chapter 129
Lyuon was taller than most people. But Theodore was even taller than him, with a far more imposing build.
That kind of man was now standing right in front of him, close enough to cast a shadow, his head tilted slightly.
It was obvious he would excuse it as trying to meet eye level, but with his hands shoved into his pockets, he looked undeniably rough.
Fiorentia quickly stepped in between them.
“Theo. At least step back a little, okay?”
She trusted that Theodore wouldn’t act rashly, but with the atmosphere already tense, she thought it best to create some distance between the two men.
She tried to push Theodore away from Lyuon, but he didn’t budge. Of course he didn’t.
“My eyesight’s bad.”
“Stop talking nonsense. Does this look like a joke to you?”
Fiorentia shot him an irritated glance as she scolded him.
Theodore let out a dry laugh and brushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. Then, without moving his head, he glanced at her and asked quietly,
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“……”
No.
That’s why I’m trying to separate you.
But Fiorentia swallowed those words.
Still, she didn’t loosen her grip on Theodore’s arm.
Lyuon stared at where their hands and arms touched. Then he slowly closed his eyes.
When he opened them again a moment later, whatever disturbance had stirred within him had already vanished.
“Miss Fiorentia. It’s alright. I can speak with Duke Beringham like this.”
“But—”
“It’s fine. Truly.”
With a gentle smile, as if to reassure her, Lyuon placed his hand over the back of hers—still gripping Theodore’s arm—and lightly pried it away.
Theodore watched as her hand was removed without resistance, then let out another sharp, humorless laugh.
“Honestly… unbelievable.”
He turned his head slightly, bit his lower lip once, then stepped back.
After that, he spoke again.
“I still haven’t gotten my answer.”
“I was just about to give it.”
Lyuon turned to face him again without rushing.
“As the head of a house, I believe it is only right for me to act cautiously, given that we don’t know what matters may come before the Tri-Duke Council in the future.”
As if he had expected that answer, Theodore’s lips curled crookedly.
But the next words that followed forced his expression to harden again.
“However, if Beringham and Marcella refuse to cooperate until the very end… then I will have to use it.”
“What did you say?”
“The union between Theodore and Marcella brings that much benefit.”
Lyuon met his gaze boldly, without the slightest intimidation.
“What I just said is what I told my retainers to persuade them. But my personal reason is this: it’s far too important a matter—one that involves someone’s life—to be dismissed as something as trivial as ‘mere’ marriage. For me, that alone is more than enough reason to use that authority.”
Lyuon looked at Theodore as if asking whether further explanation was needed.
But no words came in response.
What Lyuon had said was so entirely just, so fundamentally righteous, that there was no room to criticize it.
After a long silence, it was Lyuon who decided to cut off the suffocating standoff.
“I understand that this may be confusing for you, Duke Beringham. I wasn’t asking for an immediate decision. I simply wished to inform you first. So for today, we will take our leave.”
Theodore kept his lips tightly shut, saying nothing.
His expression revealed nothing of what he was thinking.
“Miss Fiorentia. Let’s go.”
“…Yes, Your Grace.”
As Lyuon extended his hand toward Fiorentia—who had deliberately avoided looking at Theodore—Theodore, who had been frozen like stone, reacted instantly.
“Are you serious?”
“…What?”
“You’re going to hold another man’s hand and walk away right in front of me?”
Fiorentia, who had been about to turn her back on him, let out a weary sigh and looked at him.
“After everything that’s been said, what exactly did you hear?”
“Bullshit.”
With sharp eyes, Theodore glared at Lyuon.
“Isn’t this a bit of a sick joke? You more or less know what’s between her and me, yet you’re asking for approval for your marriage?”
“I don’t see the issue. It wasn’t you she asked for help—it was me. And she chose to follow my method.”
“So in the end, all the power lies with Fiorentia?”
Lyuon pressed his lips together, then reluctantly nodded.
Theodore let out a short laugh and turned to Fiorentia with a mocking sneer.
“Then we should settle things properly.”
“…What?”
Her brows furrowed, forming a deep crease on her pale forehead. Theodore, thinking even that expression looked beautiful, continued with deliberate provocation.
“Let’s do what you like. Something fair.”
“Theodore. Stop saying useless things—”
“We haven’t even started the ‘fair’ life you always talked about.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
Thinking he was being unreasonable, Fiorentia felt her irritation rise.
“Then what was everything until now? I was confined in Beringham too! Because you decided it that way!”
She was aware Lyuon was still beside her, but she had no choice but to focus entirely on Theodore now.
Even as she spoke with restrained anger, Theodore didn’t so much as blink.
“That was just a locked door. Don’t you remember? You said it yourself—you lived in luxury at Beringham.”
“……”
“But I didn’t live in luxury in that shabby room in Marcella.”
“……”
“I was tied up. Locked away.”
Theodore let out a dry, irritated laugh.
“And I never thought I’d say something this pathetic out loud.”
Pressing his hand against his brow, roughly rubbing it, he muttered in a hoarse voice,
“Fiorentia. Are you trying to start a conflict between Beringham and Theodore?”
“As if. If you’d just give up—”
“Fiorentia. Don’t even start with that kind of stupidity.”
A cold smile spread across his lips.
“If that were an option, I wouldn’t have gone to get you in the first place. I wouldn’t have left my mark on you either.”
The intermittent laughter that had slipped out earlier now vanished completely.
“Did you think I was lying when I said I’d find you, no matter where you were?”
“……”
Then Theodore’s gaze slowly traveled down—from her face, to her neck, to her collarbone, past her chest, and down toward her abdomen.
He didn’t touch her, only looked—but wherever his gaze passed, it felt as if a familiar sensation lingered. Fiorentia felt her stomach tighten unconsciously.
With a rough smile, Theodore stepped closer.
Leaning in, he whispered into her ear—so softly that only she could hear.
“Did you really think this would be enough to push me away?”
“…Theo. Please.”
Fiorentia squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, her voice low and anxious.
“Do you think I wanted to go this far?”
“I know. You only have three cards to play—including me. That’s why I’m not even angry. It’s too obvious.”
He smiled silently, and a few strands of her hair fluttered by her ear.
“I’m far more persistent than you think, Fiorentia.”
Pulling back slightly, he met her gaze before his eyes curved again.
He placed a hand over his left chest and tapped it lightly, as if showing it to her.
“I endured this even without you. Didn’t I?”
“……”
“That’s why I told you from the beginning—if you’re going to tame me, take responsibility.”
“You’re not tame. You never even looked like you wanted to be.”
“That’s not true. I’ve always willingly handed you the leash—you’re just the one not taking it.”
With a crooked smile, Theodore added playfully,
“That just means… you don’t know how.”
His eyes, curved as they met hers, held nothing but affection.
“…You.”
“If you don’t know how to tame me, I’ll teach you from now on.”
He lowered his voice even further, whispering,
“It’s surprisingly easy.”
