The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 30

“Estella.”

Stella, who was beginning to feel like she had wandered into a den of wolves by mistake, quickly turned her head. A fleeting sense of relief crossed her eyes, which seemed like a blend of liquid gold and honey.

“Lord Peruno.”

She grasped the hem of her rose-colored dress in both hands and hurried over with small, quick steps.

“For a moment, I thought the guide had taken me to the wrong place. I couldn’t see you….”

Now close enough to touch, she placed her hand over her chest and let out a long breath.

Islay understood it was an attempt to calm her racing heart. Nonetheless, his gaze involuntarily dropped to her soft curves. He was acutely aware of how enticing her body was beneath the thin layer of silk. The memory of her flushed, under the influence of Lobid, stirred a slow, simmering heat within him.

Yet, he had only looked, never felt her skin under his fingers. When the imagination ran wild, he consciously stopped his thoughts.

His throat moved slightly as he swallowed, controlling the physical reaction that was becoming alarmingly frequent lately.

“Are you all right?” Stella asked, noticing his distraction.

“…Glad you found your way,” he replied.

“Of course, there’s no way the guide would make a mistake.”

Islay’s eyes lingered on Stella’s attire, which revealed her collarbone and upper chest. Her lack of an outer garment highlighted her petite, delicate frame. The northern guests in the banquet hall kept stealing glances at her, either due to her unfamiliar attire or curiosity about the rumored ‘guest.’

Whatever the reason, Islay found their interest in her exceedingly annoying.

“You should wear a cloak.”

“…A cloak? Oh, I’m not cold. I thought it would be improper to wear outerwear while dining. But now that I think about it, I seem to be the only one dressed like this….” Stella glanced around, a hint of embarrassment dawning in her eyes.

Islay took her hand, redirecting her attention to him. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at him.

“Come this way. The dining room is over here.” Islay turned and led the way. Stella watched him, momentarily puzzled, but quickly followed when the sound of shattering glass echoed nearby.

The place where Islay and Stella were to dine privately was a separate room within the banquet hall. As the thick wooden door closed with a click, all the noise from outside was completely cut off. Stella stepped onto the blue carpet laid over the stone floor, looking around the dining room like someone visiting a museum for the first time.

Though not spacious enough to accommodate dozens of guests, the room was suitably large for an intimate gathering, just as Islay had jokingly mentioned before. The intricately carved ebony table was set with silver candlesticks and utensils. Stella sighed as she admired the rich, yet understated northern decor.

Directly opposite her seat was a large window, offering a view of the beautiful sunset and the dense coniferous forest beyond. It was as if the window framed a breathtaking painting rather than a real landscape.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Stella said politely. Islay, who was sipping water from his glass, met her gaze.

“Finally, we’re having a meal together.”

“…Yes. I should have prepared a token of appreciation as a guest, but… given my current situation, that wasn’t possible.”

Islay set his glass down, his interest piqued. “What kind of token would you usually prepare?”

It was an unexpected question.

“Usually?”

“As royalty, you must have been invited to countless dinners. I’m curious what you would give in return to other men on those occasions.”

Other… men? Stella thought, slightly confused, but then another realization dawned on her. “In truth, I’ve never prepared a token of appreciation.”

“Why not?”

Why? Because she had never been invited to a dinner, not even a simple tea party.

Stella felt as if she were being asked why she had no friends, and she bit her lip. However, there was no mockery in Islay’s question; he seemed genuinely curious. She looked down at the dishes being placed before her.

Where should she begin? Should she explain that even if she had received invitations, it was impossible to leave the palace without her uncle’s permission?

Thinking of her uncle brought a familiar gloom. All the stifling and lonely memories stemmed from her father’s sudden death. She couldn’t shake off the thought.

Islay was still waiting for an answer, but she didn’t want to divulge her family issues to someone she barely knew. Stella decided it was better to appear as someone without friends rather than someone controlled by her uncle.

“That’s because no one ever invited me.”

“Are you serious?” He laughed lightly, as if hearing a joke. “Southern folks are foolish. If it were me, I would have invited you every day just to annoy you.”

“Why?”

“Because a meal is a good excuse,” Islay answered without hesitation.

…An excuse for what? Stella, puzzled, suddenly thought of someone unexpected.

A dinner with a hidden agenda. She had experienced this very recently.

“Come to think of it, there was one person who invited me.” Stella’s voice grew somber, and Islay quickly realized who she was referring to.

“It was Prince Hendrick, wasn’t it?”

She nodded while deliberately busying herself with her cutlery.

“I brought textiles that are only produced in Largo. It wasn’t a gift I prepared myself, but… in hindsight, it wasn’t necessary. As you know…”

What the Prince of Pantege wanted was to rape her. Stella swallowed the rest of her words, avoiding Islay’s gaze by looking out the window.

She saw the misty forest in the distance. The northern landscape’s characteristic ashen hues reflected her troubled mind.

Even though coming to Calis hadn’t been her choice, the thought of returning to Largo filled her with dread. The reason was her uncle, once again.

Islay wasn’t a gentleman, but he hadn’t done anything disgraceful to her. From his behavior, she was somewhat certain he wouldn’t change. After all, here they were, having dinner together, with her dressed in an evening gown.

However, she doubted that the people in the royal palace would believe nothing had happened between her and Islay. That thought troubled her deeply.

“Speaking of that bastard,” Islay’s low voice broke her reverie, “a letter arrived from Pantege recently.”

“…From Prince Hendrick?”

“Yes. The letter, sealed with his crest, essentially demanded that I return his stolen bride to the south as soon as possible.”

“Stolen bride?” Stella furrowed her brow deeply. “Does he mean me?”

“Yes. It’s laughable.”

And it was. Prince Hendrick had been the one who suggested taking Stella instead of the cheap gemstones that day at the villa.

Islay poured her drink himself, the juice trickling into the clear crystal glass. Watching the liquid fill the glass, Stella asked, “Did you send a reply?”

“Of course,” he chuckled lightly. “I told him to sit tight and prepare the gems by the next tribute date. If they turn out to be fake again, I’ll rip his belly open this time.”

“…I didn’t know you were still collecting gems.”

“I might not find what I’m looking for in the basement.”

It was the first time he had commented on the slow progress of the search for the ancient gem. However, it was clear he still believed Stella might possess the Mind’s Eye.

Islay reached out, grabbed his glass of amber liquid, and downed it in one swift motion. The strong alcohol, visibly potent, didn’t make him flinch.

“Now that I think about it, something else struck me as odd.”