Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 135

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

Chapter 135
* * *
‘Ah, she’s completely drunk.’
Not me—the Fifth Princess.
She appeared with champagne flutes in both hands and drained them rapidly, as if racing. She challenged Isidore to settle a wager right then and there with drinks, and while he matched her glass for glass, he maintained his usual unhurried composure with infuriating ease.
“Deborah Simour. I’d prefer if you called me Vivienne casually when we’re in private.”
The princess spoke with her face flushed slightly from the alcohol.
“Understood.”
“Don’t be so stiff about it. Call me by my name. Hiccup! I’m hurt.”
“Vivienne, Your Highness.”
At my words, her glistening eyes grew tender.
“…Just once more.”
‘That’s the fifth time already.’
Vivienne was the type who repeated the same words when drunk.
“I’ll take this drunkard with me.”
The Crown Prince, unable to bear it any longer, heaved a deep sigh, hoisted her onto his back, and she whimpered in protest.
“Let go! You haven’t heard me call your name yet!”
“You’ve said it plenty. Please, stop embarrassing the Imperial Family and come inside. Ah, and Deborah Simour.”
The Crown Prince regarded me with a good-natured smile.
“Yes?”
“Dance with me next time.”
The playful tone in his voice made it clear the Crown Prince intended to tease Isidore.
“That won’t be possible.”
When Isidore took the jest seriously, the Crown Prince let out a hollow laugh.
“Well, isn’t that something. You must tell me later how you grew so close to Isidore, my lady. Now, we shall take our leave.”
The Crown Prince departed gracefully, carrying the Fifth Princess, who was hiccupping severely.
“Finally, they’re gone.”
Isidore muttered irritably and loosened the cravat that had been constricting his neck.
‘Why… why is he undoing that so carelessly?’
“Phew, it’s hot.”
Though he appeared fine, the alcohol had apparently heated his blood. He fluttered his shirt lightly, and the long, defined muscles of his neck came into view.
“I’d like some fresh air. Shall we go out?”
I followed him out to the Terrace behind the Imperial Palace Hall. Beyond the Forest lay a Garden with a small Fountain.
‘How does he know such a secluded place?’
“I’ve been coming to the Imperial Palace since childhood because of the Crown Prince, so I know the layout of this area fairly well.”
Isidore perched on the edge of the Fountain, and I took a seat beside him.
“Now it’s just the two of us.”
Isidore, sitting close beside me, smiled with a docile, puppy-like contentment. His eyes and lips were more relaxed than usual, making him look even more like a large dog.
‘Could he possibly be drunk?’
“I think I’m a little drunk.”
He carefully smoothed the top of my head, his long lashes lowering.
“You’re fine for now, so don’t worry. You’re not cold, are you?”
“No.”
Asteia enjoyed a mild climate that stretched the spring and autumn seasons long while keeping summer and winter brief. Besides, with our arms touching, I had no room to notice the chill.
He gently pulled my head to rest against his shoulder. As I heard Isidore’s breathing up close, I tensed slightly, and he idly played with my violet hair that fell to my waist.
“Don’t dance with anyone else.”
He suddenly gripped my hair and spoke with a sullen tone.
“Is there really someone who wants to dance with me?”
“You just received a request.”
“The Crown Prince was probably just teasing the Duke of Visconti.”
The novel had stated it clearly—the Crown Prince preferred pure, delicate types like Miya.
“You’re quite oblivious.”
Isidore murmured softly and slowly brushed back my bangs. His warm lips touched my forehead once before pulling away.
“You’re beautiful.”
He smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘It seems Isidore’s laughter becomes looser when he’s drunk.’
“I… for some reason, I keep smiling like some foolish idiot.”
Then he narrowed his brows slightly and rubbed his lips with his hand.
“Do you develop mind-reading abilities when you’re drunk?”
“You’re the one who makes me want to spill everything I’m thinking every time.”
“Me?”
“Yes. When you stare at me with those beautiful eyes, I can’t help but become honest.”
He blamed me while slowly interlacing his fingers.
“I want to kiss you. Ever since that day, I haven’t been able to think of anything else.”
His unfiltered words made my chest tighten. Truth be told, I’d thought about it countless times myself.
As I recalled that sensation of floating weightlessly while my heart constricted from my chest to my throat, Isidore’s beautiful face drew slowly closer.
‘He’s definitely reading my mind.’
I squeezed his interlaced fingers tightly and closed my eyes, and he made a soft laughing sound before pressing his lips to my chin. He pecked at the tip of my chin several times before urgently capturing my lips, drawing me into his mouth with his tongue.
He wrapped one arm around my waist like a serpent, delving deep into my mouth before biting my tongue gently and pulling me into his. The sweet taste of champagne he’d drunk lingered on my tongue. The deeper we tangled, the more my mind grew hazy as if intoxicated.
He endlessly sucked and held my lips and tongue, desperately, like someone dying of thirst.
At some point, feeling as though I might overload and break, I urgently pulled my lips away without thinking. He faced me with drowsy eyes, breathing heavily. My lipstick was smudged across his beautifully shaped lips, and his previously neat bangs were now disheveled.
His cravat hung loose and his shirt collar gaped wider than usual, making me feel like I was stealing a glimpse of something forbidden. The hollow of his collarbone rose and fell visibly, and his chest heaved roughly with each breath.
“It’s smudged.”
A red warning light flashed in my mind, and I hurriedly averted my gaze, offering him a handkerchief. He slowly wiped his lips and stood up.
“I’ll escort you to the carriage.”
Isidore spoke in a tightly controlled voice and pulled me to my feet. Though the air crackled with precarious tension, he seemed to be backing away obediently.
Lost in a strange mixture of longing and exhaustion, he swallowed a soft curse, cupped both my cheeks, and kissed me once more. A rough, completely unrefined kiss swept past rapidly. It felt like I might be devoured whole.
“Only show me that kind of expression.”
He spoke breathlessly, almost pleading.
“What kind of expression…?”
“It’s that expression right now. Come to think of it, I think I wanted to monopolize you all day today.”
Isidore pressed his teeth against the back of my ear like stamping a seal. The tingling sensation meant a red mark had definitely been left behind.
“I love you so much.”
But he confessed before I could say anything in protest. His expression was tender yet desperate at the same time. When this meticulous man pushed his raw emotions forward so clumsily, I found myself completely helpless.
“Me too, yes.”
With my tingling lips, before we parted ways, I lightly pressed my lips to his cheek in front of the carriage.
Despite having just done much more, he looked startled. Embarrassed by his reaction, I climbed into the carriage with quick steps without even looking back.
* * *
Because the princess had suddenly kissed him and then left with such a cool demeanor, Isidore stood dazed for a moment, his hand cupping his cheek. A moment later, heat rose from the nape of his neck, and a deep sense of satisfaction lingered in his chest.
Deborah Simour controlled not only his senses but also his emotions as easily as if pulling on a leash.
‘I want to see her again right after we part.’
Truth be told, he didn’t want to let her go so quickly. If only the location hadn’t been the Imperial Palace, he would have kept their lips together all night. It felt too intoxicating.
‘I should have secured the next meeting right away.’
Because of the nuisances, he had been exercising patience and forgotten what truly mattered.
‘Being Imperial Family is more troublesome.’
Isidore, furrowing his brow while thinking of the Third Prince’s eyes that somehow reminded him of Philaf, tucked the handkerchief with her lipstick faintly smudged on it into his pocket and mounted his horse to return to the Mansion.
Upon arriving at the Town House, the servants bustled about to greet him, now a true duke. Isidore dismounted and approached Miguel, who had come to receive him.
“What is it?”
“Agate has arrived.”
“My aunt?”
His eyebrows rose at an angle. Agate Vaslein was Isidore’s younger aunt. She was also the only blood relative he had left.
The Marquise of Vaslein had such a poor relationship with her reckless older brother that she had severed ties with him, but she cherished her intelligent nephew dearly. To such a degree that she had not even attended the funeral of the Duke of Visconti, saying she had absolutely no desire to mourn a human wretch.
This Marquise of Vaslein had come up from her Territory to the Mansion to congratulate her nephew on receiving his title.
“She is resting to recover from her journey now, and since you must also be tired from the investiture ceremony, she has asked to meet you tomorrow morning.”
The Marquise of Vaslein and the late Empress knew each other, and because they had helped one another, the Crown Prince and Isidore had been close since childhood.
“While she stays here, make sure she lacks for nothing.”
Unlike his father, Isidore had affection for his aunt. After instructing Miguel, he entered his chambers.

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