Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 131

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 131
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‘Why did I even ask what kind of desire it was?’
Despite not being particularly bold by nature, I had impulsively provoked Isidore. Perhaps I wanted to touch that desire of his—so vivid and tangible it seemed I could grasp it with my bare hands.
“…!”
The moment our lips collided and locked together seamlessly, I instinctively held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. His lips, warm with heat, traced over mine as if redrawing them. His sharp nose brushed across my face in different directions before pressing down clumsily.
‘I’m dizzy.’
The stimulating sensation of our lips rubbing together made my mind spin. A tension that burned the base of my neck surged up simultaneously. The hand that had been caressing my nape slowly traced along my ear before suddenly scraping against the outer curve of it sharply.
I gasped for breath through my mouth, and soon my lower lip was gently bitten. After he pulled his teeth lightly against my lip and released it, he very carefully touched the space between my parted lips.
As the tip of his tongue delicately slid across my teeth, my already racing heart plummeted painfully in my chest before leaping upward. Isidore’s distinctive scent, cool and penetrating through my nostrils, invaded my senses, while a fierce heat rose from our clumsily joined tongues.
Soon, wet sounds that stimulated my ears echoed through the quiet space. The hand slowly caressing my cheek was infinitely tender, as if cradling something precious.
The stiffness that had gripped me was short-lived. Entranced by the soft, intertwining movements, I gradually pulled my body forward and responded to his kiss. Lost in the moment, an indistinct, pleading moan unconsciously escaped my lips.
Then suddenly, he pulled my neck closer with his large hand and, tilting his head, began to hungrily devour my lips.
“Ah!”
As he suddenly intensified and pressed in forcefully, my mind flashed white. His rough kiss, as if trying to swallow me whole while churning the inside of my mouth, left me breathless in an instant, as though I’d been sprinting at full speed.
It felt as though someone had vigorously shaken my brain and moved on. My chest heaved sharply, and each time heat spread through my lower abdomen, my body grew weaker. My limbs seemed to tingle with the unfamiliar sensation. Fearing I might tumble into an abyss, I gripped his solid arms tightly as if clutching a lifeline.
But he came at me like a beast unleashed, undeterred by my weak resistance. Soon the desk between us clattered, and a pile of books spilled across the floor. I pushed him away and stepped back.
Isidore separated from me with surprising ease, exhaling slowly as he traced his glistening lips. He exuded an atmosphere so raw and rough it made one’s throat tighten just to look at him. The corners of his sharp eyes were flushed, and his broad shoulders rose and fell with each breath.
With his brow slightly furrowed, he savagely shoved the desk aside. The heavy wooden desk slid helplessly toward the wall, and now there was nothing between him and me.
“I like you so much….”
“….”
“I think I’m losing my mind.”
His voice, thick with longing so intense it nearly suffocated me, made me bite my wet lips. His teal eyes, which had resembled a resort’s ocean, now rippled like a deep night sea.
Just as I thought he would cover me roughly again, he suddenly reached out and very carefully tucked my disheveled hair behind my ear.
“I love you.”
Tender one moment, savage the next, confessing sweetly with eyes that seemed ready to devour me—Isidore was utterly unpredictable.
Strangely, his duality gave me a peculiar sense of kinship and, simultaneously, made him all the more captivating. The fact that despite his many secrets, he occasionally became excessively honest with me.
“I love you too.”
Heat bloomed across my cheeks at his repeated confessions that tickled my ears. When I tilted my head back slightly, he lifted my chin and gently rubbed the corners of my eyes.
“Tell me you love me too.”
He spoke in a voice so earnest it seemed almost pleading. Though my throat felt tight, I barely managed to open my mouth and whisper faintly.
Catching my words somehow, he curved his eyes slightly and cupped my face with both hands, kissing me with soft, audible smacks. Light kisses fell upon me continuously, gentle as drizzle. His lips touched my cheeks, the corners of my eyes, my forehead, even my eyebrows.
“Will you be with me?”
When our gazes met directly, he suddenly asked. I nodded without hesitation, looking into his eyes that overflowed with deep affection.
He seemed surprised at his own proposal before suddenly pulling me into his embrace.
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That evening, a carriage laden with numerous trunks arrived at the Simour Family Estate. Servants from House of Visconti had come bearing the dress Deborah Simour would wear on the day of her investiture ceremony, along with various ornaments and shoes.
“The dress is truly magnificent. It’s neither frivolous nor entirely ordinary.”
“To think of every detail, from hair ornaments to anklets….”
Even Deborah Simour’s servants, whose standards were exceedingly high, marveled at Isidore’s taste and meticulousness. Moreover, news that the Duke of Visconti had sent a gift quickly reached Duke Simour’s ears.
“Has that fox bastard finally lost his mind!”
Duke Simour thrashed about furiously, tearing to shreds the letter from Isidore that had just arrived before him.
“I made myself perfectly clear back then!”
Duke Simour looked ready to march on Visconti at any moment, so his retainers scrambled to calm him, while the expressions of the twins in the conference room grew bewildered.
So the partner for the title ceremony of the Duke of Visconti, who had been the talk of the town lately, was none other than Deborah Simour.
‘I assumed he’d bring a young lady recommended from within the family, since there hadn’t been any particular news until now.’
Wasn’t it far too public a venue?
With all the imperial family in attendance and the event open to the common people, bringing her there meant she held special significance to Isidore. And to those who had been debating the nature of their relationship, it was a decisive statement that theirs was a serious one.
“To make such a proposal just two days before the title ceremony? He must be insane!”
The excuse of having little time given didn’t sit well with Duke Simour.
“What shall we do about him?”
Beleck Simour spoke darkly. The fact that Deborah had accepted the dress Isidore sent meant the two had already reached an agreement between themselves—the situation was dire.
“Well, if words won’t work, we could always tie him up and threaten him to recant.”
Rozard, whose specialty was kidnapping, imprisonment, torture, and coercion, spoke in an offhand tone.
“R-Rozard, my lord. If you actually did such a thing, we might end up at war with House Visconti.”
One of the retainers, aware of the Simour direct line’s lack of common sense, pleaded in alarm.
“A jest, merely.”
Rozard smirked.
“…Was it truly a jest?”
Duke Simour rubbed his jaw with a regretful expression, then rose from his seat with a hardened face.
“Bring every carriage and horse we have at once.”
His eyes gleamed like a viper’s.
“On the day of the title ceremony, I intend to intercept the Visconti carriage at every turn. The youngest duke? As a duke of twenty years’ standing, I’ll give him a proper initiation.”
“At the very least, he won’t be setting foot in this mansion.”
“P-Please, everyone calm down!”
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‘It would have been troublesome without teleportation magic.’
Isidore faced various obstacles from the Simour men right up until the day itself—false rumors, interference with his plans. In the end, he used teleportation magic to move outside and boarded a carriage stationed elsewhere before entering Simour.
‘How did he get here?’
When he appeared before the Town House to escort the young lady, Duke Simour’s eyes widened in shock, and Isidore greeted him with polite indifference.
“Duke Simour. I trust you have been well?”
“Thanks to you, I’ve been… quite well. It seems the Duke of Visconti grows more radiant with each passing day.”
“You are too kind.”
Since Isidore had been elevated to the same rank, Duke Simour had no choice but to speak in measured tones despite grinding his teeth inwardly. The trap was that he might need to use even more formal language at the official ceremony.
As they stood facing each other awkwardly, Deborah Simour appeared, attended by servants.
At the sight of his daughter looking unusually dignified and beautiful, Duke Simour swallowed his bitterness. Much as he hated to admit it, that Visconti bastard seemed to have sharpened his blade to make his daughter shine brightest today.
‘He couldn’t have had much time.’
Even a duke indifferent to jewels could tell at a glance that the necklace was no ordinary piece.
“You look even lovelier today. I’ll see you later, Deborah.”
The duke squeezed his daughter’s hand and spoke affectionately. Since the heads of high noble houses were participating as representatives in this event, he would see her again soon anyway.
‘You. Me. I’m watching.’
Duke Simour fixed Isidore with a lethal glare laden with that very meaning. Though I felt the weight of his piercing gaze, I forced a smile and escorted the lady with utmost courtesy into the carriage.
Shortly after, the ornate carriage bearing the Visconti House’s resplendent golden seal departed for Horun Castle, where the investiture ceremony would take place. The area surrounding the castle already teemed with crowds who had come to witness the spectacle. Most had gathered from across the Empire simply for a glimpse—however distant—of the most beautiful duke in the realm.
Before the Imperial Plaza, the highest dais rose majestically. Around the intricately carved throne depicting a blue dragon hung in succession were rows of chairs.
The navy chairs were reserved for the imperial consorts and members of the imperial family, while the purple chairs seated the heads of the highest houses and their companions. The remaining seats were filled by distinguished guests who had received direct invitations from the Emperor.
The occupants of the seats began appearing one by one, and when the House of Visconti’s carriage arrived moments later, every eye in the plaza turned toward it.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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