A pair of gray eyes lingered on the nape of Iris' neck.\n
The man opened his lips slightly and closed them as if he wanted to immediately devour her throat.
His sluggish eyes slowly moved down from her neck to her chest and then to her stomach.
The sharp gaze penetrated her dress, and she felt as if every inch of her body was being caressed.
As expected, it was also wrong to come to this man.
Known as an upright guardian of the sacred relics, she knew how heartless the man actually was.
It was her mistake to think that he could protect her because of that heartlessness.
She had escaped from one beast only to enter another beast's den.
However, she didn't run away.
If it had been the former Iris she would have been trembling as her shaky legs gave way, but not anymore.
Without showing her agitation, she slightly raised her chin to meet the man's gaze.
Looking at her unwavering eyes, the edge of the man's lips curled.
However, to anyone's eyes it was no smile.
Between his blood-red lips, a low, grave voice flowed out.
"Did the flower of Duke Whittle just propose to me? And she came to me on her own accord?"
"Yes. Please marry me, Count Keivrand Green."
Keivrand's eyes narrowed.
From his expression, there was no sense of amusement.
His sharp gaze was trying to figure out Iris' agenda.
"The flower of Duke Whittle."
Keivrand drew closer and stood in front of Iris.
There was a refreshing scent coming from him that made her feel as if she was standing in a forest.
"I don't think you understand what you said just now."
Keivrand's large hand slowly crept towards Iris' neck.
It approached her slender neck before stopping inches away from her skin.
"Do you know what marriage means?"
The hand that had stopped finally touched Iris' neck.
Keivrand's cold palm swept down the back of her neck and stopped at her slender shoulder.
She flinched and trembled, but nevertheless, she didn't lower her gaze that had been fixed on him.
"You should know what couples do."
Keivrand would be surprised by how much she knew if she told him.
Instead of saying what she was thinking, she lifted her index finger and pushed his wrist away from her shoulder.
Keivrand smiled and slightly raised his hands as if to mark his surrender, then he took a step back.
Nonetheless, there was no playfulness in his eyes, which even Iris found to be a little unsettling.
Keivrand raised his hand and pointed to a door.
It was a rude and obvious rejection.
If it was any other woman, they wouldn't have been able to raise their head out of shame.
However, Iris was different.
This level of shame was nothing.
If only she could get out of that house, and if only she could live properly, she would do anything.
She raised her head and looked into Keivrand's eyes.
"Alfred, the master of house Hutch, had promised Duke Whittle the Lavent's gold mine. Duke Whittle will receive that gold mine for handing me over to Alfred."
"You made it formal first. If you want me to use honorifics, you should do it first. I'll show you due courtesy."
Keivrand's eyes narrowed.
This time there was an amused expression on his face.
He stared silently at Iris' face, then turned around and walked to a sofa.
Sitting on the sofa and crossing his legs, he pointed his chin opposite of him on the sofa.
The meaning was for Iris to sit, but she didn't.
No one could order her around in this life.
She wouldn't let anyone grab her life and shook it as they pleased.
"Venott's gold mine. If you give it to Duke Whittle, he'll surely hand me over to you. Venott's gold mine is much bigger than Lavent's."
"Does Lady Whittle think she's worth as much as Venott's gold mine? I don't think that's the case."
"Wouldn't the flower of Duke Whittle be better than a withered gold mine? At least it hasn't withered yet."
Keivrand narrowed his forehead.
It seemed he was wondering how the flower of Duke Whittle had known that Venott's gold mine would soon go bust.
However, Iris had no intention of dispelling such a doubt.
And instead of questioning her, Keivrand pointed his hand towards the door.
"Once again, Lady Whittle. Leave."
When Iris seemed unwilling to move, Keivrand folded his arms.
"I don't care if the flower of Duke Whittle blooms brightly or withers away. I'm saying you're not worth a mine even if it's about to go to ruin."
Keivrand said sternly, looking at Iris sluggishly as if he had lost interest.
"So Lady Whittle, leave. Before I break that pretty neck."
Keivrand couldn't be interested in the flower of Duke Whittle.
She just wanted to reel him in before she revealed her trump card.
I have no choice but to reveal it now.
To reveal this trump card also meant that her neck would be exposed.
She didn't know if he would keep her alive or kill her once she revealed it.
No one knew about her visit to Count Green, and he knew that fact.
Maybe he would try to cover everything up by killing her.
I don't care if I die here like this.
She knew what was going to happen to her.
And she would rather die here than to live such a life.
Strengthening her resolve, she opened her mouth.
At such words, Keivrand's eyes widened.
His firm gray eyes shook slightly.
"I know what you're up to, Keivrand."
Keivrand slowly stood up.
A dark killing intent surged from him as if it wanted to devour Iris' body.
"The flower of Duke Whittle will fall before it can bloom."
Keivrand's hand grabbed Iris by the neck.
Sharp canine teeth could be seen through his blood-red lips, but she didn't even budge a muscle.
"If the flower falls, so will your neck."
Even at the moment of Iris' throat tightening, her calm voice was able to drain the strength from Keivrand's hand.
The gray eyes that were filled with fervor disappeared and curiosity filled its place.
"I know your plan. It'll fail, and you'll die."
"Your only choice now is to marry me."
Keivrand widened his eyes, but soon smiled.
"You won't answer even if I ask you how you know all this."
"If I don't agree to this marriage, you'll go out and reveal that I'm a beastman."
"I won't even bat an eye if I kill you here."
"But if I kill you here, I'll die too."
"Do you think I would believe that?"
"You already believe it."
Iris said in such a pleasant tone that it almost sounded like she was singing.
Keivrand looked down at the fearless woman in front of him without saying a word.
Skin white enough to see the veins, a thin and long neck, a voluptuous chest under a pretty collarbone, and a slender waist.
He had heard rumors that men would drool over her, and indeed, the rumors were true.
There were countless men who wanted to get their hands on the beautiful flower of Duke Whittle, Iris, who had grown up in a greenhouse.
Countless men were anxious to hold such a body, but it made no difference to him.
He had no interest in her lush body or beautiful face that resembled a flower.
What had caught his attention was her bearing.
It could be said that his killing intent had a sense of form.
Although it was invisible, the materialization of it could weigh down a person's body and frighten them.
It was normal for an ordinary woman, no, even properly trained soldier, to pee themselves because they couldn't overcome his killing intent.
But that didn't happen to Iris.
She didn't even look scared.
It had caught his interest.
Also, he didn't think she was lying.
There was something in her eyes that made him believe her words.
"Let's sit down and talk."
Keivrand let go of her neck and walked back to the sofa.
However, Iris remained in the same spot with an elegant demeanor.
He frowned and recalled what she had said earlier.
Thus, he politely pointed opposite the sofa.
"Would you like to have a seat, Lady Whittle?"
As Iris walked slowly toward the sofa, Keivrand could see why people called her the flower of Duke Whittle.
Upright posture with a straight waist and neck, a slow and graceful demeanor, elegance flowing from head to toe, and unshakeable eyes that were as thin as a frightened little bird.
It wasn't long before she, who had sat on the sofa, put her hands neatly on her thighs and watched him.
With an aloof expression, she waited for him to speak first.
"That, I'm a beastman. Or that I'm planning something. Or that it fails and I'm going to die. I'll trust you without asking how you know these things."
"But I'd like to know your intentions for asking a beastman whose plan will fail and will die."
Iris' unshakeable violet eyes finally shook.
As if recalling something terrible, her expression collapsed for a moment.
Her eyes, which fell to the side, turned to Keivrand again.
"I want to get away from that hell."
It was an unexpected answer.
"I thought you were a flower in a greenhouse."
A cold smile formed around Iris' lips.
For some reason, Keivrand found that the current her, at this very moment, was more attractive than ever.
"It's not a greenhouse. And I'm not a flower but a weed that has survived the depths of hell."
It had been less than an hour since Keivrand met Iris, but she had been a constant surprise to him.
He found the situation very interesting.
"Green's mansion won't be a warm greenhouse either, Lady Whittle."
"It's going to be a warm greenhouse, Count Green."
"The world's sturdiest and warmest greenhouse. A greenhouse at the pinnacle of power, where no one can step foot in without permission."
Keivrand wondered if Iris understood what that meant.
"In that greenhouse, I'll do my best, with all my strength."
A sweet smile bloomed on Iris' lips.
"I'm going to live a carefree life."
At that moment, Keivrand grew fond of Iris.
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