The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 74: Couple Competition

Chapter 74: Couple Competition

’What was that about? He actually knew who I was?’

While Rosalie was kneading through another wave of uneasy thoughts, she felt a gentle touch fall upon her left shoulder, nearly prompting her to jump out of her skin with shock.

Matching her astonishment, Damien withdrew his hands, holding them up as if surrendering, and widened his eyes,

"Forgive me, Lady Rosalie. I did not mean to startle you."

With her right hand pressed against her chest, the girl slowly shook her head, the echo of her thumping heartbeat ringing in her burning ears.

"N-No, it’s quite alright, Your Grace. Anyway, you’ve returned swiftly. Was there a matter of great importance that needed your attention?"

Damien’s head shook in negation, mirroring Rosalie’s relief.

"Rest assured, it was a trifling concern."

"May I interest you in joining a contest?"

The moment Damien finished his reply, the two of them were approached by a short, stocky man dressed in bright red attire with a sparkling heart-shaped mask covering the upper half of his round face. Not waiting for the response to his question, the man handed Rosalie a large, colorful brochure and retreated, offering them a polite bow.

"Embark on an Enchanting Journey of Love! Join our Romantic Couple Competition for a chance to uncover the treasures within a mystical box brimming with romantic magical items."

The girl read out loud the big bold letters in the center of the glossy brochure and scratched her chin, briskly skimming through the rest of the text written down below the page.

’Wow, they do such things even here... Back in my world, no festival was held without such a competition. What a cliche.’

She was about to tear the brochure and throw it away when Damien’s hand skillfully snatched it out of hers. The duke then examined the paper himself and looked down at Lady Ashter, his face acquiring a slight hue of blush while his sharp golden eyes glistened with subtle hope.

"Lady Rosalie... How about we give this a try?"

Damien’s inquiry left Rosalie’s eyebrows arched in sheer astonishment. Yet, her response remained suspended as Damien hastened to forge ahead, his voice punctuated by an awkward clearing of his throat,

"Well... The mysterious magic item box sounds like a rather interesting item to acquire..."

The girl shifted her eyes back onto the red brochure in the duke’s hands and got lost in her thoughts again.

’It does sound interesting – mysterious and romantic magic items. Well, this is "Damien’s date" after all, if he wants to do this, then I must oblige.’

Thus, with a warm smile and a nod, she agreed.

"Alright, let’s do it then."

***

As the two of them approached the designated area of the competition, they witnessed a wide wooden stage, decorated in the same manner as the brochure, with at least a dozen couples already gathered upon it, anticipating the beginning of the exciting competition. Awaiting the commencement of this thrilling spectacle, their collective enthusiasm hung palpably in the air.

"Are you here to join?"

Another brightly-dressed man with a heart-shaped mask approached the couple and without affording them a moment to respond, he deftly enshrouded their wrists with delicate crimson silk ribbons. With a nonchalant demeanor, he unraveled the significance concealed within this ritualistic gesture.

"Every couple is assigned a distinctive color; yours shall be an emblem of passionate red. Now, I implore you to ascend the stage and select a vacant space."

With a surprising excitement powering his movements, Damien gently grabbed Rosalie by the hand, then quickly led her onto the stage, selecting one of the empty couple spots on its broad wooden surface, and simply proceeded to wait until the competition would start, without uttering a single word again.

The first contest was meant for the ladies – while blindfolded, they were presented with a set of things taken from their partners and had to recognize the one that belonged to their man merely by touching it.

Limited in her vision by a thick black blindfold, Rosalie stood on the stage nervously anticipating her turn to choose an object. With a succession of announcements of successes and failures nearing her spot, the chipper host finally stood before her, placing both of her hands on the large silver tray with, what she gathered, five different objects atop.

She carefully slid her long fingers over the things lined up on the tray, yet, she could not distinguish which one could possibly belong to Damien.

’This is absurd! Damien was so excited to participate, I cannot lose during the first contest. But what can I do? I have absolutely no idea which of these items belongs to him.’

Amidst the swirl of her anxious contemplations, an unexpected surge of determination soared within her, prompting her hand to trace an uncanny trajectory. It was as if an enigmatic, inexplicable force had seized her, pulling her toward a singular object, a momentum almost irresistible in its potency.

Initially enshrouded in enchantment and befuddlement, Rosalie’s fingers instinctively closed around the object before her – a soft leather glove. As her touch connected with its surface, a familiar essence coursed from the glove, melding with her own skin in an uncanny union.

’Acme? Does it mean that if I really concentrate, I can sense my Acme on Damien and his belongings that I’ve touched?’

With no time for further contemplation, Lady Ashter decided to let it go for the moment, and confirmed with the host her final selection which the man, his voice resounding in a high, excited pitch, supported with an affirmative "Yes!".

Infused with exhilaration, Rosalie cast aside her blindfold, her gaze alighting upon the black glove clutched in her hand. With an animated flourish, she extended her arm toward the duke, the glove dancing in the air. A radiant smile, brimming with elation, adorned her features, a silent symphony of shared excitement. In response, Damien’s face softened into an affectionate smile, gesturing for the girl to return to his side.

That victory clearly meant great advancements for both of them.

The competition continued, and surprisingly enough, after the initial hurdle was overcome, the rest of the contests seemed relatively easy for either of them, until only the last two trials were left.

The first one was a challenge of strength – standing on one leg only, the man had to hold his lady in his arms for as long as possible until the time was up. As Rosalie found herself gently held in the duke’s arms, her eyes instinctively fixed on his face, prompting her to lose herself in rightful admiration.

’Even hidden behind the mask, his looks are beyond astonishing. And with such prominent strength to top it off... Evangelina is surely a lucky girl to be held in his arms for the rest of her life.’

As if having read her mind, Damien shifted his gleaming eyes to the lady in his embrace, making her flinch and blush at the sudden realization of her own embarrassing thoughts. She moved her gaze away, trying to calm down her galloping heart, while unable to understand the source of her predicament.

"Now, with only three participating couples left, we would like to ask our dear gentlemen to not release their ladies just yet as the final competition is... The longest kiss!"

Lady Ashter widened her eyes in shock and briskly turned her head to face Damien who, on the other hand, was looking back at her with a surprisingly calm expression on his handsome face.

’We have kissed before but it was purely necessary... So why is he looking at me and not saying anything? Does he really want to continue?’

Rosalie shut her eyes as if attempting to muster the courage and spoke first, her voice, however, tinged with insecurity,

"Your Grace, if you do not wish to ––"

"Lady Rosalie, I ––"

Unfortunately, neither of them got to finish their thoughts as at that very moment, it seemed like the entire Capital was deprived of any source of light, drowning it in the all-consuming, impenetrable darkness akin to the bottomless abyss.