It was her first time being treated this way—and for the person to treat her so kindly to be none other than Hades Valentine—how could she not feel nervous about everything?
Her whole body felt tight, her toes curling inside her boots as she tried not to make a single wrong move. She didn't want to offend him. She liked his company—perhaps more than she dared to admit. So she moved carefully, sitting as properly as she could while Hades watched her.
His violet eyes didn't linger on her green eyes or her golden hair. Not this time. They fixed instead on her neck.
It was slender, delicate—so thin that a careless hand could snap it with ease. The fairness of her skin, the soft glow of it under the candlelight, made him want to trace it with his finger. But that wasn't why he stared. He was looking for something.
When he spotted it—the tiny cluster of moles near her collarbone forming what looked like a flower with five petals—his gaze sharpened.
"Lord Hades," Eva said softly, unaware of where his eyes had settled or what thoughts hid behind them. "About the book you mentioned..."
Hades didn't respond. His violet eyes remained locked on her.
She turned to him, confused by his silence—only to jolt when she felt the faint brush of his nose against her cheek.
She gasped and backed away on instinct, the sudden motion causing her back to knock against the table. Pain flared where her father's whip had left its mark, and she winced—but the ache faded quickly beneath the weight of his closeness.
Those long, dark lashes shadowed his violet gaze, and for a dizzy moment, she thought their lashes might touch.
Her throat tightened. His lips were so close—too close. When had he moved?
And then she saw it—the change in his eyes. The gentleness that had softened his face moments ago vanished, replaced by a fierce, unreadable intensity that made her heart skip.
Then, just as quickly, his gaze curved, lips lifting into a faint crescent smile—as if the hunger she had seen was only a trick of her imagination.
"The book about the red thread of fate?" he asked smoothly, stepping back as though their closeness had meant nothing.
But for Eva, it meant everything. Her heart pounded so hard she swore he could hear it. Her toes curled inside her shoes at the thought of how near he had been—how easily their lips could have touched if she had leaned forward even slightly.
She should have been horrified by that thought. Kissing a man—especially a Seraph, a noble like him—should have made her recoil.
And yet... she didn't.
Something about him pulled at her in a way she couldn't explain. It wasn't just his charm, his voice, or the way he carried himself with effortless grace. It was deeper—something that called to her soul. For someone as hopelessly romantic as Eva, it was a temptation she couldn't quite deny. The temptation of being seen, truly seen, by someone far above her station.
Her fingers drifted unconsciously to her lips, her ears burning with heat.
"Evangeline?" His voice broke her thoughts.
"Y–yes, milord?"
"You're not paying attention," he chuckled, eyes glinting. "What's troubling that pretty little head of yours?"
"Pretty?" she echoed, flustered. That couldn't be true, could it?
"I want to read the book you mentioned," she blurted out quickly, "if... if you don't mind the idea."
"Didn't I tell you this before?" His tone was playful, teasing. "My castle won't crumble from lending you one book. Yesterday you fretted over a teacup, today over a few pages. You are a silly thing, Eva."
His eyes lingered on her blushing cheeks, amused by how easily her emotions showed. "If it bothers you to accept it without repayment, then let's make a deal. You'll learn to read and write well enough to finish the book yourself."
She blinked at him, uncertain. "You wish for me to study alone?"
"Alone?" His lips curved. "Didn't I say I'll teach you myself? You could search all of Salestas, and still, no one could teach you better than I can."
He sounded arrogant—but somehow, it didn't feel that way. His words carried such certainty that she couldn't take offense. If anything, she found herself believing him.
"But your time is precious..." she began, only to stop when he pressed a quill into her hand.
"I find it satisfying," he murmured, "to see someone learn something new because of me. I rarely teach, but when I do, I'm a very good teacher." His violet eyes met hers, sharp yet calm. "So good, in fact, that you'll regret turning down the offer."
Hades opened the book, confident she would accept. And perhaps he was right.
"I'm doing this because I'm bored," he added lightly, as if to soften the intimacy of his offer. "Don't think too much of it, Evangeline. You'll do me a favor by entertaining me, and I'll do you a favor by teaching you."
Still uncertain, she glanced around the vast library before whispering, "But you have a castle... surely someone else could entertain you better than I could."
"True," he admitted, leaning forward, one hand braced on the table. His voice lowered, deliberate, intimate. "But I don't want anyone else."
Her breath caught.
"Out of everyone in Salestas," he said, sliding the book closer to her, "there's only one person I wish to spend my time with—and that's you."
He smiled then, soft but knowing. "So, would you mind amusing me... even for a little while?"
How could Eva ever refuse such offer? Studying and to spend more time with Hades. Though she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't help but wanting to know him better, a silly wish she always surpress when it comes to others but couldn't when it comes to him.
"Oh," she suddenly recalled her mistake and looked away with regret in her eyes. "About the dress you gave me."
"Right, I was wondering why you don't wear them today. Do you dislike it?"
"Dislike? No! How could I- it was pretty but I heard that it was a guest's dress and planned to bring it back however something happened to it and now it's..." she pursed her lips, unable to bring herself to tell the truth of how Serena had torn the dress to shreds.
"But you look as if someone had torn it apart against your wish," Hades's voice was so sudden and with how correct the guess he made she couldn't help but flinch. And nothing seemed to go past his eyes as he narrowed his gaze, letting out a brief hum, "Who did it?"
The way he question who had done it sounded casual but she felt something creep on her skin, making her goosebump.
"That—uh, I..." Eva stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "If it offends you—"
"You wound me," Hades interrupted lightly, his tone somewhere between teasing and reproach. "First a teacup, then a book, and now—a mere dress?"
Her fingers, small and delicate, clenched at the folds of her skirt. "It's not that, milord. It's just... those things you've given me, they're all so precious. Not only in worth but in meaning. Your kindness..." She faltered, eyes dropping to her lap. "And yet I've ruined it."
He smiled, but the calmness in that smile made her heart thrum with unease. She couldn't tell if he was amused—or quietly displeased.
"Then tell me," he said after a pause, his voice silk-smooth. "Who tore the dress?"
"I didn't say it was torn—"
"Nor did you deny it," he pointed out, eyes glinting. "You can't lie to me, Evangeline."
Her breath caught. "Sometimes, Lord Hades, you speak as though you know me well."
"Why?" His chuckle was soft, dangerous in its charm. "Do you dislike that?"
The sound of his voice brushed her ear like a whispering breeze, making her heart twist and tighten. She couldn't answer. Was he... flirting? Or simply toying with her?
"Tell me her name," Hades said again, tone quieter now—but sharper. He wasn't going to let her avoid it.
Her lips parted. "What would you do if I told you?" she asked, voice trembling.
A smile curved his lips. "I don't know," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "Perhaps I'd let them wake one morning to find all their dresses shredded—just as yours was. Or perhaps," his voice dropped, smooth as velvet, "they'd lose a hand."