The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 143: The Present

Chapter 143: The Present

The tranquil morning idyll was abruptly shattered by an insistent knock on the door. Before Rosalie or Damien could respond, the bedroom entrance flung open, ushering in the energetic and joyful steps of Illai, closely trailed by the bewildered yet hurried arrival of Aurora.

Disregarding the cautious words of the maid, the boy bounded toward the expansive bed and nestled himself snugly between Rosalie and Damien. With uncontainable enthusiasm, he enfolded the duchess in a heartfelt embrace, his vibrant voice resonating through the room with sheer delight.

"Happy Birthday, Rosalie!"

"Thank you, Illai!"

Rosalie’s gentle smile widened as she enveloped the young boy in a comforting embrace, while offering Aurora a reassuring nod, signifying that there was no cause for concern.

Carefully disentangling himself from the lady’s hug, Illai extended a large pink envelope he had been clasping in his left hand. Rosalie accepted the envelope, her eyebrows arching in mild surprise as she noticed her name elegantly inscribed in the center.

With a mixture of pride and excitement, Illai exclaimed,

"This is a gift for you, Rosalie! I wrote your name all by myself! I practiced every day for an entire month to ensure it looked beautiful!"

The lady affectionately patted him on the head and shot a thankful look at Aurora, who slyly winked back, muttering almost inaudibly,

"Oh, the number of envelopes I had to toss during the learning curve..."

"Aurora!"

Illai nearly hissed, his flustered face a blend of childlike vexation and dejection. He had hoped the specifics of his preparations would remain under wraps, particularly in the presence of the very woman he had dedicated his practice to.

Rosalie diffused the situation with a gentle giggle, giving Illai’s head another affectionate pat.

"It is all good, Illai. Do not be shy. Your handwriting is amazing, so make sure to thank Aurora for her assistance."

"...Thank you, Aurora," Illai mumbled, his pout softening slightly as he expressed his gratitude. Aurora responded with a satisfied nod.

"Now, let’s unveil the mystery inside the envelope!" Rosalie exclaimed, her curiosity piqued.

Brimming with a mix of excitement and joy, Rosalie gently tore open the pink envelope, retrieving a big, square piece of paper displaying an exceptionally well-crafted drawing.

"Oh my goodness, just look at this! Is that... me?" Her slender finger pointed to the elegantly portrayed lady donning a splendid pink gown. With an eager glance, she turned to Illai, who returned her excitement with a confirming nod and a warm smile.

"Yes! That is you, and right here, that is me."

Truly, beside the elegant lady adorned in pink, stood a young boy sporting cascading red locks, clad in the formidable black armor synonymous with the renowned Army of Shadows—an attire that Illai had earned the privilege to don since Logan recognized his abilities and granted him access to the rigorous adult training sessions alongside Imperial Knights.

However, there was another presence depicted next to the lady and the young knight. Or rather, this figure seemed somewhat detached, positioned a few paces away from them as if he did not quite belong.

A tall, slim individual, dressed in all black, and with disheveled black hair akin to the raven’s feathers, his eyes just two yellow dots underneath two thick lines of uneven eyebrows – regrettably, the hurried portrayal did little justice to the real individual that served as the character’s model.

"Is this... Damien?"

The duchess let out a soft chuckle, finding it hard to contain an even larger burst of laughter, before adding,

"It is, isn’t it? But why does he look so ugly?"

"Huh?"

Damien, who had remained quiet up to that point, raised his thick black eyebrows in response to the word "ugly" being associated with his name. Swiftly, he grabbed the drawing from his wife’s grasp, frantically scanning its contents with his striking golden eyes.

"I do not understand, why do I look like the only ugly duckling here?!" Damien exclaimed, his tone a mix of surprise and disappointment.

Illai simply shrugged his shoulders, adopting a nonchalant air as he replied almost carelessly,

"I was not even going to draw you, but Aurora insisted, saying I must because you are Rosalie’s husband. This is just how I see you, Your Grace. No offense meant, of course."

All of a sudden, a heavy silence engulfed the room, the mounting awkwardness palpable with each fleeting moment. Yet, this unexpected tension swiftly dissolved as Rosalie, unable to contain her amusement any longer, erupted into peals of laughter, her melodious mirth filling the entire space.

Aurora averted her gaze, attempting to rein in her own amusement, yet a quiet but persistent giggle still managed to escape her lips. Meanwhile, Illai, initially perplexed by the sudden outburst, opted to join in, his laughter harmonizing with Rosalie’s as he enveloped her in another warm embrace around her waist.

Damien stood as the sole observer, the only one uninvolved in the collective moment of merriment.

His gaze, cold and yellow, remained fixed on Rosalie, who continued to smile and chuckle, enveloping Illai in a loving hug and exchanging kind words with her maid. Despite the joyous scene, conflicting emotions tugged at Damien’s mind.

’I always knew she had this smile within her. I always knew she could find happiness. I made a promise to myself to ensure that, no matter what. So why am I feeling so... unpleasantly unsettled and agitated?’

Damien wrestled with the discomfort of permitting such thoughts to roam freely through his mind. Nonetheless, an unexplainable, irrational sense of jealousy and possessiveness persisted, gnawing at him, and tarnishing both his mind and heart.

He did not want to harbor these feelings, and he could not fathom why they still lingered. However, he had to acknowledge the truth: all the love, tenderness, affection, kindness, and care that Rosalie had lavished on him thus far, he craved for it to be exclusively his. He wanted it all to belong solely to him.

He did not approve of these sentiments, yet he could not shake them off.

All he desired was to have her all to himself.

Him and him alone.