"Roxana. Follow me."
"Now? Right this instant?"
Flustered, Roxana shook her head and looked at Robert. At the same time, a sharp gaze also turned toward Robert.
"Butler..."
"I am quite alright. The party will be breaking up soon anyway. Go on ahead. Quickly now."
Robert waved his hand dismissively. With no other choice, Roxana followed behind Curtis.
***
The place where Roxana was practically dragged to was the Lord’s chambers. No sooner had he locked the door than Curtis cornered her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb."
Roxana, who had instinctively stepped back to avoid Curtis, caught her heel on an armchair and slumped into it.
"You made eye contact."
Curtis, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed ready to swallow her whole, strode forward and gripped the armrests of the chair tightly. He then leaned down, bringing his face inches from hers. Feeling the tension in the air, Roxana lowered her gaze and apologized calmly.
"If you mean just now, I’m sorry if it bothered you."
"What happened?"
"Watching you... with the Princess."
That was the reason Alice and Kesi had stopped her as she was passing through the backyard to head to the banquet hall. Even from a distance, the two had looked intimate. When Curtis had wrapped his arm around the Princess’s waist, an inexplicable pain had pierced her heart.
She should have turned around and walked away, but she couldn't. When she had turned her head and met Curtis’s eyes, it felt as if her breath had been stolen away.
Afterward, she had managed to look away and flee to the banquet hall, but the scene kept replaying in her mind. She had tried to forget it by talking to Robert, but it was all in vain.
"Anyone would feel uncomfortable watching someone they have feelings for with someone else. I’m sorry."
"Someone I have feelings for?"
Curtis, as if drained of energy, pulled his hands away from the armrests. He straightened his posture, threw his head back, and let out a short laugh, as if he had heard an absurd joke. However, when he pulled his head back down, there was no trace of laughter on his face.
"That’s what you want, isn't it? Because that’s the only way you can escape from me."
That wasn't true. She had never thought such a thing, but Roxana kept her lips tightly sealed. Taking her silence as an admission, Curtis’s expression grew even more menacing.
"You are my mistress. Whether you wanted it or not, as long as I desire it, you are mine."
"I know. You’ve told me time and again. That I must never be happy."
"..."
"I won't say anything else now. No matter how much I struggle, the fact that I am the daughter of a sinner will never change."
She had spoken the truth in an attempt to soothe him, but the face she met was even more distorted. Roxana felt confused by his reaction. Curtis Russell, her former first love, was a man who could never be fathomed. He was like a riddle, appearing graspable like mist but never truly held.
He had saved her life from the cold and the wolves, yet on the other hand, he had driven her to the edge by hiding the death of the Mother Superior. He had forced her to become his mistress by holding her cousin hostage when she showed hostility out of grief, yet he had accepted her conditions—which, in a way, made no sense. Perhaps it was out of pride.
"Try to take a step back and look at that person differently."
At her mother’s words, which suddenly came to mind, Roxana suppressed her anger. He had been forced to do a man’s work at a young age. He had to protect his blind sister and protect himself. It was only natural that he had become twisted. She couldn't understand it, but she had to try. He was fire, and she was water.
"Curtis."
Roxana called his name calmly and gathered her thoughts. No matter how she looked at it, she hadn't done anything to warrant Curtis’s anger. On the contrary, she had quietly learned to manage the castle’s household as he instructed and had worked day and night to assist Robert during the King’s visit.
She had lived quietly, as if she were invisible, but since the King’s arrival, every day had been a precarious tightrope walk. She hadn't offended the Princess, and she had acted carefully to avoid catching the King’s eye. She didn't know why he was angry, but she had truly done her best.
"I don't know why you’re angry."
The heated air cooled as if doused with cold water at her calm response. Roxana, eyes lowered, hesitated before continuing.
"I... as you know, until two years ago, I had never left Pewi—or rather, the estate itself. I had never been close to anyone other than my mother, Mary, and the nuns. Since coming here, the only people I’ve become friends with are Alice and Kesi. They are all women."
Robert was an exception as her superior, and Frey was an exception as the young lady she served and someone like a younger sister.
"So, in truth, I am clumsy with men’s emotions. So, tell me. Why are you angry, and what should I do?"
At the unexpected, direct question, Curtis fell silent. After a long pause, he muttered quietly.
"You always make people look ugly in that way. While you remain so noble."
Roxana’s eyes wavered at his low words. Curtis felt a base satisfaction at the sight of her clearly wounded face.
It had been that way since they reunited. Even while wearing clothes stained with ash and dust, covered in dirt, and kneeling, Roxana had shone brighter than anyone else. Even Greg, who held a grudge against the House of Dalton as deep as his own, had been taken aback.
That was why he wanted her to become ugly. But no matter what he did, Roxana never became ugly, nor was she ever tainted.
At the convent, she had helped the nuns run the infirmary and aided the people; upon entering the castle, she had healed Frey’s heart, won the favor of the castle staff, and performed good deeds in whatever way she could. Naturally, people were increasingly drawn to her.
"The shepherd who had a stomachache recently said he recovered thanks to the medicine Roxana gave him when he stopped by the castle. He sent word that he wants to sign a contract for next year as well."
"The horse that was so violent turned out to have a thorn stuck under its saddle. Everyone was worried we’d have to kill it because no one could touch it, but it’s a relief. It was thanks to Roxana personally grinding herbs with sedative properties and mixing them into its feed."
"The tenant’s pregnant wife, who was in danger of dying because the birth canal wouldn't open, found stability and gave birth safely thanks to Roxana’s herbal incense."
The identity of the anxiety he felt every time he heard such news was possessiveness. The light he had once wanted to see grow murky and ruined, Curtis now wished to lock away in his hands. Then, it would no longer be able to shine on anyone else. No one else would be drawn to that light.
He would be the only one who could possess it. He believed that if he owned her, even in a twisted form, this inexplicable obsession would eventually cease.
Curtis finally acknowledged the low-level satisfaction that had crept into his wounded eyes. He was that kind of human. Twisted, wayward, and cruel.
"I don't want a noble and virtuous wife. I don't need you to fawn over me, but I want a mistress who whispers sweet words."
"..."
"So, even if it’s a lie, tell me you love me. Whenever I want you to."
Roxana’s complexion paled at his words. Unlike his high-handed tone, Curtis knelt and looked up at her. Then, he unfolded the fingers she had been using to grip her skirt one by one. The interlaced fingers felt like a noose, and Roxana lowered her eyes quietly. The gray eyes watching her were like a cat curious to see how a mouse would react when cornered.
"...Does that have any meaning?"
"You’re asking strange questions, just like last time."
Curtis, who had interlaced his fingers with Roxana’s stiff ones, rubbed his cheek against the back of her hand.
"I told you. I will try to make you love me, so you must try, too. Keep confessing until I am deceived. Then, I will let you go. Just as I promised."
Curtis laughed as he watched her gaze grow dim in place of an answer.
He felt at ease now that he had admitted it. Roxana would never love him. Even if it were revenge, he had trampled her family and taken away the sanctuary she had barely found. And then, he had forced her into the position of a mistress she didn't even want.
He didn't even wish for love. This, too, was a feeling that would eventually disappear anyway.
***
Just as Curtis had boasted, the King, who had been heavily intoxicated at the final night’s banquet, woke up the next day without a hangover. As soon as he opened his eyes at dawn, the preparations for departure began again. It was a long journey, as he had to tour other territories before returning to the royal capital.
"Thanks to your generous hospitality, I’ve had a pleasant stay."
"It is an honor to have served Your Highness."
"Then I suppose we shall see each other again when the year turns."
"Since it is almost next year, I will see you at the Carnival in February."
Curtis, who had bowed politely, signaled for the drawbridge to be lowered. The King announced abruptly.
"That’s right. I plan to hold a jousting tournament during the Carnival."
"A jousting tournament."
Curtis muttered at the sudden topic. A tournament where two knights on galloping horses determined their superiority with a single clash. It was a popular event, but it was a festival that hadn't been held for two years after two knights were thrown from their horses and died.
"Margrave, you will participate, won't you? The tournament will only heat up if a brave knight like yourself shows off your skills."
"You are too kind. Of course, I will participate. I am, after all, the King’s knight."
Curtis, who had smiled thinly, opened the carriage door in place of the attendant. The Princess, who had made eye contact with him, was startled and jerked her head to the other side. Curtis, unbothered, closed the carriage door after the King climbed in and signaled their departure.
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