Sigrid Novel Chapter 95

"Beramund."

At those words, Beramund paused in surprise, then asked as he turned:

"You recognized ?"

"Of course."

"Ah, that makes

happy."

Beramund smiled again. He leaned in and whispered in her ear:

"I recognized you at a glance too."

The low voice resonating in her ear made Sigrid flinch. Co to think of it, this man has a nice voice too. Seeing her startle, Beramund straightened up and smiled bitterly.

Before the song had even finished, he said:

"Shall we go upstairs?"

"Yes."

Sigrid answered readily, in good spirits. Having had three or four drinks, she was in a pleasantly cheerful mood. Sigrid decided to put her worries aside for a mont.

The two went upstairs and entered a random room. Sigrid leaned against the balcony railing.

"The balcony is nice."

"You don't have one at your house?"

"No."

Sigrid chuckled. She tried to take off her mask, but it wasn't coming off easily. Watching her, Beramund reached out.

"Let

do it for you."

"Ah, okay."

For a mont, she felt his fingers through her hair and let out a small moan. Beramund hesitated, then quickly removed the mask. Her crimson eyes sparkled.

"It feels much better with it off. The limited vision was surprisingly unsettling."

"You look like you're in a good mood."

"I am."

Sigrid answered cheerfully and smiled again. Beramund chuckled.

"You're drunk."

"Just a little."

Sigrid said, holding up her thumb and index finger slightly apart. Beramund widened the gap.

"It seems more like this much?"

"Is that so?"

Sigrid looked at her widened hand without protest, then lowered it. Beramund reached out to touch her bright red short hair.

"Red hair."

"Marie-Chez lent it to ."

"Ah~"

"Does it suit ?"

"I prefer your original hair color. But red isn't bad either."

He withdrew his hand.

Sigrid was pleased to have unexpectedly t him in such an unusual place.

Was it because she was drunk?

She wanted to be closer to him. Whether the alcohol gave her courage or blew away her shyness, Sigrid carefully reached out and took Beramund's hand. Beramund looked at her in surprise.

"You always wear gloves."

"Because my core is on the back of my right hand."

"Can you show ?"

Beramund obediently bit off his glove and showed her the back of his hand. The jet-black rectangular aura core glimred. Without thinking, Sigrid reached out and touched his aura. Beramund let out a low moan. The aura core is much more sensitive than other parts. Sigrid frowned as she looked at the core. She spoke in a suppressed voice:

"You have an aura core on your hand, don't block attacks with your hand!"

"That was my left hand."

Beramund soothed, reaching out with his bare fingers to stroke her cheek and chin. He chuckled softly and said:

"Siri."

"Yes."

"You don't need to feel indebted to ."

At those words, Sigrid looked up.

"You don't need to try to repay . I did it because I wanted to. Okay?"

"I'm not worried because I feel indebted."

Sigrid said, furrowing her brow.

"I'm worried because you're important to ."

At those words, Beramund's eyes widened, then he smiled.

"Really?"

"Of course."

"How much?"

At his teasing question, Sigrid fell into thought for a mont. How much, how should she answer that?

"No, don't answer that."

Beramund shook his head. He felt that no answer would be satisfactory.

'I should be content with her saying I'm important to her.'

She had said she liked him, and she had risked her life to help find Rudinal. He wanted more, but he shouldn't demand more than that.

"By the way, coming to a masquerade ball when you have a lover—"

He playfully accused, and her face instantly turned red.

"That's not it, Marie-Chez asked

to co along, it's been a while since we went to a ball together, and she said I didn't even have to wear a dress, so, well, I didn't have any intentions."

"What intentions?"

"To et soone else or anything like that......"

Her voice gradually trailed off. Then suddenly, Sigrid raised her head and asked:

"Then why are you here, Beramund?"

"I ca to enjoy myself."

He answered lightly, and Sigrid crossed her arms.

"Even though I'm here?"

At her words, he couldn't help but laugh.

Even knowing it was a facade, he felt very happy, and she was so cute—

Beramund had thought for a long ti.

He liked Sigrid, found her lovable, and loved her.

So he didn't want to trouble or hurt her. He was grateful for the mask he was wearing.

There's nothing better for hiding expressions.

Now he intended to say that the romance between him and Sigrid was all just a ga. Then she wouldn't feel so guilty, and she wouldn't take a difficult path out of consideration for him.

'But the words aren't coming out easily.'

It wasn't a ga at all.

It was serious.

I love you sincerely.

Beramund opened his mouth.

"This romance is just a ga anyway."

He said casually, as if letting it slip.

'Ah, it's the first ti I've hurt myself by speaking.'

For his own words to beco a dagger to himself. It was a novel experience, but not one he wanted to repeat.

"A... ga...?"

Sigrid asked, her eyes wide. Afraid to see relief or gladness in her expression, Beramund turned his gaze completely outward.

Keeping the corners of his mouth fixed in a smile.

"Yes. That's what a contract relationship is like. Don't take it too seriously."

"I see."

"Yeah. We just enjoy it moderately and end it. After all—"

After all, you knew too, right?

Unable to say those words, Beramund closed his mouth, then opened it again.

"After all, it's the sa for you, right? You didn't seriously think it was real or take it seriously, did you?"

"I......"

The rest of her words didn't co.

Had he been expecting her to say she had taken it seriously?

Beramund smiled bitterly.

'Ah, this won't do.'

He felt he couldn't keep smiling any longer.

"I'll go get so drinks. What would you like?"

"The sa as you."

Sigrid answered in a sowhat dazed voice, but Beramund didn't notice. As he left the room, Sigrid leaned unsteadily against the railing.

She felt embarrassed.

So embarrassed she could die.

And it hurt.

'That's right, of course. After all, Beramund has a lot of experience.'

He was always surrounded by won. He was good at flirting and smiled a lot. Every ti he ca to a party, he escorted a different woman.

So why did I think he would be serious with ?

"Hng—"

Sigrid let out a moan. Why did it feel like her chest was being stabbed even though it was just an emotion?

Sigrid pressed her core hard with her hand. Her heart throbbed painfully.

"It hurts......"

As she muttered, it seed to hurt even more.

'No, I think I'm going to cry.'

It was pathetic. She felt so stupid. What would Marie-Chez and Lowengrin think?

'I'm glad I didn't confess sincerely.'

Though things had gotten complicated sohow, it was fortunate she hadn't confessed. If she had, Beramund would have felt burdened.

Should she be glad she found out like this?

Sigrid quickly put her mask back on. The mask wouldn't go on properly, and she felt like crying at how pathetic she was, unable to even put on a mask correctly.

As she was still struggling with the mask, Beramund ca in carrying glasses.

"Oh? Putting it back on?"

"It's a masquerade ball after all. And soone else might co into the room, right?"

"I suppose so."

As he spoke, he handed her a glass. Sigrid took it and imdiately drank it all in one gulp.

"Siri?"

Beramund called her na in surprise, but she emptied the glass in one go and then exhaled with a "Ha—".

"Are you okay?"

When Beramund asked, she nodded. The alcohol didn't taste strong at all. Or was that just her perception?

"I'll go get another glass."

"I'll get it."

Frowning, he took the glass from her and handed her his own instead. Beramund hadn't touched his glass yet. As he returned with the empty glass, Beramund tilted his head.

'This is strong stuff—'

Moreover, he knew well that Sigrid wasn't good with alcohol. How much had she drunk so far? Is it okay for her to drink at this pace?

Worried, he chose sothing with a lower alcohol content this ti. Though "lower" here ant about 30% alcohol, as all the drinks here were strong.

When he returned, Sigrid had completely emptied Beramund's glass as well. As he handed her the new glass, Beramund asked:

"Aren't you drinking too much?"

"No, I'm not."

Sigrid downed this glass in one shot too. Beramund was flustered.

"Drink a bit slower."

"I'm fine."

She answered and reached out towards his face.

"It's frustrating not seeing your expression."

"Ow, wait, Siri. If you pull like that— wait, I'll take it off. Okay?"

Beramund quickly removed his own mask. Before taking it off, he took a short breath. Okay. Stay calm.

"Here."

As Beramund removed his mask, Sigrid brushed his bangs aside. Clear blue-green beautiful eyes. He was smiling, seemingly troubled but not quite.

"What's wrong?"

"Beramund's eyes are so pretty."

At her words, he was taken aback and opened his eyes wide. Seeing this, Sigrid laughed cheerfully. Her head was spinning.

"Your eyes are pretty too, Siri."

"Are they?"

"Yes."

As Sigrid stood on her tiptoes, their faces suddenly ca very close, and Beramund flinched. He tried to pull back, but Sigrid was holding his face with both hands, making it impossible.

"Siri—"

He called her na again.

'Wow, my voice trembled.'

"Yes."

She answered as if to say, "Go on." Their noses were almost touching, they were so close. Her crimson eyes were srizingly beautiful.

I feel like I'm being drawn in.

It was a cliché thought, but no other thoughts ca to mind.

Should he forcibly pull his head away? Or should he lower it?

If he tilted his head just a little, just slightly, he could touch her lips.

"Beramund?"

As Sigrid called his na, he finally succumbed to temptation. Beramund lowered his head and lightly pressed his lips against hers.

He felt Sigrid stiffen. Beramund expected Sigrid's fist to fly at any mont, but she showed no reaction. Beramund parted his lips.

He saw Sigrid's wide-open eyes. But she didn't move. He thought she might be too shocked, but she slowly lowered her eyes.

She lowered her eyes slightly, then glanced up at him, and this ti closed her eyes. It was an obvious invitation.

Beramund felt like his heart was about to jump out.

Thump thump thump.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

Why? How? Because she's drunk? Has she lost her senses?

Taking advantage of a drunk woman is sothing only a dog would do, but Beramund bent down and kissed her for the second ti.

He'd be willing to beco a dog for this kiss.

If the first was just a light brush of lips, this one was a deeper kiss. He gently caught her lips with his own and softly pressed them together several tis.

Without realizing it, Beramund embraced her and kissed her more deeply. He couldn't rember where he was or what he had been doing.