.

But he didn't mind hearing her chatter day and night, giving in to whatever she wanted. It seemed his patience had reached its limit.

Dalia tightly shut her mouth in response to Clayton's whiny words.

Clayton's words were a hundred percent right. Thinking about it, she had been talking more and more about Rose lately.

There was no excuse she could give.

Dalia held his hand, which was wrapped around her waist, with an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think about that part..."

"I don't want to hear you apologize."

At that moment, Clayton sank his fangs into Dalia's nape.

"Ugh..."

As always, he began drinking her blood.

Clayton's movements, trying not to cause too much harm, were evident. Dalia's fingers tangled in his hair.

Perhaps the sound of slurping echoed throughout the room, wrapped in darkness. Clayton, who had been hungrily drinking Dalia's blood, slowly opened his eyes.

It was time to stop.

Even while drinking Dalia's blood, he always controlled himself. He didn't want Dalia to be hurt because of his own desires.

'But...'

Once again, an unfamiliar scent reached Clayton's nostrils.

It was the scent that had been tormenting him for days. Ironically, it seemed to get stronger with each passing day.

Now, the scent seemed like it was about to consume not just his sense of smell but his very mind, and his brow furrowed.

At the same time, Jason's words suddenly came to mind.

'The people of the Seayer family feel an irresistible, alluring scent from pregnant women.'

Pregnancy.

As soon as that word crossed his mind, Clayton exhaled sharply. He then lifted Dalia and laid her on the bed.

Dalia, who had her eyes closed from Clayton's sudden action, let out a short scream.

But Clayton ignored it and began tormenting her neck.

"Wait, just a moment."

Soon enough, Dalia gripped his shoulder with a heated voice.

Clayton was acting strangely today. His body felt unusually hot, and his gaze seemed murkier than usual.

Moreover, it was about time to stop, but he had long passed that point.

"Duke..."

Dalia called Clayton's name again, but nothing changed. Instead, his lips became even rougher.

The bloodsucking had long since ended. By the time she fully realized something was wrong, it was already too late.

Clayton's movements, nibbling at her collarbone, started to become more overt. A dangerous warning bell rang in her mind.

"W-wait... ugh."

Only then did Dalia realize what Clayton wanted.

Every place his touch reached sent chills down her spine. At the same time, Clayton swept up Dalia's thigh.

Dalia squeezed her eyes shut. She hesitated for a moment.

Being human herself, she couldn't help being drawn to the instinct to be close to him.

But it was still the early stages of pregnancy. Early-stage relationships were dangerous for the baby, weren't they? Therefore, all she could do was refuse.

Thus, Dalia called Clayton again, who was gradually losing his rationality.

She mustered all her strength and pushed against his shoulder. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move his solid frame.

"Stop, stop it!"

Only when she shouted did Clayton's instincts break. Clayton, lifting his upper body, exhaled sharply.

The robe the man had been wearing had already fallen to the floor, and Dalia's chemise was half-removed.

His eyes, heated, focused on it, and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The blood, still not wiped off, spread across his lips.

"Why?"

Clayton asked in a voice suppressing his anger.

"Do you not want to mix bodies with me?"