Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 164

Thinking this wasn’t right, Macy tried to take the watch from his hand. Eren easily avoided her attempt and raised the watch high above her head.

“I like it.”

“I’m sorry! I really will give you something else! Please, just give it back!”

She tried again, but no matter how fast she moved, the height difference made it impossible for her to reach it.

“I said I liked it, didn’t I?”

“Ugh!”

After a brief struggle, Eren pulled Macy into his arms and kissed her forehead, pulling her tightly against him. The movement was so sudden.

“I’ve never felt like your art has been this useful, but I really like it.”

Looking around, Macy realized people were watching them with keen interest.

Her face flushed bright red.

“W-What are you—”

“I don’t think I can wait until we get to the cabin.”

“Mm!”

Eren pressed his lips against hers, and Macy struggled to push him away, but once again, it was futile. His wet tongue traced her lips, sliding between her teeth with eager force.

“Uh, people are watching!”

“Let them watch.”

Eren shamelessly responded, holding her chin and tilting her head back. He forced her head back, pushing his heated tongue deeper into her mouth.

In the haze of the moment, Macy saw his face. Eren’s expression had taken on an unfamiliar intensity.

It felt playful, almost like a shy young boy unable to control his rising emotions.

If he hadn’t been involved in the Duke’s affairs, would kissing on the street have been something special to him?

Macy couldn’t help but think that if Eren had grown up without his current responsibilities, she might have kissed him like this without a second thought, regardless of the people around them.

As Duke Krygen, Eren exuded a more composed aura, but his inherently arrogant nature remained the same.

Thinking about that, Macy’s strength faltered, and her eyelids fluttered shut.

A cool breeze from the river carried the faint scent of flowers. It was the same fragrant scent from the spring festival. The memory of that day bloomed beautifully inside her.

* * *

Ottilie Krygen entered the dining hall with graceful steps. Despite the early hour, Ottilie wore an elegant white dress, resembling a swan. On the long table, breakfast for two was set, but the seats were empty. After a brief frown, Ottilie turned to the butler.

“Where is Prince Benedict?”

“He’s not feeling well, so he won’t be attending breakfast.”

“Again?”

Ottilie clicked her tongue sharply and left the dining hall. Her attendants followed her in a line.

This was the Krygen family estate. Ottilie, originally from the royal family of Ciseina, had fallen in love with the late Duke Krygen and even went as far as to marry him and take up foreign citizenship.

Everything in the Krygen estate—from the walls and floors to the carpets, tapestries, curtains, and even the quill pens and vases—had Ottilie’s touch.

As the Krygen Madam, Ottilie was flawless, and her refined artistic sense, cultivated in the royal family of Ciseina, had earned her the position of chairperson at the Obelit Academy of Fine Arts.

Known for her charity work, Ottilie had established a scholarship foundation to support the underprivileged, providing education and nurturing talent regardless of their social status. She was widely recognized as a benevolent Duchess.

The Krygen family, with its strong sense of nobility and duty, was the perfect match for her.

Her life seemed flawless, without a single misstep. But even she had her exceptions.

‘Why is Rubens involved with someone like that… tsk.’

Every time such things happened, Ottilie saw her true self exposed. When it came to her direct family, she became an inflexible noble, full of elitism.

“Tell him.”

Ottilie arrived at Prince Benedict’s bedroom door and addressed the Ciseina attendant standing by. The attendant cautiously opened the door and entered, only to come out shortly after with a troubled expression.

“Prince Benedict said he’s not feeling well and will see you another time.”

It was the same message as before. Benedict had been saying the same thing to Ottilie for days. Her brows furrowed in displeasure.

“Prince Benedict. Ottilie Krygen will be entering.”

“Elder Madam, wait—”