It happened in the blink of an eye, without her able to scream. When she opened her eyes again, her face was buried in someoneâs chest.
âSir Salton?â
When she called out her fianceâs name, wondering if he had come to find her, she felt the hand wrapped around her waist stop. The cold energy that passed through the soft cloth, dug into the tip of her nose. It wasnât the scent she felt from Salton, but it was a cold, winter-like fragrance that didnât feel anything.
Anne raised her head. All she could see was the other personâs sharp jaw, but even this way she knew that the man holding her was not her fiance. The manâs fingertips touching her waist were thick, and goosebumps rose.
To be held in the arms of an unfamiliar man in a deserted place. The sound of her heart beating faster than when she ran in the garden just a moment ago, pounded in her ears. Anne, who came to her senses in a flash of light, pulled her cheek that touched the hard muscles.
âLet go of me!â
She writhed and struggled, choking out a sharp voice, but the man who stood up like a solid brick wall was not pushed at all. Then, a low, scratching sound fell over her head.
âWhy . . . are you here?â
The voice without a rise in tone was far from just questioning, and it was closer to being unbelievable.
âLet go. How do you dare to harass a noble Lady?â
âWho do you think I am?â
Anne stood frozen when he asked again. She didnât need to know about that. Her lips opened slowly, facing the red eyes behind the black leopard-patterned mask.
âYou are . . .â
âDo you remember now?â
âWhy did you . . . do that at the banquet hall?â
It was the man who roamed by her side all day. He also carried with him a strange feeling and had a mysterious identity that constantly appeared in front of her.
âHow sad.â
Then he clicked his tongue in disappointment. The man hugged her slender waist tightly. Her heart pounded wildly as her bountifully raised breasts were crushed and their stomaches were pressed close enough to touch.
The man slowly lowered his head. His sharp nose brushed against her nostrils.
âItâs funny. I have no regrets about coming.â
The eyes staring intently at her were suffocating. As she froze, she heard a voice calling her name from afar.
âAngroanne!â
It was the voice of her fiance, who was looking for her. Even though he must have heard the sound, the man did not release his grip and run, but looked down at her without moving.
âYou can scream if you want.â
In addition, the unscrupulous man arrogantly told her to shout.
Anneâs throat tickled and she struggled to crumple the erupting scream. It was easy to misunderstand the appearance of a man and woman hugging each other. She canât show Salton that his fiance who left was being filthily embraced by another man.
âArenât you going to call him? Then, I might take you over that wall.â
Anne, who saw where the man was squinting at, also saw a wall not far away, rising like the sky. As in a Duchy, the security was so strict that the wall was high to prevent outsiders from peeking inside, and he couldnât jump over there alone without any tools. Anne let out a laugh.
âEven if you threaten me like that, it wonât work on me. Let me go now.â
âYou donât believe me.â
Unlike her, who struggled to get away from the manâs body, his tone was languid. He had a relaxed face, like the owner of a cat in his arms who knew that trying to escape would be of no avail.
âThis eye that doesnât look at me, this nose that doesnât look for my body odor. And the lips . . . It was a pity, he was right.â
Even though he said it was a pity, the man glanced down at her face and looked meticulously at her features. Why? She was reflected in the manâs eyes, but he wasnât looking at her alone. Rather, he seemed to find a trace of someone else beyond her.
However, it was none of her business, so Anne opened her eyes wide and glared at him.
âWhat are you going to do with me? Do you mean to block my marriage path by insulting a noble Lady? Only my fiance can touch me.â
âYou have a fianceâ¦. I donât care. Even if you already had a husband, as long as you catch my eye, your freedom is over.â
âHaa . . . Thatâs stupid.â
âBecause I can take you from here right now. You canât avoid my eyes with a cloth like this. It depends on whether I make up my mind or not.â
âIf you want to save your life, I hope you donât make up your mind. If you lift a hand at me, Â Marquisate Whitmore wonât sit still.â
It was a small bluff. Although the Whitmore House would not move for a fiancee who was embraced by someone else, it was more effective than the Libelois name.