A serene moonlight streamed through the window into the deep night.
In Dalia's sleeping quarters, the sound of a door opening revealed a large figure.
The man's steps were cautious as he approached the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping figure.
Before long, the man was at the bedside, positioned near Dalia's head.
A gentle hand brushed aside her silver, thread-like hair and then softly grazed her cheek.
'What is this?'
She sensed the presence of someone unfamiliar, but the warm and comforting touch made it hard for her to open her eyes.
After remaining still for a while, Dalia slowly opened her eyes.
When she had first returned to her room, the sky had been tinged with orange hues of sunset, but now it had been engulfed by pitch-black darkness.
As she stared blankly at it, her mind gradually began to clear.
Realizing the presence of someone touching her, Dalia turned her head. There, she saw Clayton.
"…Your Grace?"
Dalia's voice, still heavy with sleep, was low.
She blinked as she stared at the man in front of her, then quickly jolted upright in bed, startled.
"W-When did you get here?"
"Just now."
She had only intended to lie down briefly, but her exhaustion had caused her to drift off to sleep.
'How long was I asleep?'
She glanced around, trying to determine the current time. Sensing her intent, Clayton answered for her.
"It's past midnight. Everyone else is probably asleep by now."
"Oh…"
Realizing she had slept longer than expected, Dalia felt slightly embarrassed. However, the moment was soon overshadowed by a heavy silence between them.
What should she say? Being alone with Clayton still felt awkward, so Dalia avoided his gaze.
Then she suddenly remembered the touch that had been stroking her just moments ago.
'Wait… was he touching me just now?'
Was it just a dream? The lingering sensation on her skin made her tilt her head in thought, but only briefly.
The man's silent, unwavering gaze on her started to make her uncomfortable.
Should she just pretend to be sleepy and lie back down? Or should she ask him, like any normal couple, what he had done after dinner?
As she pondered awkwardly, her eyes darting about, it happened.
She noticed that Clayton's gaze had momentarily shifted toward her neck.
'Oh no… surely not…'
Does he want to drink my blood?
Dalia turned her head, thinking the reason Clayton was staring at her was because he wanted her blood.
That might actually be for the best.
Since she didn't know what to say, giving him her blood might ease the awkward atmosphere.
So, with a slightly cheerful face, she asked him.
"Do you want to drink my blood by any chance?"
Dalia's clear and innocent voice broke through the silence, and Clayton's composed face suddenly crumpled.
"What?"
Startled by his irritated tone, she flinched.
Sensing that something was wrong with his sudden change in demeanor, Dalia's voice grew quieter.
"N-No… I just thought you might want to drink some blood…"
His sharp gaze made her instinctively watch his expression.
As he stared at the visibly shrinking Dalia, he let out a short sigh and softened his expression.
"I don't need to drink it."
"…What?"
"I don't drink blood consecutively, nor do I drink it often to begin with. Yesterday was just because of the full moon."
"The full moon?"
Now that she thought about it, Lloyd had also mentioned something about the full moon earlier.
'Didn't this come up in the original story too…?'
Unfortunately, she couldn't recall the details, perhaps due to the limits of her memory.
Seeing Dalia's puzzled expression, Clayton continued speaking.
"On nights with a full moon, the thirst always worsens. If my condition is poor, I sometimes lose control. And yesterday was a full moon… It's true I acted a bit aggressively then. But I won't drink your blood like that again."
"And more than that, your blood…"
She waited for Clayton to continue, but for some reason, he stopped mid-sentence and pressed his lips together. Unable to contain her curiosity, Dalia asked.
"What about my blood? What does it taste like?"
She was genuinely curious.
After all, blood was supposed to taste like metallic iron—what could he possibly find so remarkable about it? She wanted a brief comment on the taste, but…
"It's tasteless."
"…Pardon?"
Hearing Clayton firmly declare her blood tasteless; Dalia was dumbfounded.
Wait, then what was the reason for all his previous struggle and restraint?
Faced with such an absurd response, Dalia was at a loss for words.
She asked again, hoping for a proper explanation, but he simply deflected her question.
Then Clayton's gaze naturally shifted downward. Realizing where he was looking, Dalia covered her wound with her right hand.
"Did it hurt?"
She wasn't expecting him to say something dramatic like, "It was exquisite, like a taste of a new world."
But to bluntly say it was "tasteless"? As someone who had fainted after giving him blood, she couldn't help but feel a bit indignant.
So, when he asked if it hurt, Dalia pouted, feeling a bit annoyed.
Not really. It just felt like a mosquito bite."
She intentionally compared it to a mosquito bite to irritate him, but somehow, Clayton's expression became even more relaxed.
Eventually, he let out a cool laugh.
"Thank you for thinking so little of it."
It was the first time she had seen such an expression on Clayton's face.
She had thought he only had cold or predatory expressions, but now he looked genuinely amused by what she had said.
So, without realizing it, Dalia found herself staring blankly at Clayton's face. Then, he asked another question.
"By the way, I heard you said you didn't need a medical examination."
It seemed he had heard from Jason that she refused to see the doctor.
She hadn't expected him to care enough to bring it up, so she quickly explained herself, worried he might press the issue.
"Oh, it's really fine. I only fainted because I was tired. All I need is enough sleep, so there's no need for an examination. I know my body best, after all."
As he listened to Dalia's adamant refusal for a medical examination, Clayton pondered for a moment before nodding.
"Alright. If you don't want to, you don't have to. But if you feel even slightly unwell, get checked immediately. That doctor is quite skilled, after all."
"Yes, I understand."
Fortunately, Clayton didn't argue further and respected her wishes.
'Still, for him to say I don't have to do something if I don't want to…'
It wasn't something she ever expected to hear from such a domineering male lead.
Clayton's unexpectedly kind words, so unlike him, brought an involuntary smile to Dalia's lips.
While she was silently replaying the earlier conversation in her mind, Clayton stood up, seemingly ready to retire for the night.
Then, without hesitation, he took off the robe he had been wearing.
Her gaze instinctively followed the well-sculpted form of his torso.
And then, standing there was a man in an embarrassing state she couldn't even bring herself to describe. Flustered, Dalia stammered and quickly turned her head away.
"W-What are you doing…!"
"Getting ready for bed."
His expression, as if to say, "Is there a problem?" made Dalia's face pale.
In response to his composed tone, Dalia asked again in a trembling voice.
"…Do you always sleep like that?"
She wondered if he was being serious.
After all, Clayton was truly standing there without a stitch of clothing on.
The only saving grace was that the shadows naturally obscured certain parts of him.
Even though the darkness concealed much of his body, the embarrassment remained.
So, she covered her face with both hands and continued speaking.
"H-How about wearing some pants? You're not sleeping alone tonight, and…"
However, her protest was cut off by Clayton's firm question.
"What's the problem?"
"Well…!"
A problem.
Come to think of it, there wasn't exactly a clear "problem."
They were, after all, officially married—and they had already crossed certain boundaries.
It was simply that, despite their physical intimacy, they hadn't shared a bed before, making the situation awkward. For other couples, this might be completely normal.
Realizing this, Dalia found herself at a loss for words and clamped her mouth shut.