“……Curtis.”
He smelled of cold wind as he took off his coat. Roxana set down her spoon and studied him.
“Where have you been? At this hour?”
“I had something to verify.”
Curtis replied blandly, raising his hand to summon a waiter. He then ordered a glass of beer. Unlike the food, the drink arrived quickly.
“Frey is asleep. I’m worried; she seems deeply traumatized.”
“Time is the only remedy for that.”
Curtis, who had scanned the room to check on the guards he’d planted inside and outside the inn just in case, informed her in a low voice.
“We depart in two hours.”
“Please, go inside. I will attend to you. I’ll have the food brought to your room.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Hans approached silently and bowed to Roxana. Roxana glanced at him and said anxiously, “Frey is trembling from the shock. Can’t we take a moment to catch our breath before leaving?”
“Hans.”
Instead of answering, Curtis urged his deputy forward and rubbed his weary temples. Her desperate gaze fell upon his expressionless profile. Conscious of Hans, Roxana cautiously pressed him.
“This is not the time to force a march. We can still turn back, even now.”
“That is not an option.”
Curtis smiled coldly and added, “Listen well, Roxana. From tomorrow on, you are to act as if nothing happened. Smile as if you are excited and happy about going to the Royal Castle. Make sure no one suspects a thing.”
“Is there… someone behind this? Is that person coming to the Carnival?”
Normally, one would try to avoid such an opponent, but given Curtis’s personality, he was more than capable of meeting them head-on. A certain unease began to reveal its true form.
However, the reply that returned was indifferent.
“It was just bandits.”
Something felt off. While Roxana watched him with suspicious eyes, Curtis signaled to Hans.
“My Lord.”
Roxana stood up before he could be helped to his feet, reaching out her hand.
“Take me to my room. Personally.”
Silence flowed between the two, as if they were in a world apart. Curtis stood up without a word and took her hand.
* * *
*Creeak.*
The door closed behind Curtis with a sound.
After calmly locking the door, Curtis’s demeanor shifted; he pulled Roxana’s waist against his back and kissed the nape of her neck. At the hot breath against her skin, Roxana stiffened like a trapped herbivore. She had expected it, but his craving touch sent a thrill from the tips of her toes.
“W-wait, just a moment.”
Roxana caught his hand as it moved past her lower abdomen and pulled away from his embrace. His intense, ash-colored eyes watched her obsessively. Before he could open his mouth, Roxana strode to the bed and sat down heavily.
Curtis twisted his lips, and just as he was about to force her down, she subtly dodged his hand.
“What are you doing?”
Curtis frowned and tried to grab her arm, but Roxana avoided his touch again, as if teasing him.
“Get some sleep. You said we only have two hours.”
“So that was your plan from the start.”
No sooner had Curtis replied sharply than a pointed question returned.
“Do you not trust your own men?”
“…….”
“Curtis.”
Taking advantage of his momentary hesitation at her unexpected words, Roxana brought up the question that had been bothering her.
“You asked me once why I let Greg escape.”
“…….”
“Let me ask you in return. Why did you save me? Even at the cost of shooting an arrow into the arm of a subordinate who is like a brother to you.”
No matter how she thought about it, it didn’t make sense. Greg was a loyal knight and a close friend who had served him for a long time. She, on the other hand, was the daughter of his enemy. If one were to weigh the two, the scale would undoubtedly tip toward the former. Yet, Curtis had chosen her.
“Who knows. I’d rather be doing something else right now.”
Curtis twisted his lips and pressed down on her shoulders. Roxana glared at him and tried to slip away, but it was useless.
“Trying to run away now?”
“…….”
“Not a chance.”
Growling in a voice that seemed to scrape the back of his throat, he crossed his arms and stripped off his shirt. His tanned, well-defined abdominal muscles, trailing down past his deeply carved hip bones, came into Roxana’s view.
She needed to escape, but her body felt drained of strength. The hand holding her was firm, binding her obsessively. The more their skin touched, the more breathless and lightheaded she became. Just as she found herself unconsciously tracing his back, Roxana’s eyes, which had been drifting shut, snapped open.
*No. I didn’t bring him to the bedroom for this.*
Curtis, narrowing his eyes at her struggle to break free, grabbed her arm and bit down gently on the soft skin of her inner arm. Like a male marking his territory.
Roxana shuddered at the chilling, searing sensation. It felt like locking eyes with something starving in a dark cave. When they reunited after leaving the castle that had turned to ash—that was the exact look in his eyes then.
“Wait!”
Roxana turned her head to narrowly avoid his approaching lips and managed to stammer, “I want to drink the tea over there. I can’t calm down after what happened earlier….”
“…….”
“It will only take a moment. I’m just so tense.”
At her trembling voice, Curtis straightened up. Freed from beneath him, Roxana quickly got off the bed. With her back to him, she secretly slipped herbal powder into the kettle on the table. It was the same herb she had given to Frey.
“Drink.”
Roxana poured two cups and held one out to Curtis.
Suddenly, she remembered the time she had offered him ointment.
“I don’t need it. How do I know you haven’t poisoned it?”
Those words had cut deep into her heart in that fleeting moment.
Perhaps he wouldn’t drink it this time, either. As she waited for his reaction with a tense heart, Curtis took the cup from her hand as if it were nothing and gulped down the tea.
“It’s gone cold.”
Curtis wiped his lips with the back of his hand and reached out to Roxana, who was staring at him blankly. Roxana’s body was easily laid back onto the bed.
“Why that look, Roxana?”
Curtis kissed her collarbone and slowly lowered his lips along the ridge. Roxana grabbed his face with trembling hands and pulled him toward her.
“Did you trust me? How did you know I hadn’t poisoned it?”
“Did you?”
Instead of answering, Roxana shook her head. Curtis whispered with eyes that seemed ready to devour her.
“Tell me you love me.”
“…….”
“Just like you did before. Exactly the same.”
As Roxana, lost in thought, slowly parted her lips, a large hand covered her mouth.
“No. Don’t.”
That was the moment his voice trailed off. Curtis’s flickering eyes closed heavily. He collapsed, falling limp beside her.
“I’m sorry, Curtis.”
Roxana muttered, lifting his clothes to see his back. A wound with dried, dark red blood came into view.
“……No wonder he felt like he had a fever.”
He was just as indifferent to his own wounds as he had always been. It wasn’t deep, but it needed treatment. Taking a deep breath, Roxana threw open the door. Hans, who had been standing guard just in case, widened his eyes in surprise at the sight of her.
“My Lady?”
“I need a styptic. And bandages.”
“Pardon?”
“Right now. And if there are any other injured soldiers, bring them here.”
At her firm command, Hans snapped to his senses, nodded, and hurried away. Watching his retreating figure, Roxana steeled her resolve. The drug would last at most four or five hours. The time she had was not long.
* * * Roxana straightened her aching back after applying ointment to the last soldier’s wounds.
"That’s the end of it, isn't it?"
"Yes. Thank you for your hard work."
Hans bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude. He had retracted every prejudice he once held against the woman before him. He had assumed she was just an ambitious woman who had caught the Lord’s eye while serving as a nun, only to enter the manor as a maid and quickly secure the position of mistress.
"The Lord showed interest in me at the villa, so that woman did this to me. She threw me into this smelly, grueling stable."
While he hadn't believed everything a certain maid spread, the truth was that he had found some of it plausible. Though everyone kept quiet for fear of offending the Lord, there were maids who secretly believed Lizzie’s words once Roxana truly became the mistress.
"You are very different from the rumors."
Hans muttered this to himself, then realized his slip of the tongue and hurriedly covered his mouth. At that sight, Roxana actually laughed.
"Ah, those rumors."
"You... were aware?"
"Yes. They reached my ears whether I wanted to hear them or not."
They were things Alice and Kesi had relayed to her with caution. They had insisted the rumors were preposterous and offered to go give Lizzie a piece of their mind, but Roxana had asked them not to.
"Why did you just stay silent?"
"People generally only believe what they want to believe and hear what they want to hear."
Roxana answered nonchalantly as she tidied up the herbs and ointment.
"Whether it’s true or not doesn't matter. They will distort it however they like to hear what they want. So, there is no need to go out of my way to explain."
It was a calm statement, yet it pierced to the heart of the matter.
"Still, don't you feel wronged?"
"As long as the people I like, and who like me, believe in me, I am fine."
Roxana turned to Hans after his repeated questions and added plainly.
"Besides, it’s impossible for everyone to like me."
Just as Hans nodded, as if he had realized something, he whipped his head around at an intense gaze he felt from somewhere. At the same time, the atmosphere in the room froze over.
"…M-My Lord. You are awake."
Curtis had opened his eyes and sat up. He felt refreshed, as if he had slept soundly, and his mind felt clear.
"How much time has passed?"
He remembered being in bed with Roxana at the end. Curtis, running a hand through his disheveled hair, asked again.
"Hans. How many hours have passed?"
"That is..."
They had planned to leave in two hours, but five hours had already gone by. If he pulled back the curtains that darkened the room, he would see the sun already high in the sky. It wouldn't take long for the Lord to realize what had happened.
While Hans, his mouth parched, couldn't bring himself to answer, Roxana—who had been biting her lip for fear that Curtis might lash out at him—intervened.
"Five hours."
"..."
A gaze as cold as a blade plunged toward Roxana. Just as Hans, unable to watch the tension that felt like walking on thin ice, moved to defend her, Curtis spoke.
"Get out."
"My Lord..."
"Do I have to say it twice?"
No one could stop him when he was like this. Hans squeezed his eyes shut and left the room, leaving a heavy, swamp-like silence to settle in the air. The agitated atmosphere made every nerve in Roxana’s body stand on edge. She couldn't bear to meet his eyes and bowed her head.
The next moment, her heart sank at the words that were cut short like a blunt blade.
"You fooled me quite well."
His voice came from directly above her.
"Tell me, Roxana."
Curtis used his index finger to force her lowered head up, whispering as if grinding the words out.
"Why did you do it?"
Roxana clenched and unclenched her trembling fists under his piercing glare. Whatever her intentions, she had betrayed his trust. The fact that she had drugged him remained unchanged. No matter what she said, he wouldn't listen to her now. But she had to speak. Just as she gathered the courage to part her lips, he continued.
"Curtis..."
Curtis curled his lips, leaning down to bring his face close to hers. While a stunned, frozen Roxana could only blink, he whispered.
"Shut up."
"..."
"I’ve changed my mind. Asking for reasons... I must be a fool. I won't be fooled again."
The connection was severed. The bond she had thought they shared, if only for a moment, was cut and torn to shreds. As Roxana stared blankly at the wreckage, Curtis withdrew his hand as if brushing away something filthy and brushed past her. Then, without hesitation, he slammed the door open.
"Hans."
"...Yes."
The cold command fell upon Hans, who had been standing by, restless in case of an emergency.
"We leave immediately. Prepare."
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