"Y-Your Grace…"
I cautiously stepped back, my back pressed against Drake like a fortress wall behind me. My eyes were fixed on the affection meter above Dylan's head, cold sweat beading down my spine like I was staring at the devil himself.
-45%…
Not much difference, it might as well be a scythe from the Grim Reaper, ready to drag me straight to hell.
I need to tread carefully around this duke.
"Is there a reason for your visit, Your Grace?" I tried to sound composed, but inside, a storm was brewing.
Dylan's stormy eyes swept over me from head to toe, clearly surprised by the conservative outfit I had on. Still, not a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
"I'm here to report on the southern bandit suppression."
Ah, I remember that part. Davina had sent Dylan south for two long months to punish him for not… attending to her needs.
No wonder the affection meter was in the negatives.
"Tomorrow morning would've been fine too." I forced a smile.
Showing up at the princess's castle this late just to report? Isn't he afraid of scandalous rumors?
"I heard you're detaining Aurora."
Oh right, I hadn't released Aurora yet. So in the end, he's just here for the heroine.
"Oh, that." I let out a dry laugh and turned to Drake. "Release Aurora immediately, and treat her well."
Maybe that's why Drake had been sticking to me since this afternoon, to make sure I released Aurora. Once I gave the order, he turned and walked away without a trace of hesitation.
I didn't expect any different. Still… it stung a little. Men really are heartless creatures.
"Is that satisfactory, Your Grace?" I looked up at Dylan, careful not to slip up and let the affection meter drop any further.
Dylan didn't seem to expect me to yield so easily, he looked like he had braced for a full-on power struggle. Now, he just seemed caught off guard.
I had no energy for mind games. I was sleepy.
"You can give your report in the morning. I'm tired."
I brushed past Dylan. After two months away, I was sure he missed his precious sweetheart dearly. Go to her and leave me alone.
But his footsteps began following me down the corridor.
"I'll escort you to your chambers."
What? What does he want now?
"No need." I didn't want the Grim Reaper tailing me. "What if I get in the mood and drag you into my room?"
I aimed directly at the sore spot I knew would drive him away. Dylan had always hated Davina since they were kids. What was once a political engagement had soured into mutual hostility.
He and Davina were bound by duty, not affection. To Davina, Dylan was just a toy, a pawn in her hand.
What she didn't know was that her former fiancé would later pave the bloody path to her downfall.
As a player, I knew the truth. Dylan's family was behind the assassination of Davina's parents. All part of their plan to stage a coup.
In the main storyline, Dylan is a cunning strategist who even keeps secrets from Aurora. A man like that is dangerous. I should avoid him unless absolutely necessary.
Dylan's steps faltered, but I kept walking. His voice followed me, low and steady.
"And if I insist? Anyone could attack you at this hour, Your Highness."
I didn't stop or turn around. A laugh escaped my lips, dry and sardonic.
"You're right. Anyone could. Including you, Your Grace."
Still, he kept following me. Ignoring the wall I put up. Or maybe… he saw right through me. He's a cunning wolf, that one.
"You're not wrong. But I won't kill you, not yet."
Of course not. He'll save that moment for when he finally takes the throne.
I shook my head, not bothering to stop him. Let him follow me if he wants.
The nighttime air was still, or maybe it just felt suffocating between us. The hallway seemed endless.
"So…" I searched for a topic to break the silence. "How did the southern campaign go?"
"Took longer than expected." He replied coolly. "But everything went according to plan."
"That's… good. Well done."
What now? I never liked Dylan's route, so I always skipped it. I didn't know much about him.
"How odd. Are you praising me?"
I flinched. Right, Davina never praised Dylan. No matter what he did. That was a big reason for his hatred.
I steadied myself, masking any cracks.
"Is that strange? Praising achievements is only right."
"Yes, but it's not like you at all, Princess."
Dylan suddenly closed the gap between us, stepping up behind me. His breath brushed through my hair, cold and unsettling like a rabbit caught beneath a wolf's claw.
I clenched my fists to keep my composure.
"What would be like me, then, Your Grace?"
I tilted my head back, meeting his probing gaze without flinching.
Because just like me, Dylan didn't truly know Davina. All he saw was a spoiled, rotten princess, a puppet to discard when the time came.
A smirk curled on his lips, unreadable under the flickering candlelight. My instincts screamed danger.
"Who knows?" he murmured. His hand slithered around my neck. "Someone who never meets my eyes… like you are now."
Right, I remembered. Dylan had obsessive-compulsive tendencies, he always wore gloves around Davina. He couldn't stand her.
I guess those expensive gloves were about to go up in flames.
The affection meter above his head still blinked a dangerous red: 45%. A constant reminder not to let my guard down.
I scoffed and brushed his hand away. With someone like him, mind games wouldn't work. They'd backfire.
"Maybe you've proven your worth already."
I stepped forward. My bedroom door was finally in sight. Just a little more, and I'd be free from this wolf.
Suddenly, Dylan grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. Pain flared through my arm from his iron grip, and I couldn't help letting out a soft hiss.
Seriously. Not a single man treats this body gently?
Dylan frowned at my reaction, then wordlessly pulled up my sleeve. The bruise glowed under the candlelight, etching itself into his storm-grey eyes.
"You… slept with Cassian?" His voice dropped, sharp and cold, his grip tightening.
I yanked my arm away in irritation. "And what does that have to do with you, Your Grace?"
A low, bitter laugh escaped him. He let go and stepped back. "Right. You're still the same."
I didn't understand what he meant, rubbing my sore wrist in silence.
"Then I'll no longer disturb your eventful night, Your Highness." He threw a mocking glance toward my bedroom door.
I followed his gaze to find Xavier waiting nearby, clearly anxious to see me with Dylan.
When I turned back, Dylan was already walking away. His shadow stretched endlessly down the hall, accompanied only by flickering candlelight.
Above his head, the affection meter still blinked red.
[-45%]
[…]
[-40%]
My eyes widened at the sudden change.
I didn't even do anything to win him over. Why did it go up?
Could it be… he's the type who likes being mistreated?
I give up. I'll never understand the twisted logic of these love interests.
***