Tail’s Curse Chapter 34

 

“The woman you first met as a cadet was also platinum blonde.”

 

He remembered it in absurd detail. Meanwhile, Noah could no longer recall the faces of the women he’d been involved with back then. 

 

Even his first—an older senior—left nothing behind in his memory except a vague impression of whether her hair had been platinum or tawny.

 

Bright hair color, huh? Well, if it was as pale and fine as seafoam, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

 

Unconsciously, the image of someone’s deep silver hair flickered through his mind, and he let out a short, hollow laugh.

 

“Maybe I should just get a wig made.”

 

“Huh?”

 

As Wayne blinked in confusion, Noah waved him off and disappeared into the shower.

 

“Anyway, Brother! Tomorrow morning, you’re eating with Miss Cordelia! Got it?”

 

When only the sound of running water answered him, Wayne sighed, shook his head, and left the room.

 

Noah leaned back in the steaming hot water, tilting his head as he closed his eyes.

 

Strictly speaking, today’s outing had also been to wrap up a pending deal on the way, but half of it had been impulsive. She’d been so jumpy no matter what he did—maybe that was why he’d gotten curious, why he’d wanted to take her out for a walk.

 

“It’s so, so beautiful…”

 

The woman, moved to tears by the utterly ordinary scenery of a seaside town. 

 

Hair like the down of a young seabird, strands fluttering one by one. A face smooth and pale like polished porcelain. 

 

And pink lips parting in a radiant smile, as if white pearls might spill from them.

 

Looking back at him as if she couldn’t believe her own happiness, she had said with complete sincerity—

 

“Thank you. For bringing me out here.”

 

The man’s damp lashes lifted slowly as the memory faded. 

 

A faint smirk passed through his amber eyes.

 

“Guess I am hungry after all.”

 

Wiping the water from his face, he ignored the dull, throbbing heat pooling in his lower half and stood. 

 

The icy water cooled his body, quelling the prickling warmth that had risen from below. 

 

Cleaned and now thoroughly languid, he draped a robe over his bare skin and roughly toweled his hair dry.

 

Though it was no different from her usual uneventful schedule, today somehow felt endlessly long. 

 

It would be best to read a book and go to bed early.

 

His slippers, heading toward the study connected to his room, came to an abrupt halt. His brows lifted as he glanced sharply toward the doorway. 

 

Noah tilted his head slightly. 

 

Striding forward, the man yanked the door open and exhaled a weary sigh as he looked down at the woman standing there.

 

“What exactly are you doing here at this hour, Miss Cordelia?”

 

The pale, slender girl, dressed in white sleepwear, stood motionless like a doll. 

 

Whether it was because Wayne had kept poking at a subject he had no interest in or due to the subtle physical stimulus from moments ago, Noah’s expression was faintly irritated. 

 

When she remained silent, he rubbed his forehead. 

 

It was late, well past midnight.

 

‘And… damn, she looked cold.’

 

The dim light spilling from the room cast half her figure in shadow, the thin fabric of her clothes revealing glimpses of her silhouette.

 

The man’s eyes twitched slightly beneath his lashes.

 

Instinctively, in that fleeting moment, his gaze traced every curve—from her slender neck to the pronounced ankles and bare white feet—before he consciously averted his eyes the moment he realized.

 

He absolutely didn’t want to know, but beneath that flimsy clothing, there was likely nothing. 

 

Nothing but pure, unadorned skin.

 

‘Damn it. Did this girl have no idea how it looked for her to stand in front of a man’s room at this hour, dressed like that?’ 

 

He’d teased her for being childish, but both she and he knew she was of age—old enough to be with a man.

 

“Miss Cordelia.”

 

…Or was she actually trying to seduce him tonight?

 

The smirk that had been forming on his face slowly faded. 

 

In truth, such attempts at seduction were all too common for Noah Tudor. 

 

Noble ladies who acted prim and proper by day would lie naked in his bed or throw themselves at him, while renowned noblewomen drunk on wine had climbed into his lap. 

 

His strikingly handsome face, now twisted with a faintly derisive smile, leaned dangerously close to the dazed Cordelia.

 

“Hey.”

 

His voice, low and rough, grazed the shell of her ear.

 

…What exactly are you trying to pull here?

 

She, who had been silent all along, flinched slightly as his breath brushed against her ear. 

 

Reflexively stepping back, her small foot retreated halfway, only for a larger, slippered foot to stride forward in pursuit. 

 

His presence felt strangely sensual, even as her pale toes fumbled against the darkened wooden floor.

 

The next moment, the shadow of the pitch-black man swallowed even that faint hesitation. 

 

Gripping her trembling wrist tightly, he whispered,

 

“Tonight, I have no patience, so if this is a misunderstanding, I’ll let you slap me once.”

 

“…”

 

“You said you’d sell it for a high price—did you come to offer something else as well?”

 

His tone was unbelievably vile yet dripping with lust. 

 

Pretending to brush aside her long hair, his fingers trailed down her nape before pressing against her bare back. 

 

Twisting one corner of his lips, he smirked.

 

As expected, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

 

His fingers, slithering down her spine like a snake, traced the ridges of her shoulder blades and the hollow of her tailbone, drawing a silent gasp as her lips parted slightly. 

 

Staring at her pallid face from mere inches away, he furrowed his brow. 

 

Damn it, the scent of her skin—his heated breath clung to her defenseless lips, panting like a starved beast.

 

“Why act out of character now? Your innocent act was quite charming all this time.”

 

Not that he disliked this, though.

 

Gliding his hand from her cheek down to her neck and collarbone, he casually tugged at the loose nightgown, exposing the hidden cleavage beneath.

 

His gaze lingered on the faintly visible nipples, hardened from the cold. 

 

Brushing the tip of his nose against the delicate, trembling down, he murmured,

 

“Miss Cordelia, even here—you’re lovely. Are flowers blooming on your little buds?”

 

Unbelievably fast, blood rushed to his lower body. 

 

Lewd fantasies overtook his mind. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment—an unrestrained, shameless arousal.

 

A laugh escaped him out of sheer disbelief. He had thought she was just a child who still smelled of milk—yet here she was, pulling such a bold stunt. 

 

Just the other day, she had whined about being hungry, crawling out in the middle of the night.

 

Noah paused, then tilted her small face upward—too short for him to read her expression otherwise. 

 

Studying her dazed eyes, he asked cautiously,

 

“Did you come out because you’re hungry?”

 

“…”

 

“Answer me. Cordelia Marguerite.”

 

He held her chin, staring intently at her silent form. His reason, initially flushed with agitation, slowly returned as he narrowed his eyes.

 

Something was off. 

 

He had assumed she was just tense, her body stiff from coming here half-prepared, but her face showed no emotion at all. 

 

As if her soul had left, leaving only an empty shell standing there.

 

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her inside. Her delicate body swayed unsteadily. 

 

Clicking his tongue, he swept her up effortlessly and carried her toward the warmth of the bed. 

 

The moment he felt how cold and rigid her limbs were, irritation flared inside him. 

 

Had he really been so stupidly aroused that he hadn’t even noticed her trembling?

 

After settling the limp Cordelia into an armchair, he irritably yanked over a blanket, wrapping her small frame tightly before pressing a hot water bottle—prepared by the butler—against her lower stomach and feet. 

 

Still, the girl showed no reaction. 

 

Unease crept in. Was she sick? 

 

Should he call for Pierrot, even if the man was probably drunk off his mind by now?

 

“Cordelia.”

 

He knelt on one knee before her, trying to meet her eyes.

 

Just earlier today, her face had been as clear and childlike as ever—but now, it was pale as a blank sheet of paper, mask-like. 

 

For a second, his chest tightened unnervingly. Annoyed at his own exaggerated reaction, he rubbed his brows before snapping his fingers in front of her vacant gaze.

 

“Cordelia. Can you hear me?”

 

She hadn’t fainted or lost consciousness. Her pulse was normal. 

 

As Noah studied her face—her steady breathing and dreamy, distant expression—a baffled look of disbelief slowly spread across his own.

 

She was walking with her eyes open, yet she was currently asleep.

 

“Sleepwalking?”

 

A hollow sigh escaped him, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

 

🫧

 

Typically, the education of an imperial noble heir required a long-term commitment—up to ten years, or fifteen if studying abroad.

 

Jonathan Devillier was no exception. 

 

Especially since he hadn’t been the designated successor from childhood, he needed extensive preparation to inherit both his family and its business.

 

Thus, leaving his hometown and his fiancée behind to cross the sea had been unavoidable. 

 

After his brother’s death, his life had spiraled beyond his control.

 

But that didn’t mean he was at peace with it. His fiancée—left alone in their crumbling household after her mother’s death, with no proper guardian—was still young and fragile. 

 

The lively glow of her childhood had faded, leaving only shadows on her face.