Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 20

Braeden suddenly had a thought. Her eyes, which once reminded him of a deep, lush forest, now looked like a murky, damp swamp. It wasn’t just any swamp. It was a cruel one, the kind that traps you completely once you step in.

Even knowing that, he still reached out his hand.

What would happen if he sank all the way into this swamp?

Would even a great demon feel regret?

He smiled faintly, his heart heavy with carelessness.

After all, Juliana Barnett was the only spark of interest that had appeared in a life he had long wished would simply fade away.

Juliana took his hand with a gentle smile.
“If I hadn’t taken you in,” she said softly, “you would have never seen a plant like this in your entire life.”

Every time Juliana visited the greenhouse, she remembered what Countess Barnett used to say.
“If you can’t name this plant properly, you’ll be disgracing the family. So listen carefully. This one comes from the Eastern Continent…”

The Countess was always like that.

Technically, visits to the greenhouse were meant to be a reward, but Juliana never had the chance to enjoy them. Every moment she spent breathing was just more time being shaped into a tool for the family.

That was why dancing in the greenhouse wasn’t just dancing. It was an escape, a break from the cycle that repeated endlessly.

Not a single person left in the hall was sober, and none were serious either. The music reflected that mood, a lively waltz that filled the air.

Braeden and Juliana took each other’s hands and began to waltz to the faint sound of the music.

Crunch, crunch — the soil of the greenhouse made soft sounds beneath their steps. Because the music was so quiet, their footsteps echoed even more clearly.

As they spun to the quick rhythm of the music, Juliana’s skirt flared out widely before settling back into place. Their steps grew faster, and before long, her breathing became uneven.

Flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, a playful smile—when their eyes met, they both burst into laughter without knowing who smiled first.

It was the first time in her life that she had danced without worrying about someone watching or about proper manners. Strangely, Juliana realized she actually felt happy.

Braeden, too, saw something new. It was the first time he had seen her laugh like a child.
There was something pure in that laughter, and he found it beautiful—so much so that he hoped the smile would never leave her lips.

Braeden held her hand and spun her around and around. It was the kind of silly game only children might play.

“I’m getting dizzy,” Juliana said, laughing brightly.

Braeden gently pulled her into his arms. He liked the way her small frame fit so snugly against him.

Her breathing was fast. Braeden lowered his gaze and quietly watched the strong pulse beating at the base of her neck.

A deep, aching thirst weighed heavily on him. He didn’t even know what he was thirsting for—only that whenever he saw this woman, his throat would go dry.

As Braeden stood still, lost in thought, someone in the hall shouted at the orchestra, complaining about the noise. The lively music soon faded into a slower tune.

“Perfect timing,” Braeden said with a crooked smile, calling it his favorite part of the evening.

Juliana, still catching her breath from laughing, thought it was time to stop dancing. She began to step back.

“Just one more song. We still have time, don’t we?”
Braeden gently pressed his hand against her waist, stopping her from pulling away.

Juliana gave a small nod, agreeing. But unlike the waltz earlier, she couldn’t ignore how close he was now.

The strength of his body, the quiet presence of his broad frame, made her heart beat faster. Every time she caught sight of his firm arms, a strange desire to lean on him welled up inside her.

No, I can’t think like this.

Pushing the thought away, Juliana forced a smile and quickly changed the subject, hoping to calm her restless heart.

“Tell me about the North,” Juliana said.

In her previous life, she had no experience with the northern region. All she knew was that it was cold, desolate, and dangerous—a land where monsters appeared and where other races sometimes invaded. She had never really learned much about the place beyond that.

“The North is cold as hell,” Braeden said, moving slowly to the rhythm of the music.

“But it has everything you need. And the people there… they’re a lot more genuine than the ones in the capital.”

It wasn’t exactly useful information, but Juliana still nodded politely.

“It’s also a place full of heavy drinkers, men and women alike,” he added with a grin.

In the cold northern lands, people often drank strong alcohol to keep warm. Juliana had heard of hot spiced mead served steaming in the winter.

“Is the alcohol in the North really that strong?” she asked.

“Everyone who tries it for the first time says the same thing,” Braeden replied. “That it feels like turning into a dragon.”

It must have been so strong it felt like breathing fire. Juliana frowned slightly at the thought.

“Maybe I should learn how to drink,” Juliana said softly.

Braeden let out a low laugh.
“No one’s going to force the Grand Duchess to drink, so there’s no need to worry about that. But if you’re planning to empty every barrel on your first day and earn the nickname ‘drunken duchess,’ I won’t stop you.”

His voice was clearly teasing, and Juliana gave him a sharp, graceful glance in return.
Then, their eyes met.

That single moment—just meeting each other’s gaze—was enough to stop their steps.
They couldn’t keep dancing.

The air around them shifted, becoming thick and heavy with tension. The sweet, humid scent of ripe fruit and strong flowers filled the greenhouse, wrapping around them like a warm mist.

Braeden looked at her pale cheek, where soft goosebumps had risen.
A sudden, overwhelming urge stirred in him—he wanted to press his lips to her cheek, to bite gently at the curve of her neck and leave a mark.

Then his eyes moved to her lips, slightly parted and tinted red.

She seemed like the kind of woman who would only allow a kiss in a formal goodbye. The thought made him smile faintly without meaning to.

“How strange this is…” he murmured.

Braeden tilted his head slightly as he gently brushed his fingertips across Juliana’s lips.

The light touch sent a dizzying sensation through her, and her eyelashes trembled.
She couldn’t find her voice, so she asked with her eyes—What’s so strange?

“Your lips,” Braeden said softly, “they’re sweet. Every time. I still don’t understand how that’s possible.”

He continued to trace her lips, almost as if searching for the answer himself.
But his gaze had darkened, glowing faintly with a dangerous red hue.

“Do you feel the same?” he asked.

His red eyes studied her face intently, as though he could see straight into her mind. The intensity of it made her cheeks flush with a soft pink.

I do.
Juliana nodded gently, and Braeden’s lips curved into a seductive smile.

Then their lips met.

The heat of the contact bloomed like wildfire, spreading through her body in a wave of sensation. It was dizzying, overwhelming.

Braeden kissed her like a man lost in the desert who had finally found water—hungry, desperate, unable to stop.

The thirst didn’t fade easily.

Braeden tightened his grip around Juliana’s waist, making sure she couldn’t step away, as he crossed into her space with raw, unrestrained hunger.

Quietly, he whispered excuses to himself for the overwhelming desire burning inside him.
This is necessary for her to awaken as Floreseco, he told himself. I’m only doing what must be done. What’s expected.

Aileen couldn’t afford to lose Tristan.

If she lost him, she’d be kicked out of the rundown inn where she was barely holding on.

Even in that moment, she couldn’t stop hating her father—for the drinking, the gambling, the shame. He wandered the backstreets like a man who had already given up.

Baron Sanders had been a provincial noble, owning land in the countryside. But he fell for the dream that true wealth could only be found in the capital.

With hope in his heart, he brought the family to Edisha.

But a man who had lived his whole life collecting tenant rent had no real skill in business or investment.

He was tricked by a con artist, lost everything he had saved, and in desperation, started one reckless venture after another.

Before long, Baron Sanders had squandered all of the family’s wealth.

Shocked by the loss, he turned to drinking, and in his obsession with winning it all back, he couldn’t stay away from the gambling dens. It was a bitter, exhausting reality—one that made Aileen feel sick to her core.

In the midst of that hopelessness, Tristan appeared like a savior to her. Right now, the gifts and luxuries he provided were the family’s only source of income.

Fortunately, Aileen had a natural talent for charming men.

“How do I look? Does it suit me?”
Wearing a lavish outfit at the boutique, Aileen stepped out and twirled slightly in front of Tristan.

“You look beautiful in anything,” he replied, nodding with approval.

“If you’re ready, let’s go. Just have the bill sent to the Barnett estate,” Tristan said casually, offering his arm.

Aileen placed her hand lightly on his and began to walk beside him with a graceful, aloof air.

Yes, she was poor—desperately so—but she would never stoop to begging or groveling.

Men, after all, quickly lost interest in women they could control too easily.

Fortunately, Tristan was an easy man to understand.

He wanted Aileen to be his trophy. That’s why he always dressed her up whenever they visited the social club.

She was meant to be seen—someone to show off. A woman with beauty others would envy.

Aileen understood exactly what he wanted, and she played her part accordingly.

The social club they entered was exclusive, reserved only for the sons and daughters of the Empire’s most respected noble families. Tristan walked in proudly with Aileen by his side.

“You’re here. And together again, I see,” one of Tristan’s usual groups greeted him as they approached.

Tristan smiled to himself with quiet satisfaction as the other men’s eyes flicked over Aileen.

Her beauty was among the finest in the Empire. He could still remember the way everyone had stared the first time he brought her here, those envious glances burned into his memory.

“Why is everyone already drinking so early?” Tristan asked, puffed up with pride as if he were the leader of the group.

It was a natural reaction. After all, he now had Aileen, his most dazzling weapon on his arm.

At that moment, the doors at the entrance opened, and Felix Everett walked in.

He was, without question, the true leader of the group.

Aileen, standing nearby, turned her head without thinking and her eyes met his.

When Felix saw her, he lifted one eyebrow slightly, a subtle but noticeable reaction.

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