I Wasn't Trying to Seduce with the Male Lead - Episode 8

Eleanor stared blankly at the mirror.

It had been hours since she had forced herself to sit in front of the vanity, but her preparations hadn’t progressed at all.

Her mind was so tangled that she could hardly move a finger.

It would be better if she couldn’t remember Tenie.

But her memories were painfully vivid.

The smiling face of Lian would flicker before her eyes at all hours, and even the brush of the blanket against her legs would make her flinch, recalling his touch.

When she closed her eyes, the scenes from that time would replay automatically.

No matter how hard she tried to forget, it was useless—his traces still lingered on her body.

This will last at least a week.

Despite his ascetic-looking handsome face, Lian was a very explicit man.

The marks of their intense night together were still clearly engraved on Eleanor’s body—
from the nape of her neck, across her shoulders, chest, and even the inside of her thighs, blushing in indecent colors.

No wonder the memories kept returning even when she momentarily forgot.

And perhaps because she had been so fiercely desired, her whole body had become extremely sensitive.

She would suddenly grow hot or make strange sounds, so she couldn’t even go out and had to restrain her movements as much as possible.

What on earth did that dangerously tempting man do to my body?

She had never heard of a woman changing like this after a night with a man.

How had things ended up this way?

A married woman.
He, the empire’s favorite and the most eligible bachelor on the continent.

They could never be together.

Even a rumor that Eleanor lingered around him must never spread.

Well, there’s no need to worry about that now.

As long as she kept her mouth shut, there was no risk of anything leaking from Lian.

The future duke, famous for his taciturnity, would never talk about an accidental night with a woman of low status.

He had simply been carried away by lust and curiosity for a moment, and before long, he would regret having had a casual affair with her.

If he ever contacts me, it’ll probably be to make sure I keep quiet.

She, too, didn’t want it to be known, but she still felt a faint bitterness.

I gave my first night to a man I’ll never see again.

She wasn’t particularly attached to the idea of “firsts,” but the bitter taste in her mouth was unavoidable.

Still, I don’t regret it.

That was the truth.

It had hurt at first, but later, it had felt so good she could hardly control herself.

Since she could never truly be with anyone, having Lian Floyd Calabria as her first was the best possible outcome.

Countless women would give anything for even one night with him.

She would keep it as a memory.

Lian might not remember it as a fond memory, but that wasn’t her concern.

His gentle hands and lips—
and most of all, that low voice lingering in her mind.

Eleanor.

He had definitely called her by name.

How did he know her name?

She was curious, but Eleanor deliberately erased the thought.

What meaning would it have, whether he knew or not?

She would never find that answer in her lifetime anyway.

Once today is over, it will all be in the past.

Today was the day that, in the novel, Lian would spend the night with the imperial princess.

Tomorrow morning, he would propose to her.

“All right, I’ll erase him from my mind too.”

Eleanor muttered aloud, as if to steel herself.

Then, as though making a fresh start, she sat upright before the mirror.

The first day of the princess’s birthday festival had the entire capital swept up in a wave of parties.

The Imperial Palace hosted the official birthday celebration, but lower-ranking nobles were, of course, not invited.

Those unable to enter the palace attended the many parties held all over the city during the festival period.

It was both a show of loyalty to the royal family and a way for nobles to assert their prestige by taking part in the festivities.

With so many parties held simultaneously, there was fierce competition to invite popular nobles.

Eleanor was unquestionably one of the most sought-after guests.

Wherever she went, she drew a following of young noblewomen—and with them came a crowd of eager male nobles.

Some noble houses even sent her expensive gifts, begging her to attend any one day of the birthday festival.

For Eleanor, this was the perfect chance to promote her books and boost her name recognition.

She wasn’t in the mood to attend parties, but she had to force herself to go.

I’ve come too far to be shaken by something like this.

To steady herself, Eleanor glanced toward her desk.

Amid the piles of invitations lay bills, payment demands, and letters from the Mariche estate.

If she failed to do well in the capital, her mother-in-law would throw a fit and demand she return to Mariche territory.

The fastest way to regain her peace was to quickly return to her normal routine.

With that belief, Eleanor began to apply her makeup.

Eleanor entered the grand hall of the Marchioness of Novershtein.

This party was known to be a little dull for the younger crowd, but its elegance and calm suited her mood perfectly today.

As soon as she appeared, every gaze turned toward her.

In no time, many people approached to greet her.

“Oh my, madam, you look absolutely beautiful today. Is that a new trend?”

At that remark, Eleanor stiffened.

Instead of the dresses she had popularized, she was wearing something different:
a lace blouse buttoned to the neck with a brooch, a voluminous skirt, and long gloves covering her arms entirely.

Of course, this was not fashion but a desperate measure to hide the marks Lian had left.

Yet combined with her slender figure and refined styling, it seemed so elegant that the ladies lavished her with praise for a beauty they had never seen before.

“Come now, ladies, don’t monopolize the baroness—let’s all move to the center. The dancing is about to begin.”

As music filled the hall, noble gentlemen approached the ladies to invite them to dance.

Eleanor received many requests, but she wasn’t in the mood.

“Forgive me, I have a reading soon.”

Speaking was easier than moving her body, so she spent her time chatting with readers instead of dancing.

At first, it was tiring and headache-inducing to engage with each person, but gradually she found it bearable.

Weaving through the party and conversing with people slowly brought her back to reality.

“And so it happened! At this rate, Baroness, I’ll end up marrying for the third time because of you. Hoho.”

Eleanor smiled at the story told by her enthusiastic fan, Madame Croche.

Perhaps because she had drunk more wine than usual, her mood was much lighter now.

She was no longer merely putting on a polite front—she was genuinely blending into the atmosphere.

Maybe I’ll go out for the next dance.

Just as she was thinking that, the hall suddenly fell silent, as though cold water had been poured over it.

What’s this?

It wasn’t unusual for a party to pause momentarily, but for the silence to last this long meant something was happening.

Glancing around for the cause, Eleanor noticed everyone’s eyes fixed on the entrance.

“Is someone important arriving?”

“Seems so.”

Even the ladies near her stood up to look, curiosity piqued.

But with the crowd, it was hard to see.

“Tsk. I’ll get up and look.”

A bold young lady, emboldened by drink, climbed onto her chair.

Moments later, she let out a small gasp.

“Oh my, how awful!”

“What is it?”

Like a devotee who had just seen her god, she drew in a sharp breath, and in the gap that opened, Eleanor caught sight of the entrance.

Her body froze solid.

A tall figure towering above the crowd.

Brilliant platinum-blond hair and the red insignia of the Imperial Knights.

Why…
Why was he here?

Lian Floyd Calabria—who should have been at the palace—was standing there.

He was drinking fine vintage wine as if it were water.

But Blaine, standing in the center of the hall, did not look pleased.

What a boring party.

Fine food was all well and good, but for a young nobleman in his prime, the real fun of a party depended on whether there were attractive noblewomen to meet.

Blaine, though not of high rank, was a promising noble in the Imperial Knights and quite popular thanks to his looks.

At imperial parties, the dancing begins when someone invites the guest of honor to dance.

“This year, since it’s Her Highness’s birthday, she hopes to have the man she loves as her partner.”

The guest of honor was the imperial princess.

It was obvious that the one to invite her would be Lian.

“Of course,” Blaine replied vaguely.

Yet the chamberlain did not leave, standing there as if waiting.

Puzzled, Blaine frowned slightly until the man finally spoke.

“Where is he?”

It seemed he was trying to be indirect, as asking after someone’s whereabouts could be rude.

But Blaine was used to this and took no offense.

Lian often showed his face at a party only to slip away unnoticed.

Before Blaine could even answer, the duke barked at the men standing behind him.

“Hiding at home again, is he? Bring him here before Her Highness notices!”

Judging by their attire, they were the Calabria family’s private guards.

At the duke’s orders, they hurried off toward the estate.

“Will they find him?” the chamberlain asked anxiously.

“They will. Outside of duty, he almost never goes out.”

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