The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 47

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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 47
“So you’re a professor.”
Even being generous, he looked barely into his early thirties—a far cry from the image of a professor Davion had in mind.
And his field of study was… “Animal Behavioral Science”? It sounded like a discipline Cecilia would absolutely love.
As Davion found himself unable to tear his eyes from the business card, the gentleman smiled awkwardly and offered an explanation.
“I was visiting Lismear on business when I happened to receive an invitation to this event.”
“I hope you’re having a pleasant time at the party.”
“Of course. Thank you for your consideration.”
The conversation didn’t continue beyond that. Someone who appeared to be part of his entourage had called to him from near the entrance of the Banquet Hall.
He handed his empty wine glass to a passing waiter, then bowed respectfully to Davion.
“Well then, if you’ll excuse me.”
After pocketing the business card, Davion picked up a Slice Cake from a nearby display table.
His empty hand felt awkward, so he’d wanted to carry something—though the wine held no appeal for him. But of all things, the fruit crowning the cake was a pale red strawberry.
…Cecilia crossed his mind again.
His chest felt heavy, as though weighted by stone. Blake was conversing with political figures at a distance. When she extended her fan to point at Davion, all eyes turned toward him like spear tips.
Wearing a formal smile, Davion entertained a reckless fantasy: exposing his relationship with Cecilia before this crowd of people.
It was mad. And yet—it would certainly put an end to any arranged meeting with Esmerilda. Her family would never want their precious daughter caught in scandal.
But he would never do such a thing, not for Cecilia’s sake.
What was Cecilia doing right now? Recalling her washing herself in the Stream, Davion murmured in a low voice.
“I can’t just blow everything wide open like that…”
“What did you say?”
Davion’s head snapped up. Julian had approached without his noticing, and now fixed him with a direct stare.
“Blow what wide open?”
“Never mind. Just talking to myself.”
“Ah. So you’ve got a girl?”
He choked—not from the cake, but from shock at being so easily read.
“Seriously? You really do have someone?”
This uncanny friend of his… His instincts were as sharp as ever, especially when it came to matters like this.
Sensing danger, Davion tried to slip away, but Julian followed relentlessly, pressing him.
“Who is she? Do I know her? If you met her right after coming back from deployment, is she an Ocktree graduate? Or—did you reconnect with your ex-girlfriend?”
“That’s not it. And Isabel got married right after graduation. It’s been more than four years since we’ve spoken.”
“Does your mother know? Wait—didn’t you mention something about an Arranged Meeting coming up?”
Another stone seemed to settle on his already suffocating chest.
…Was Julian doing this on purpose? When Davion just pressed his lips together and glared, Julian grinned wickedly and gave his back a light slap.
“Go on, make it work. Out of Loyalty to our friendship, I won’t mention this to your mother.”
“I’m planning to tell her myself, eventually.”
“You better. You’re not the kind of trash who’d have a girlfriend and a separate woman to marry.”
In that moment, a third stone landed on Davion’s chest.
There was another reason Davion couldn’t easily confide in Blake about Cecilia.
Even as she threatened him to quit smoking, Blake herself suffered from severe alcohol dependency. She’d begun reaching for wine every day after Theodore left home.
Time had since brought her stability, but there had been a period when she’d raised her youngest son alone, enduring people’s criticism and ridicule. There came a day when she couldn’t bear the stress and collapsed on the street, eyes open but unconscious.
Davion had been only twelve years old then. Perhaps because of it, that day had become his most terrifying memory, one that still haunted him in nightmares.
He was afraid of what terrible change might come to Blake’s “health” if her relationship with Cecilia came to light. Even if he unburdened himself to Julian, his friend would have no solution to offer.
Davion bit down hard on his lower lip. By then, Blake, having cultivated connections with the politicians, approached with them in tow. She was arranging another Arranged Meeting as insurance.
An Arranged Meeting.
That, above all, could not happen.
“Julian, wait.”
Davion, who had been hesitating in place, urgently called out to Julian as he began to leave.
“If you truly value our Loyalty, then grant me one request.”
After all, aren’t friends meant to help each other? Julian had distinguished himself during his academy years as a cadet with such keen instincts and, having undergone Intelligence Training, was adept at navigating the world.
After asking Julian to handle the aftermath, Davion fled the Banquet Hall, discarded his hat and coat, and rushed to Cecilia.
That he wanted to see her needed no further explanation. This time, there was a more pressing reason.
Upon reaching the Cottage, Davion shielded his eyes with his hand and peered through the first-floor window.
Warm light from an oil lamp wavered through the quiet darkness. Cecilia lay sprawled on the sofa, reading a book with both ankles crossed in the air.
A smile spread across Davion’s face.
It was a strange thing. The tight knot in his chest—how it melted away like snow the moment he saw her.
Was she reading something amusing? She laughed lazily and shifted, her oversized Negligee slipping from one shoulder nearly to her elbow.
The living room was bright enough to trace the outline of this impossibly lovely woman. Afraid he’d become a peeping tom by accident, Davion moistened his dry lips and hurried to knock on the window.
“Cecilia!”
Cecilia jolted in surprise and looked toward the source of the sound.
Davion was pointing at the window latch, firmly fastened from outside. Cecilia rose, drew up her shoulder straps, and quickly opened the front door.
Betty had retired to bed long ago. Listening for any sound within the Cottage, Davion crossed the threshold silently and with careful steps.
“Is something urgent the matter?”
The question came naturally, given the late hour.
Davion grinned, baring his white teeth, and held up a plate laden with Slice Cake.
“Stole it from the kitchen.”
At the sight of it, Cecilia’s face drained of color, and she cast about the empty Cottage in alarm.
“You can’t bring things like that here! If we’re caught, we’re done for!”
“We won’t be. If you’re worried about being caught, eat it quickly and be done with it.”
Without giving Cecilia a chance to protest, Davion strode in regardless and settled onto the sofa. The generous two-seater suddenly looked absurdly cramped beneath his frame—like a toy model designed for children. He draped one arm over the backrest and gestured commandingly to the space beside him.
“Come. I smuggled it out, so if you don’t eat it, it has to be thrown away.”
Such a stubborn man. Cecilia hesitated, then approached and sat beside him, drawing a creaking protest from the sofa.
“I’ve never had this before.”
She dipped a finger generously in the cream, then placed it in her mouth and sucked audibly. Davion watched her eager, working lips, his throat moving visibly up and down.
“It’s sweet. It melts on the tongue.”
Cecilia slid the plate toward him, murmuring softly.
“You too…”
“Mm.”
Davion seized her wrist, tilted his head, and licked the cream from her lips. Then he frowned in mock displeasure.
“Too sweet.”
“I told you it was sweet.”
“Not the cream. You. You’re sweet.”
“What?”
Cecilia’s face flushed crimson in an instant.
Davion smiled mysteriously and pulled her hand to his chest, pressing her palm against solid muscle that rippled like a serpent as he shifted his posture.
Tracing his boot along her calf, he asked softly.
“Shall we kiss?”
Cecilia hesitated, then dipped her forefinger in the cream again, painted her lips with it, and slowly tilted her face upward, eyelids closing gently.
Oh.
Davion felt his senses reeling.
“Where on earth did you learn to do that?”
“I don’t know. Don’t ask me embarrassing things—just kiss me already.”
Open on the sofa lay the Romance Novel she had been reading.
Ah, so that was it. Davion could guess the source of her education well enough. He laughed soundlessly, shook his head, and spoke softly against her lips as they met his.
“If you keep reading novels like that, I won’t know what will become of me first.”
* * *
Sweet.
The taste lingered on his tongue still. Leaning against the sofa, Davion touched his tender lips and smiled. Morning sunlight poured through the wide windows at his back.
Blake sat across from him, having concentrated on reading the newspaper. Partway through turning a page, she happened to catch the smile playing at her son’s lips.
“Has something pleasant occurred? You’ve been smiling rather often lately.”
“The weather is fine, Mother. And the dessert is delicious.”
Davion’s smile brightened further as he gestured toward the Chocolate on the table.
“Mother, shall we raise a puppy?”

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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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