The Villainess Captured The Grand Duke - Chapter 156

Chapter 156

“It’s the first time we’ve shared a room since being in the capital, isn’t it? ”

Scheuer’s innocent smile was utterly defenseless, as if she truly had no idea of the situation she’d walked into. Despite that, her gaze subtly drifted over his dishevelled appearance, seemingly observing him without any particular intent. 

By now, Raygrain was used to that look, but it still felt detached and neutral. To her, he remained nothing more than someone to observe from a distance, and that thought was unbearable.

Scheuer was always surrounded by people, yet the only reason he stood out was because she sought him out. If she loses interest in me, would I become no different from anyone else? Raygrain couldn’t discern what set him apart from the ornamental flowers in the garden—cared for tenderly, watered, and nurtured, but only that. It was exactly the same with her.

When he didn’t respond and simply stared at her, Scheuer tilted her head, her eyes locking onto his. Feeling self-conscious, she hugged the pillow tighter and spoke.

“Congratulations on the marriage.”

“One might think it was someone else’s wedding,” he remarked dryly.

“Even so, I wanted to congratulate you.”

Her cheerful voice had a slight undertone of excitement, as if the whole situation was new and amusing to her. But that wasn’t the only thing out of the ordinary. Raygrain’s gaze naturally shifted to the pillow she was holding. Whether it was because she was small or the pillow was large, most of her body was hidden behind it, save for her face and limbs.

Noticing his curiosity, Scheuer lifted the edge of her slip with one hand and explained, 

“It’s just for the occasion. Since it’s the first night, Cali probably wanted me to wear it.”

A faint scent of flowers drifted around her as she moved, mingling with her natural fragrance. What usually would have given him a headache now seemed more pleasant, perhaps because it was intertwined with her own scent. Meanwhile, Scheuer appeared as composed as ever, not much different from her usual self.

“Well, when I returned from the banquet hall, all the mercenaries were sprawled out, completely drunk,” she continued nonchalantly, swinging her legs from where she sat at the edge of the large bed.

“Roban was so drunk that he kept crying about how the strawberries soaked in sugar were too sweet.”

Before she could finish, Raygrain moved. The distance that had taken her several steps to cover was closed by him in just a few strides.

As he approached, her chattering finally came to a halt. Raygrain calmly asked, 

“What about the High Priest? ”

“Lord Leilda has detained him,” she replied.

“And the others from the center? ”

“The mercenaries are being handled by Peyton. Lady Betty returned early with Lady Solle.”

Scheuer seemed to be in a good mood, happy to have reunited with everyone. She lifted her arm toward him, revealing her wrist.

“I made some perfume from the flowers in the garden. I only have one bottle so far, but if you’re okay with it, I’d like to leave it at the top.”

Without hesitation, Raygrain grabbed her slender arm with one hand. He brought her hand closer to his face and inhaled deeply, prompting a flicker of realization in her expression. Her eyes blinked as her gaze wandered around for a moment before returning to him. She’s slow, he thought, finding it endearing.

This was a rare moment—one where he could fully command her attention. Meanwhile, Scheuer stared at him, her mind occupied. Ever since his return from the West, Raygrain has been acting strangely. She could clearly sense the difference. Where he had once been occasionally stiff and awkward, now it felt as though he had completely lost control, like someone whose brakes had failed. As he continued to move closer, her unease grew, and she babbled more frantically.

“Did you see the wedding portrait? ”She asked.

“No,” he replied.

“It turned out really well.”

With a creak, Raygrain’s solid arms moved to either side of her, supporting his body as he leaned forward. The weight of his large frame caused her to feel unstable even while sitting upright. As his hand released her, his upper body closed the gap between them, their noses almost brushing. The space between them felt so fragile that even breathing seemed delicate, and speaking became daunting.

Scheuer whispered softly,

“The perfume…”

“It suits you,” Raygrain interrupted.

“No, not me.”

“If it’s not for you, I don’t care.”

As if anticipating her every move, he followed her when she tried to turn her head. No matter how subtly she tried to create distance, she remained enveloped in his embrace, unable to escape his reach. His slightly hoarse voice, along with the soft exhale that escaped his lips, grazed her own.

Scheuer held onto the pillow tightly, wishing her hands were free so she could at least try to push him away. She had foolishly grabbed it to cover her slightly revealing slip, a misstep that left her defenseless. This is dangerous.

“Your Grace, actually, I—”

“Raygrain.”

“…Pardon?”

“You call the High Priest by his name without fail, so how long do I remain just ‘Your Grace’ to you?”

His head tilted slightly as Scheuer flustered and instinctively backed away. She lost her balance and fell onto the bed. She tried to sit up, but Raygrain followed her movements, leaving her no space to retreat. His low voice whispered, 

“You once said that affection comes from what you call someone.”

“That’s not possible,” she replied, her refusal surprisingly serious.

He paused. “Why not? ”

“How could I possibly dare to call Your Grace by name…? ”

“I’ve already given you permission.”

But to Scheuer, this was about more than just permission. Raygrain frowned slightly, clearly displeased. 

“We kissed at the wedding, didn’t we? Now this? ”

“That was just part of the ceremony. It didn’t mean anything beyond that.”

Scheuer planned to stay by his side until the end of the original story when she was certain he would be safe. Once he was out of danger, she thought she might eventually divorce him and settle in the North, where she could watch him from afar. His happiness was her priority, not her own pleasure in watching him.

“You should meet someone who suits you better.”

With a hint of anger, he replied in a low voice, 

“I don’t need that.”

He nipped at her lower lip gently, not causing pain but leaving her startled. As she braced herself on his shoulder, he asked again, 

“Have you really never felt anything more for me? ”

He pressed his lips against hers again, this time more firmly. It felt as if the world around her faded away, and she struggled to articulate her thoughts. Each time she tried to speak, he silenced her with his kiss.

“When I look at you,” he murmured, “I want to devour you, from head to toe.”

This time, the kiss was deeper and longer. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, but her body refused to respond. The pounding of her heart in her ears made her thoughts blur even more. She couldn’t even remember what his room looked like anymore. His head dipped further, and his breath filled the space between her parted lips, warm and steady. His touch, unlike his sharp gaze, was gentle.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and Raygrain finally pulled back, though only slightly. 

“That’s how I’ve felt when I look at you for a long time now.”

His lips glistened in the dim light as he spoke again, leaning in. 

“If you taught me what emotions are, then you should also teach me how to deal with them.”

“Audere est Facere”