The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 72: A Complete Fool

Chapter 72: A Complete Fool

Rosalie stepped beyond the threshold of the mansion, walking the path toward the designated main gate, as agreed in Damien’s note. An unexpected buoyancy graced her strides, an embodiment of the excitement that pulsed within her heart. Casting her gaze toward the familiar black carriage stationed in readiness, her eyes settled upon Damien, who stood beside it, his back discreetly poised and his hands gracefully clasped behind him—an embodiment of steadfast guardianship.

"Your Grace!"

The girl called him with a sense of urgency in her resounding voice, prompting the duke to quickly turn around, startled by such an unexpected exclamation.

His attire bore a striking resemblance to Rosalie’s, save for the coloration that mirrored the hue of the dark beast’s pelt. His chosen mask, as foretold by the girl herself, evoked the likeness of a wolf.

Upon witnessing him dressed in this eccentric ensemble, an involuntary, gentle chuckle escaped Rosalie’s lips, infusing the quiet expanse before the main gate with joyful notes. The duke, in turn, widened his eyes, a reaction spurred by Lady Ashter’s unforeseen amusement, and spoke In a voice tinged with an undertone of concealed embarrassment,

"You are laughing, Lady Rosalie... Do I look that absurd?"

Still unable to contain her joy, Rosalie shook her head in denial and replied,

"Not at all, Your Grace! You look very cute!"

’Cute?’

Damien felt his entire face suddenly grow hot upon hearing her kind response, yet, an annoyingly lingering thought still creeped into his restless mind.

’Cute... Is that term not typically associated with animals? Can it genuinely be deemed a commendation for a man?’

Enveloped in a tide of introspection and uncertainty, the duke assisted Lady Ashter in ascending the carriage. Yet, his gaze remained steadfastly fixed upon her meticulously curated ensemble, which seemed to encapsulate her essence on more than a purely physical plane.

’Certainly, the fox is the fitting costume for her...’

***

Although a novice to this particular celebration, Rosalie’s heart swelled with the eagerness akin to that of a curious child about to embark on a new adventure. Upon arrival in the Central Capital, the vivacious ambiance enveloped them both, an amalgamation of resounding echoes and captivating views that extended a warm embrace.

A myriad of lanterns cast their warm, golden glow, creating a symphony of lights dancing upon cobblestone streets. Laughter and melodic strains intertwined, weaving a jubilant melody that resonated through the air.

Amidst the throng, people disguised in a vibrant array of autumn hues paraded through the streets, their attire a homage to nature’s palette with the masks of whimsical creatures embellishing their faces, a playful allure that transformed the ordinary into the extraordinary. The atmosphere pulsated with shared anticipation, and as hearts beat in unison, the festival became a timeless haven.

Rosalie found herself at a loss for where to direct her gaze – every stride invited a fresh, captivating sight that proved irresistible, compelling her to yield to her natural curiosity. Immersed in the festival’s vibrant ambiance, she surrendered to the meandering whims of her mind, content to bask in the fervor and jubilation while indulging in whatever fascinated her.

In stark contrast, Damien’s attention exhibited no need for justification to wander. His gaze, a gleaming hue of gold, restlessly trailed Lady Ashter, bewitched by her resplendent beauty and the infectious allure of her smile – a magnetism that eclipsed even the most radiant hues emitted by the festival’s luminous lights.

’She appears... irresistibly endearing. So much so that I yearn for her smile to be a constant presence.’

"Your Grace!"

The girl’s clear voice jolted the duke from his pensive reverie, compelling a response from him, albeit with a touch of bemusement,

"Yes?"

Rosalie, extending her elegant index finger, directed his attention toward a sizable stall positioned to their right. With an unabated enthusiasm that mirrored her earlier excitement, she carried on,

"The food on display is truly inviting. Would you like to sample some with me?"

A smile graced the man’s lips as Felix’s counsel resonated in his mind, harmonizing with his inner thoughts. With a subtle inclination, he acknowledged the girl’s prompting and responded,

"Indeed. Let us explore their offerings."

The array of warm delicacies showcased at the chosen stall by its owners, possessed the capacity to captivate even the most discerning palates accustomed to the Empire of Rische’s finest meals. The assortment of sweet and salty treats proved so beguiling that both Rosalie and Damien found themselves unable to depart until they had savored nearly every delicacy that appealed to their appetites.

"Your Grace, over there!"

Following their satisfying feast, Damien entertained a fleeting aspiration for a moment’s rest to aid digestion. Yet, it appeared that Lady Ashter harbored different intentions. Gently seizing the fabric of the duke’s lengthy black sleeve, she guided him toward a stall resplendent in vibrant decorations, housing an extraordinary selection of drinks, both soft and tinged with alcohol, the latter definitely being the kind preferred by Rosalie.

"Lady Rosalie, are you certain about drinking tonight?"

From beneath her fox-inspired mask, the girl bestowed upon him an inscrutable sidelong glance, a gesture accompanied by a casual shrug, subtly conveying her lack of comprehension regarding his reprimanding tone.

"Come on, Your Grace, we are celebrating today! I promise I will not cause any trouble!"

With a soft chuckle escaping his plump lips, Damien offered his fiancee a defeated nod, urging her to select a drink of her choice, in reasonable volume, of course.

With beverages in their hands, the couple embarked upon further exploration of the captivating expanse within the Central Capital. Amidst this journey, Rosalie’s gaze, agleam with curiosity, fell upon another embellished stall. This particular establishment showcased a veritable medley of accessories, each characterized by outlandish designs spanning a spectrum of colors and forms.

"Oh, that seems intriguing... Your Grace, should we take a look around it as well?"

Deeming refusal unnecessary, Damien gestured for the girl to lead the way, confidently riding right behind her like a loyal guard.

Upon a closer examination of the vibrant, meticulously crafted trinkets, an abundance of inexpensive adornments in various forms materialized—earrings of eccentric shapes, ponderous necklaces, resplendent floral rings, delicate bracelets, ornate hairpins, and an array of other accessories. The selection proved so profuse that one could conceivably spend an entire evening endeavoring to select a solitary item, ultimately departing with empty hands.

A petite, rosy-cheeked girl stationed behind the ample display extended a warm welcome to the recently arrived visitors, gracing them with a friendly smile. Swiftly pivoting her attention, she directed her focus toward Rosalie, who stood seemingly ensnared by the boundless assortment that sprawled before her.

"Is there a particular item you seek, My Lady?"

Lady Ashter raised her hand in response, her lips drawn into an endearingly awkward smile that hinted at the edges of her rosy mouth.

"Ah, indeed... Do you, perhaps have a matching set? For two people?"

The ruddy girl exchanged a swift, subtly mischievous glance with Damien, who, in turn, assumed an air of feigned obliviousness. With a knowing gesture, she pointed at a small beige box housing a duo of identical bracelets. These delicate adornments comprised strands of silver, decorated with tiny, yet well-crafted crimson rosebuds—wonderful replicas of the real flowers.

"Oh, these look truly beautiful! What do you think, Your Grace?"

Damien, inclining himself slightly over Rosalie’s shoulder, directed his luminous gaze toward the object in question, his lips curling into a somewhat content smile.

"Well... my personal appreciation for floral elements eludes me. Nevertheless, if it aligns with Lady Rosalie’s taste, then I suppose––"

"No, it is absolutely perfect! Aurora adores roses and red is her favorite color too! I will take it."

Stricken by the sudden, rather embarrassing realization of his own delusion, the duke took a large step back and covered his eyes with his right hand, a disappointed scoff escaping his parted lips.

’A fool. I have irreversibly turned into a complete fool.’

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