Chapter 159: 159

"Ahem, you… You're a girl, really! You're not being modest!"

"I was far from being modest in the first place. Grand Duke Arrot."

"A-Anyway! If you do that to anyone, I will give you a scolding!"

"Well. That's not such a big deal to get scolded."

"Ah, so that's how you're coming out! I guess I'm not scary like Theon and Kyle!"

She shrugged her shoulders and acted with indifference, as if she didn't care about Owen's exasperated demeanor.

As if she had thought of something, Ayla looked at Owen, who was looking at her as if she were shameful, and cautiously opened her mouth.

"Ah, right, by any chance…"

"By any chance what?"

"By any chance, did Lily draw the bath for you?"

"Lily? Why would Lily draw the bath?"

"Because she is the exclusive maid who attends to the Grand Duke. "Drawing the bath and cleaning the bedroom… I haven't seen her in a while, so I wondered if she went to the Grand Duke's residence early in the morning."

At Ayla's question, Owen said, ‘Oh…', letting out a small sigh, and put on an awkward expression.

"Ayla, you… Didn't you know? Lily left the palace a while ago."

"What… Do you mean?"

Ayla's blue eyes trembled slightly, as if bewildered by Owen's unexpected words.

All her luggage and clothes were as she left them.

Contrary to the thought that her work hours had simply been extended, the fact that she was no longer working in the palace was an unexpected answer.

"But she's a child with nowhere to go… Where did you say she went? You must be wrong."

She asked once more to Owen, who was keeping silent.

"Hm… I don't know in detail, but… I think she said she should go help her father. Is that a problem? Oh no, you don't look good. Ayla, are you alright?"

Ayla's face hardened quickly, disregarding Owen's worried gaze.

***

Ayla had a hardened expression on her way to the detached palace.

The cold morning air brushed against her cheeks as she stood on the bridge. Somehow, there was no change in Ayla's expression, which was completely stiff.

A hallway filled with silence spread out in front of her as she entered through the large glass door.

Normally, she would have walked through it while exchanging pleasant greetings with the portraits on the wall, but she didn't feel that way at all.

"She left the palace…"

Ayla, who was muttering to herself, sighed quietly.

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In the end, the worst thing she feared happened.

It was as if she had pushed Lily into a dangerous situation with her nosiness.

She felt a little sense of guilt towards Lily's actions, as if she had run away from Ayla, who found out about her situation. Where on earth did she go? The answer to the question did not come easily.

Ayla, who had reached the end of the hallway, went up the stairs with slow steps.

Inside the detached palace filled with silence, the sound of obsidian stones being stepped on echoed to the ceiling.

She thought that he would still be asleep or washing his face; but, contrary to what she expected, she saw Theon leaning his back on the wide bed.

Theon, who had a blank expression on his face as he looked at the small bottle in his hand, became gaunt overnight.

She wondered what on earth was that little glass bottle and why he was showing a strange attitude since yesterday, and frustration came flooding in.

Seeing how messed up he looked, as if he hadn't slept all night long, Ayla felt a tingling sensation on one side of her chest.

"I brought the tea."

"…"

Her voice, which was lower than usual, echoed inside the room.

Theon, who looked exhausted as if he had just regained consciousness, slowly raised his head and looked at Ayla.

Not wanting to see his sunken face, Ayla kept her silence and turned her gaze away from him.

"Sit here."

Theon spoke in a low voice and tapped on the spot next to him with his fingertips.

Seeing Ayla's hesitancy, Theon uncharacteristically said, ‘quickly', urging her like a child.

"The tea will get cold."

"… You don't give me a chance."

Theon sighed, as if heartbroken by Ayla's business-like speech, and spoke.

Not long after, Ayla, who had been glancing sideways at Theon, who had become extremely dispirited, put the tray she was holding down on the table.

Ayla, who had come closer to Theon as if she couldn't help it, locked her fingertips in his cold hand.

"Are you very angry?"

"…"

As she kept her mouth shut as if her red lips were holding a rose, he clasped his hand tightly with Ayla's.

Ayla's heart began to pound at Theon’s appearance, giving off a decadent atmosphere perhaps because of his messy hair.

Theon looked at Ayla while maintaining his intense gaze.

Soon afterwards, Theon turned Ayla's body around with his large hand, and, at the same time, pulled it towards him with force.

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