60: Gentleman or not?

Gentleman or not?

Anastasia didn't turn back to look at the others as she stepped out of the river, her feet moving as quickly as possible, and she came to stand before Prince Dante. Holding her hands in front of her, she stared at the prince's black shoes.

When they had begun to splash water on each other, Anastasia had forgotten her age, along with Princess Emily, who had forgotten about her status. A princess behaving in such a fashion was frowned upon. She wondered how much the princess would be reprimanded for not behaving properly in public. 

"Please don't scold Princess Emily," Anastasia's voice was just loud enough for Dante to hear. "We were only—"

"Did I say that you could speak?" Dante's words were harsh on Anastasia's ears, and she softly gulped when she heard him say, "Worry about yourself before others." 

The other four commoners quietly stepped out of the river and wiped the water off their faces and clothes. But they didn't get closer to Dante Blackthorn, feeling the hostile and daunting atmosphere around him. 

"Greetings to you, Prince Dante," Naila tried to break the silence from where she stood, but Dante didn't react. 

It wasn't that he didn't hear them, just that his eyes were focused on Anastasia. 

Dante's midnight eyes followed the water droplets that dripped from her hair onto her shoulders, and how some slid from her face, moving down her slender throat and travelling down her chest. When his eyes fell on her bosom, which was covered by her now semi-transparent dress, his eyes darkened. With them standing in broad daylight, unlike last time when it was night, his eyes could clearly see the fabric outlining the shape of her breasts and revealing the tips. 

When a little breeze passed where they stood, Anastasia held her hands tighter to stop herself from shivering. This led to her arms squeezing against her bosom, which only pushed them further against the fabric of her dress. 

Dante clenched his jaw when he noticed that the tips had hardened because of the water and the air, and now pressed forward as if wanting to break free from the fabric. He forcefully tore his gaze away from her and looked behind her. 

"Greetings, Prince Dante," the others murmured from afar, bowing at him. 

But the first prince was looking for something else as his eyes raked through the four commoners. He had left his coat back in the old palace, not bothering to carry it. His lips twisted in annoyance. 

Not wanting the young maid's assets to be displayed more than they already were, Dante said, "We will be leaving." 

"Prince Dante!" The young man named Issac called out when he noticed the prince and the maid leaving. 

Dante turned his head and heard the man continue, "We are throwing a little celebration for Princess Emily's visit. There will be food. We would feel very fortunate if you were to grace us with your presence."

The young man's sister whispered, "Do you have a death wish?!" 

Anastasia couldn't help but look over her shoulder, where the other three people looked stunned and shocked. Issac added, "It will be tomorrow evening, in the village."

She was sure that Dante was going to ignore the man's existence, as if he hadn't heard him. But instead he said, 

"You can send the sweets to the old palace. I am sure Emily would like to taste them."

When Dante began to walk again, Anastasia offered an apologetic smile to the four people and saw the man named Issac waving at her with a smile. 

As she followed Dante, Anastasia noticed that they weren't walking in the direction she had come from earlier. Unsure, she asked, 

"Prince Dante… I don't think this is the way back to the village and the old palace…."

"I know," came the curt response from Dante, as he walked with long strides. He hadn't turned to look at her since they had left the riverbank. 

Anastasia wondered where they were going, and as she walked, the soil and silt started to stick to her feet. After a few minutes, they reached a place where denser trees surrounded them. A little worried, she asked him, 

"Where are we going?" 

"To take a walk," Dante responded ahead of her, his words coming out a little stiffly. 

Anastasia frowned. She stopped when a dried stem got stuck to the back of her dress, trailing behind her and making a scraping noise. She turned at the waist, using her hands to reach for the stem by lifting the back of her skirt and disentangling it. 

Hearing her footsteps stop, Dante finally turned to look at Anastasia. She had stopped again to wring out the back of her skirt. When she turned back to the front, about to bend down to pick up the front of her dress to squeeze the water out, he quickly grabbed hold of her shoulder to stop her from bending over and pushed her. 

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"…!" A gasp escaped from Anastasia's lips when the rough bark of the tree collided with her back.

"I will kill you!" Dante's eyes glowed as he spoke through his gritted teeth, a glint of red passing by his midnight eyes. 

Even though the words were threatening, if Anastasia had paid close attention to them, she would have noticed the frustration in them. Dante felt like he was being taunted by this woman, even though he was trying to do the right thing by not imposing himself on her. 

Anastasia, who had jumped at his threat, pleaded with her brown eyes wide, "Please, don't kill me." Did she annoy him by stopping instead of walking? When she parted her lips to explain, "Prince Dante, I—" She felt his grip on her shoulder tighten.

"Didn't I tell you not to talk out of turn?" Dante's gaze burned right into her. His patience had been wearing thin, and this woman had finally snapped it. 

Dante didn't want to hear another word from her. 

Though his Crux had quietly made its appearance, as if healing, he still felt nothing when he touched her, and it only meant she wasn't the one. He didn't want to imitate the cruel actions of his father, bedding women because he misunderstood it to be a soulmate connection. 

Even if he did bed her, what would be the point? She would be elevated from a maid to his concubine, while he would be married to a lady of higher status because a concubine and courtesan weren't allowed to take the position of a wife. And this one wanted to run away, but he wouldn't let her break more rules, not under his watch. 

It wasn't as if Dante hadn't been sexually aroused by some women in the past, but he had learned to control his urges, unlike his two brothers. But this woman was taunting and testing his tolerance in more ways than one. 

Dante heard the intake of her breath when his hold on her shoulder tightened as if subconsciously wanting to claim her. He felt the softness of her skin under his touch. 

"P—Prince Dante," Anastasia said, becoming worried, not knowing why the prince was staring at her intensely. 

"Do you always have to address me by my name when you are talking?" Dante asked her, and he noticed a drop of water fall from her hair to the side of her neck. 

Anastasia felt his hand graze her neck, and soft warning bells dinged in the back of her mind. Was he going to kill her? Her chest heaved in anxiousness. 

"I, how else am I supposed to address you?" At the same time, Anastasia felt his finger brush against her neck. 

Dante wiped away the water droplet that had been causing him trouble, along with this woman. So many ways, his mind answered her question. 

Anastasia noticed him looking off into the distance behind her and heard him say, "Don't use my name. It is annoying." She quickly complied by nodding, but that didn't make him release her neck. She apologised, 

"Pardon us for earlier in the river." 

Perhaps Anastasia shouldn't have brought it up, as unbeknownst to her, Dante had been distracted by her. 

Dante's eyes shifted back to look at the doe-eyed woman, narrowing slightly. She either lacked self-awareness or else was plain ignorant, but one could be ignorant only to a certain extent, and a lesson had to be taught so that she was attentive. 

Feeling Dante loom over her, Anastasia wondered if she had stepped on his nerves. Although the annoyance and anger that had lurked in his eyes had disappeared, a dark gleam remained in them. 

"Should we g—!" Anastasia began, only to pause when she felt the prince's finger graze along her neckline. 

"You seem to have a lowered guard in front of men for someone who wants to escape the palace," Dante murmured. She then heard him say, "Your appearance today, drenched and dripping in water, attracted male gazes. Do you know how a man's mind works… Anastasia?"

Anastasia's heart raced; she was nervous and scared at the same time, as she had never encountered something like this before. Was he trying to scare her?! 

"T—they were good people. Friends, and they didn't mean a—" Anastasia's words caught in her throat when Dante's index finger traced down her neckline, brushing against her skin, making her breath hitch. 

"Naive to think that a gentleman doesn't wear sheep's clothing. That they don't have impure thoughts when they see a ripened woman ready to be plucked," Dante taunted her. When his finger grazed even lower, hooking the centre of the dress's neckline, Anastasia's hand went to stop his hand, but he was quick to grab it firmly. 

Anastasia's heart began to pound, feeling the prince lean closer than ever. She said hurriedly, "I wasn't waiting to be plucked." 

"Are you sure?" Dante's eyes briefly moved to her lips before he said in a low tone, "Because your appearance says otherwise," and he let go of her wrist and her dress before taking a step back. 

Awareness dawning on her at his words, Anastasia quickly crossed her hands in front of her chest and turned away from him. She had been so absorbed with the thought that, as adults, she had played in the river with the princess, that she hadn't paid attention to her dress. She closed her eyes, embarrassed. Not once, but twice now. No… it was the third time. 

Even worse, how many people had noticed it this time? Mortified by his words, her cheeks were set aflame. Kill me, Anastasia said in her mind.

"Let's walk around here for a little longer, before we head back to the old palace," Anastasia heard Dante say, and she opened her eyes. She turned to find him starting to walk before he remarked, "Maybe the next time you plan to go near water, wear dark clothes." 

She opened her mouth to respond in agreement, but too embarrassed, no words came out of her lips and she pursed them instead.

Anastasia awkwardly followed him without a word, while internally scolding herself. She was still trying to catch her breath from what Dante had said and did. Though he walked many steps ahead of her, her skin continued to hold the memory of his finger tracing it.  0

She stared at the back of his head as they continued to walk and bit her bottom lip in thought. She remembered the words he had spoken to her.

'Naive to think that a gentleman doesn't wear sheep's clothing.'

Anastasia hadn't expected Prince Dante to behave… dauntingly like that. He always wore such a serious expression that she hadn't expected to witness this side of him. 

Even though his words implied he wasn't a gentleman, Anastasia was grateful that he didn't turn to look at her as they walked in the forest. She wondered what side Dante fell on—gentleman or not.

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