The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 24: He Is Just My Type!

Chapter 24: He Is Just My Type!

It had grown quiet and awkward again, but what intensified the discomfort inside Damien’s study was his intense gaze fixated on Rosalie’s right hand, compelling her to eventually conceal it within the folds of her skirt. Just as she prepared to execute her plan, the Duke unexpectedly seized her wrist, his face contorted with a blend of subtle fear and confusion.

’She is so thin, I could hold both her wrists in one hand...’

Alarmed by the realization, he loosened his grip, afraid of causing harm, and spoke with genuine sadness in his voice.

"Ugh... You’re injured, Lady Rosalie."

"Ah!"

Overwhelmed by her emotions, Rosalie exclaimed loudly, startling Damien, and prompting him to release her hand.

"Oh, I apologize. Did it hurt?"

"No, it’s just... I got startled, and... I thought you were appalled by the sight of my scar."

Damien’s eyes widened, and a blush colored his cheeks. It was intriguing how easily he could blush. He shook his head and almost shouted,

"No, of course not! I was just concerned because it appears that the wound hasn’t fully healed yet. I will summon the Priest immediately. This needs to be attended to as soon as possible."

As he was about to stride out of the room, Rosalie couldn’t help but release a hearty scoff, trying her best to suppress full-blown laughter. The man halted and turned back, utterly confused, which only fueled her amusement further. Finally, she regained her composure and glanced down at her right hand, a bright smile still illuminating her beautiful face.

"It’s alright, Your Grace. I don’t believe it’s necessary to call for a Priest over such a minor wound. Unless, of course, you find it repulsive."

Damien couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

"My decision is final; the Priest will arrive as soon as possible. For now, your bedroom should be prepared, and Richard will escort you there for some rest."

Damien opened the door and guided Rosalie out of his study. They were met by the Head Butler, whose smile remained as warm and welcoming as during their first meeting.

"If you would please follow me, Lady Rosalie, I will show you to your bedroom."

"Alright."

Rosalie turned her face, looking somewhat puzzled, and directed her gaze at the Duke.

"And what about you, Your Grace? What will you be doing?"

Damien nodded at Felix, who had just emerged from behind the corridor’s wall, then shifted his golden eyes to Rosalie and smiled.

"I have an errand to attend to, so I will be away for a few hours while you rest. Do not worry, I will return before dinner time."

The butler offered his master a bow and gestured for Lady Ashter to follow him deeper into the mansion. Once they disappeared behind a wall, Damien called his aide closer and asked, his voice turning serious and cold once again,

"Have you prepared my coach?"

"Yes, Your Grace, everything is ready."

Damien ran his long fingers through his thick black hair and let out a deep sigh. He then took a new jacket handed to him by Felix and carelessly draped it over his broad shoulders. Despite this, his look seemed incomplete.

Felix fidgeted for a moment, glancing at his lord from beneath his silver eyebrows, and asked timidly,

"Um, Your Grace... What exactly are you planning to do when you arrive? Isn’t it meant to be a formal visit?"

The Duke furrowed his eyebrows, his golden eyes flickering with a subtle hint of red. Tired of his aide’s indecisiveness, he snatched his black sword from Felix’s trembling hands and replied firmly,

"Yes, this will be a formal visit. And this—"

He shook the sword in front of Felix’s face and continued,

"—is my formal attire. Now, send a messenger to the Temple and request the presence of a priest or a magical healer. And..."

Damien let out another long exhale. The weight of numerous matters that had descended upon him in a single day had already begun to make his head spin.

"Go to Lady Cecilia’s Boutique and place an order for a hundred dresses. She will need to come to take measurements first thing tomorrow morning. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Then, I shall take my leave."

Felix watched his Lord leave and could not help but feel uneasy. Apart from all the nasty rumors circulating among the nobility, Rosalie Ashter was a dark horse, and there was no way of telling whether she would bring Damien happiness or heartache.

***

The guest bedroom in the Duke’s mansion enveloped Rosalie in an aura of serenity and comfort. Bathed in natural sunlight streaming through delicate lace curtains, the room exuded a warmth unlike any she had experienced before.

Soft pastel hues adorned the walls, contrasting with the richness of the plush velvet drapes. A lavish canopy bed, adorned with intricately embroidered linens, beckoned her to sink into its embrace.

This room, a sanctuary of tranquility and elegance, embraced her with every detail, signaling the care and consideration of her esteemed host.

’Such a striking contrast to his study...’

Once Rosalie finished examining her new room, the Butler asked for her attention with a subtle cough and stepped away from the door, inviting an unfamiliar gentleman inside.

"Lady Rosalie, this is Sir Logan Vold, His Grace assigned him as your personal guard."

Richard gestured towards the knight dressed in the Black Imperial Uniform, and Rosalie instantly recognized him as one of the warriors belonging to the First Division of the Imperial Knights, also known as the Army of Shadows, led by Damien Dio himself.

The knight approached Rosalie with a confident stride and offered her a respectful ninety-degree bow, placing his right hand over the left side of his chest. He then straightened up and smiled.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, My Lady."

As the knight’s face drew closer to Rosalie, her entire body instinctively flinched, causing her to nearly jump away.

"Wow..."

The towering knight commanded attention with his imposing height, strong and muscular physique, yet, it was his face that mesmerized Lady Ashter the most.

Framed by a cascade of fiery red hair, his features possessed a delicate allure that defied traditional expectations. His eyes, a captivating shade of crimson, held an enigmatic depth, drawing one’s gaze like a magnetic force. With chiseled cheekbones, soft lips, and flawless skin, his countenance radiated ethereal beauty, a juxtaposition that most definitely both bewildered and enchanted those who encountered him.

Noticing a clear shade of bewilderment spreading over the faces of both the butler and the knight, Rosalie cleared her throat and smiled.

"I apologize, you are just incredibly beautiful! I mean, for a knight!"

Logan blinked his thick, long eyelashes, his eyes still wide and round, then returned the smile and sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Oh dear, I hear that quite often! But believe me, My Lady, when it comes to physical strength and endurance, the only person surpassing me is His Grace Duke Damien Dio!"

He concluded his enthusiastic statement with a bashful chuckle, and Rosalie couldn’t help but laugh along.

’He has both stunning looks and a Golden Retriever personality. He’s just my type!’