The garden party was a success.
Although there was some tension between Duke Sayor and Duke Chambergh at the beginning, the party's atmosphere soon became harmonious, as if nothing had happened.
But that was only on the surface.
The host of the party, Marquis Landrophil, approached Clayton with an apologetic expression.
"I apologize on behalf of what happened earlier, Your Grace."
"It's not something the Marquis needs to apologize for."
Clayton responded to the Marquis's apology in a dry tone as he tilted his champagne glass.
However, despite his calm demeanor, the earlier incident lingered heavily on Clayton's mind.
Where on earth is the information leaking from?
The fact that a black carriage frequented the estate was a secret known to only a few in the family.
But for Duke Chambergh to know about it—that could only mean there was a rat hiding within the family.
As this thought crossed his mind, a wave of displeasure quickly surged through him.
He glanced at Dalia, who was conversing with other ladies not far away.
Surrounded by other noblewomen while she stepped away to fetch a drink, Dalia wore a forced smile, barely concealing her annoyance.
Finding her expression oddly amusing, he let out a faint chuckle without realizing it.
Lately, Dalia had changed, as if someone else were wearing her skin as a disguise.
Her behavior, speech, even her gait had all changed, but Clayton didn't mind the transformation—in fact, quite the opposite.
Today, it became certain.
If he was in contact with Dalia, he could now function even during the day.
The uncertainties he had before coming to the outing were now entirely resolved.
A faint smile played on his slightly relaxed face as he recalled what he had done before leaving for the garden party.
"Pardon? You'd like to take a different carriage? As you may already know, all the carriages at the estate are currently under maintenance except for a single-seater. It would be far too small for the two of you to travel together."
It was an uncharacteristically petty move, but if it was to confirm his suspicions, such measures were nothing to him.
Deliberately choosing a small carriage without curtains, he conducted a sort of experiment to see if sunlight would affect him when in contact with Dalia.
And the experiment was a resounding success. Typically, when Clayton had to travel during the day, he would block out all light by drawing the curtains tightly in the carriage.
Even sunlight streaming through the windows was enough to make him uncomfortable.
But today was different. Thanks to his close proximity to Dalia in the cramped carriage, the sunlight through the windows had no adverse effect on him.
Even before arriving at the garden party, his confidence in Dalia's ability left Clayton in unusually high spirits.
However, there was one problem—the effect's duration was ridiculously short.
It hasn't even been five minutes since we've been apart.
It had only been five minutes since Dalia stepped away, using the excuse of getting a drink.
The familiar sense of discomfort was slowly creeping back.
Clayton's gaze grew darker as countless thoughts surged through his mind all at once.
Could the effect vary depending on the duration of contact? Or perhaps the intensity of the touch, or even the specific part of the body that makes contact?
For instance...
Lost in thought, his gaze, which had momentarily dropped, rose again.
It landed on Dalia, who was drinking water. More precisely, on her lips.
The clean water in the clear glass and Dalia's now-moist lips were more than enough to capture his attention.
With an almost obsessive gaze fixed on her damp lips, Clayton sipped his champagne to distract himself.
It was an unfamiliar thirst.
Noticing where Clayton's gaze lingered, the Marquis made a suggestion.
"Your Grace, would you like to see the pond I couldn't show the Duchess earlier? Unlike this area, it's quiet and full of charm. It's the pride of the Landrophil estate."
As he described the pond, the Marquis stepped closer, as if to share a secret.
"We planned to guide the guests there later this afternoon, but wouldn't it be nice for you to take a quiet stroll with the Duchess beforehand? If you agree, I'll ensure no one disturbs you two."
"A stroll, huh..."
He swirled his champagne glass as he quietly considered the Marquis's suggestion.
"That might not be a bad idea."
Resolving his curiosity was all that mattered.
"This is the pride of the Landrophil family—the pond."
The place the Marquis led them to was the pond he had so enthusiastically praised.
Expecting little more than a pond with a few koi, what lay before them was large enough to be called a lake.
The sight prompted a genuine exclamation of awe from Dalia.
"Wow, it's more like a lake than a pond!"
Furthermore, the pond was surrounded by dense trees, giving the illusion of walking deep within a forest.
"Indeed. It's large enough to float a small boat. The boats are under repair at the moment, but someday, we should enjoy a boat ride here together."
Pleased by Dalia's reaction, his shoulders lifted slightly, as if with pride.
In truth, Dalia hadn't expected much when they mentioned showing her the pond, but the unexpectedly beautiful scenery lifted her spirits.
"Well then, enjoy some private time together."
"What about you, Marquis?"
Startled by the Marquis's intention to leave after guiding them, Dalia tried to stop him.
"I would love to guide you until the end, but as the host of the party, I can't be away for too long. Please enjoy yourselves at your leisure."
"Ah..."
With no solid reason to stop him, Dalia bid him farewell with an awkward smile.
Once the Marquis disappeared, only Clayton and Dalia were left by the pond.
This... this is awkward...
Ever since she used illness as an excuse to avoid intimacy with Clayton, being around him had become unbearably awkward for Dalia.
At least in the carriage, she could feign sleep.
Now, left entirely alone with Clayton in this isolated place, she felt compelled to do something—anything.
So, she pretended to wander near the pond, inspecting the flowers blooming nearby.
Trying her best to act naturally, Dalia's face still betrayed her discomfort, prompting Clayton to let out a dry chuckle as he watched her.
There was only one reason he had come to this place.
To test the extent of Dalia's influence when in contact with him—nothing more, nothing less.
But then.
"Did you know, Your Grace? These flowers are really sweet and delicious?"
Plucking an unfamiliar flower, Dalia began trimming its petals, her expression nostalgic.
"When I was little, I used to eat the nectar from these flowers. First, you pluck the petals and trim them, then like this, you hold it to your lips..."
Concentrating, Dalia pursed her lips and bit down on the flower's tip, sucking out its nectar with gusto.
Her eyes sparkled as she tasted the sweet nectar.
"Would you like to try, Your Grace?"
Dalia beamed at Clayton as she plucked another flower and offered it to him.
At that moment, a breeze swept through, causing her long, white hair to flutter teasingly in front of his eyes.
"...."
As if spellbound, Clayton stood still, first looking at the flower extended toward him, then at Dalia's face.
The radiant smile he had never seen before, along with the faint scent carried on the wind, began to stir something deep within him.
"Your Grace?"
Mistaking his reaction as reluctance to eat a wildflower, Dalia urged him again.
"Trust me and try it just once. It's really swee—"
Smack.
Before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed her wrist.
He pulled her wrist toward him, slowly lowering his head to take the flower into his mouth.
"Oh…"
Surprised that Clayton had actually accepted the flower with his mouth, Dalia froze in place.
Unbothered, Clayton mirrored her actions.
"It's not that sweet."
Only after he spoke in a nonchalant tone did Dalia snap out of her daze and hurriedly pull her hand back.
"Re-really? That's strange, mine was sweet. Then let me get another—"
"I'd prefer to try the same one."
"What? But I've already eaten this one."
As Dalia looked awkwardly at the discarded flower on the ground, Clayton took a step closer to her.
"Not that one."
"Then how…"
He gently pulled her by the nape of her neck and leaned closer.
"Like this."
At that moment, Clayton captured her lips, as though savoring a sweet lollipop slowly.
It was a moment that felt too hot to be called warm and too slow to be called brief.
Pulling away from Dalia, he murmured in a low voice.
"Sweet."
With a faint smile tinged with a hint of regret.