Night of Eden 62

 Chapter 62

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"Did you all hear the news? The Crown Prince's team won again. Three wins in a row."

"Grand Duke Maximilian scored a goal just before the end of the sixth period. We came from behind to win."

"The newspapers are going crazy. The Grand Duke is at the peak of his powers, unstoppable?"

The men in the drawing room were busy talking about the polo match.

The members of the Seven Stars were the talk of the Shore's maids.

"Certainly, this season is bloody from the preliminaries. All the strong teams are advancing without exception, right?"

"And they're all waiting for our match."

A silence descended. It wasn't intentional, but the room had split between Theodore's team and Edwin's team.

"When the hell is Edwin coming back, anyway? We need him so we can practice properly."

Rob's comment made Stan, who'd been quietly cleaning the ashtray in the corner, stand up.

"Even if you didn’t mention, I got a call from Pemburg this morning, and the master said he'd be back by the end of the week at the latest."

"Weekend?"

Rob repeated, his face full of displeasure. His twin brother, Pearson, sighed.

They couldn't delay practice any longer. Without their captain, Edwin, they needed to find a replacement, and the only one available was their younger brother, Stea.

"That kid just learned how to hold a mallet."

Pearson threw his arms up in the air in frustration.

Marcus and the rest of Theodore's team, on the other hand, were cheerful.

"Looks like we're going to be the team to face the Crown Prince."

Marcus raised his glass in defiance, and Andrea and Emil joined in. As they clinked glasses, Marcus suddenly furrowed his brow and jerked his head off into the distance.

"Hey, Theodore, what are you doing not coming?"

Theodore's eyes, which had been darting about at the sound of his name in Hamanese, momentarily came into focus.

But then, like a lion realizing that it was only a pesky fly that had woken him up, he returned to his dazed state.

Question marks crossed the young men's faces, as they had with everyone who had met Theodore recently.

Why was he here now?

He wasn't smoking, drinking, or otherwise engaging in conversation.

"Ha, that asshole, what's he doing again?"

Marcus clicked his tongue.

Stan waited for the silence to pass, then got the young men's attention with a hmmm, a hollow cough.

"We'll need you to move to the Entrance Hall in a little while. As I informed you, there is a pre-ceremony performance. Part one is harp, part two is piano."

Alas, God.

The beginning of their suffering.

Several young men clutched their heads as if they were being led to the guillotine.

Both performances were strictly for the ladies. The thought of having to endure such a boring performance was already irritating.

Stan stifled a laugh and continued.

"They're both up-and-comers who have recently been sponsored by the Macmilan family. Mr. Richter, in particular, won the grand prize at the Modius Competition last month. The judges were unanimous, so you should be in for a treat."

The young men listened intently. Except for one.

"Nicola Richter?"

All eyes snapped to Theodore.

"...What the fuck is he doing here?"

The curse that came out of nowhere scratched sharply at their eardrums.

***

Dana recognized Nicola immediately. And so did the pianist himself.

The grand piano stopped playing immediately. Blinking, Dana turned to face Nicola, who smiled first.

"Hello, Miss Bordon."

"...hello, Mr. Richter."

Nicola walked briskly to stand in front of her.

"How are you?" Dana asked.

"Yes, as you can see...."

His lean body stretched upward, long arms spread out to either side.

"More human than I was that day."

His eyes, deep and lustrous beneath his dark hair, were alive with life. His tone and expression also seemed much more confident.

"I'm glad we finally got to meet again, because it's been bothering me that I never got to say goodbye."

"Yeah, me too."

Dana smiled, and then felt a twinge of recognition.

"I'm warning you, I don't want any of those lowlifes anywhere near you in the future. Including Edwin Hastings.”

"Or I'll stop this ridiculous gentleman impersonation right now, do you understand?”

Something, she didn’t know if it was fear or something else, clutched at her heart.

"I heard from Ms. Celeste that you've become a handmaiden. Congratulations, Miss Bordon."

The corners of the man's drooping eyes crinkled into a deep smile. Dana barely managed to curl the corners of her mouth up. It was a precarious smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I don't know about anything else, but that sheep's milk tea was excellent, to the point where I sometimes think about it. Do you mind if I ask for it again when I get a chance?"

"...Uh, sure..."

Dana replied quickly. She felt like she was being chased, and it was hard to focus on the conversation.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you."

"...For me?"

"Yes, Ms. Celeste asked me to deliver a letter."

Nicola smiled at her wide eyes.

"It's in my room, but I was wondering if you'd like to see it this evening? After the show."

Dana had just opened her mouth to reply when she felt a chill run down her spine.

No way......

"Ah, Master Macmilan."

The name was enough to send a chill down Dana’s body. Her legs trembled and her mouth gaped open.

"Uh, well... I... I'm gonna go."

"...What?"

Nicola, who was smiling friendly at Theodore, dropped his head in surprise. Dana could sense his bewilderment, but she didn't have time to apologize or explain.

"Then I hope you play well."

With that, she pushed past Nicola and headed for the opposite door, her legs in her skirt flapping frantically like flippers beneath the surface of the water, in contrast to her stiff upper body.

"No, Miss Bordon, wait."

Dana gripped the doorknob as if she hadn't heard. But the next words stopped her in her tracks.

"...What about the letter?"

Alas, yes.

Dana squeezed her eyes shut and opened them before answering.

"Yes, the letter that Ms. Celeste said was from...."

She knew how strange she must look, stiff and mumbling. But Dana couldn't bring herself to turn her head.

"Just... Give it to someone else. The butler, or the head maid, or... Anyone...."

"What? Oh, no, I can't do that."

Who cares what happens to the letter?

Avoiding it now was the priority.

Dana didn't wait for his next words, just threw open the door and ran. She was out of the main house in a flash, but she didn't stop walking.

Behind the outbuildings, on a slight ramp, she saw a shed with an open door. Her heart leapt with joy.

She needed to catch her breath.

She needed to be alone in the middle of nowhere to calm this unusual fear that was swirling in her chest.

The closer she got to the creaking door, the wider her stride, the faster her pace.

Finally, she was close.

Dana reached out her arm and grabbed the jangling latch. Pulling back, she swung the door wide open, and suddenly her wrist got caught.

"....!"

She was thrown inside by a force from behind.

"Get off me!"

She struggled to shake off the grip, but it was no use. Theodore slammed the door shut behind him.

The light was gone. In the windowless darkness, the man's ragged breathing burned with rage.

"Do you like him?"

What a childish question.

"No!"

Dana blurted out.

"Then why were you smiling at him?”

Indignant and bewildered, Dana was at a loss for words.

"Why was you laughing so hard?"

His voice was low, almost murderous. Dana shook her head vigorously, straining her body.

"I was not... I was not laughing... ."

A cold sneer echoed.

“Should I give you a mirror?"

Tuduk, the strings that held her heart so tightly were about to snap.

"I'm a maid, I'm supposed to serve tea to the Lady's guests, I'm supposed to smile. Is it wrong for me to smile?"

"Yes, don't smile. Don't look at anyone, and don't talk to anyone."

Was it because it was so ridiculous? Dana was rendered speechless, she could hardly breathe.

"I'm going to tell everything... .. I'll... I'll tell the Lady."

"Whatever."

Dana couldn't believe her ears at the joking response.

"I was already thinking about it, but it's a good thing you're willing to make the embarrassing confession of sleeping with the maid for me."

She couldn't take it anymore. Dana stretched out her arms and tried to push the man's body away from her.

It was useless. Theodore grabbed her struggling arm, rendering it helpless, and pushed her body backwards.

She didn't even have time to blink. A few rustles were all she heard.

Her back hit the shelf, and the man crushed her against it. She turned her head as his hot breath hit her.

"...You're crazy."

"Yes, I am crazy."

The conversation ended in a low whisper, barely above a growl.

The man's tongue invaded her mouth deeply.

His lips sucked relentlessly. The sound of wetness sloshed and rasped through colliding tongues.

The man's tongue and teeth, mixing evenly, crushed her conscience and dissolved her fears. The boundaries between pleasure and displeasure disappeared, and her whole body burned with desire. Hmph, moans after moans, almost like a plea.

When Dana's consciousness briefly returned, the man's fingers, which had gripped her wrist to the point of breaking, have completely loosened. His fingertips were gently rubbing the delicate flesh of her wrist, creating an uncanny sensation.

Even his tongue, which had been so vicious, had changed. Theodore bit and licked as if he were tasting the sweetest thing in the world.

Dana's crushed body jerked slightly as the eager man's tongue traced the line of her lips and then pushed in unbearably deep.

"Oh, fuck...."

Theodore pulled his lips away as if in a seizure. Desire panted precariously between ragged breaths.

Despite his barely functioning rationality, his lips couldn't hold back and moved downward, seeking the nape of her neck, somewhere where her pulse throbbed.

When hot breath and an even hotter tongue touched the sensitive flesh, Dana nearly screamed as a rush of dizziness flooded into her eyes.

"Fuck, Dana."

He buried his face in her neck and muttered something more.

The words, low and dirty, the kind a gentleman would never utter, burned hotly up the nape of her neck, reaching her eardrums. Things she would have had no idea what he was talking about if it weren't for the giggling stories Leah had told her after a night with a man.

Shock, and a dizzying sensation even greater than the shock, stirred through her.

His breathing came in ragged gasps, and then he pressed his lips against hers again. Saliva slid, welcoming the friction. Their tongues entwined deeply.

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