“I must decline.”
“……Margrave.”
“I believe it is forbidden to address one another by our titles during the Carnival.”
Curtis, having sneered, closed the distance to Roxana in an instant and swept her up into his arms.
“Ah!”
“Stay still.”
Curtis, who had buried Roxana’s startled face against his chest, tilted his head.
“I shall take that as a thank you for now.”
“…….”
“Then, I will be taking my leave.”
Without waiting for a response, Curtis turned on his heel and strode out of the room without hesitation. Roxana remained as silent as a mouse, keeping her lips tightly pressed together as they traversed the labyrinthine corridors until they returned to the bedroom.
The chest pressed against her cheek rose and fell sharply. By the time she could no longer tell if the frantic thumping of the heart was hers or his, the bedroom door swung open, and she was tossed lightly onto the plush bed. At the same time, both of their masks clattered to the floor.
Roxana quickly tried to turn and scramble away from her prone position, but it was futile.
“It seems my warning went in one ear and out the other.”
Curtis, who had pinned her beneath him faster than she could move, growled.
“I told you not to wander about at night.”
“I felt stifled, so I wanted to get some fresh air.”
“And that is where you chose to go?”
Curtis bared his teeth as he interrogated her through gritted teeth. For a moment, she truly understood what it meant for one’s vision to turn blood-red. Had it not been for the look of shock and pallor on Roxana’s face, she might have instinctively grabbed the Marquess by the collar.
“I, I truly didn’t know. I only realized where I was once I arrived……. Haa.”
Roxana shook her head desperately, her breathing growing ragged. An inexplicable heat began to spread from deep within her belly, gradually staining her entire body.
“Roxana?”
Sensing that something was amiss, Curtis furrowed his brow. Her hazy violet eyes looked up at him, as if enticing him.
“It’s hot…….”
“Damn it.”
It seemed she had been poisoned by the aphrodisiac incense while crossing the hallway. Usually, a brief exposure would not be an issue, but due to her constitution, even a trace amount had an effect on her.
“It’s hot, Curtis…….”
Curtis, who had stopped Roxana’s hands as she tried to tear at her own collar, looked around for something to bind her with.
“……That will have to do.”
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the lace from the mantelpiece and tied her wrists tightly. Even as her wrists were bound and restrained, Roxana writhed, unable to quell the heat surging from deep within her throat.
“It’s hot, it’s hot…… Curtis!”
“It is cold outside. Endure it.”
With her eyes moist from the fever and her lips craving him, Curtis exerted extreme patience to restrain himself against her heated body.
“I’m telling you, it’s hot……. Sob.”
Having half-lost her reason, Roxana finally burst into tears at the heat she could not release. She felt as though she were dying from the heat, yet Curtis was looking down at her with a face full of fury. Roxana, her eyes brimming with tears, glared at his silver-gray eyes. At that moment, Curtis thrust his arm in front of her lips.
“Bite.”
“What?”
“If you truly cannot stand it, bite my arm and endure it…… Ugh.”
Her hesitation was brief. She needed something to vent her frustration on. Like a beast lunging at its prey, Roxana bit down on Curtis’s arm with all her might. Curtis endured the pain in silence as she bit down hard enough to leave vivid tooth marks. He, too, needed this level of pain to remain sane while beside her in her highly aroused state.
“Roxana.”
Curtis, having brushed back her sweat-drenched red hair, pressed his lips to her forehead and temples.
“Roxana.”
“…….”
“Roxana.”
Shilo was right. He was satisfied with the present, where Roxana clung to him as if he were the only one in the world she could hold onto. He wanted to make it so she had nowhere else to lean and no one else to trust, so that she would rely solely on him.
There might be no salvation there, but it did not matter. Even if they fell into the abyss, if they were together, that would be salvation.
Curtis smiled as if to show off to the shadows watching them from afar. He was that kind of man from the start.
“Do not love me, Roxana.”
“…….”
“Because I have no intention of ever letting you go.”
No. In the first place, Roxana would never love him. Who would ever like a man who trampled and manipulated every part of them?
He caught the gaze of the man with the crazed eyes in the mirror hanging on the wall. The man was smiling. It was a smile where misery and joy were intertwined.
* * *
The official opening of the Carnival began with the King’s speech. As soon as the King, standing on the high platform, finished his address, cheers erupted along with fireworks. People wearing masks, regardless of age, gender, or status, waved their hands and clapped excitedly.
Amidst the noise created by the instruments and the crowd, Roxana glanced sideways at Curtis from the high seat reserved for the great nobles.
She remembered him sweeping her up and carrying her to the bedroom in that room last night, but everything after that was a complete blank. She could not remember a single thing that had happened.
One thing was certain: he had not slept well. His eyes were dark, and he looked exhausted. He, who had never once collapsed even during the long, grueling march to the Royal Castle, looked strangely fatigued today.
“Curtis.”
“Stay quiet today.”
No sooner had she spoken than a frost-cold command fell.
“What kind of performance is it?”
“Clowns and gypsy acts.”
It was an annual event that always took place. It was boring, but he had to keep his seat for the opening ceremony. Curtis furrowed his brow as he spotted a fox mask next to the King, who wore a lion mask. The Princess, who waved her hand as if to show off, whispered something to the King and then sent a maid to him.
“My Lord.”
There was an unwritten rule not to acknowledge each other’s status at the Carnival. However, royalty was always the exception.
“The Princess has prepared a seat for you beside her.”
“I have a companion, so please convey my apologies and tell her I decline.”
The companion was none other than Roxana. Frey had stayed in the room after being assigned guards and a maid, as she did not wish to go out. The maid, flustered by the blunt refusal, tried to persuade him gently.
“This is difficult. Please, do come with me.”
“Then drag me there yourself.”
Curtis, having replied coldly, lowered his gaze below the platform. He recalled what the Princess, who had called him out last night with a threat that was not quite a threat, had said.
“Propose to me.”
“I believe I refused you last time.”
“I am giving you another chance. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“A mistake, you say.”
“You conspired with Princess Consort Margaret and plotted treason alone. What do you think will happen if His Majesty finds out about that?”
“A plot for treason? Viscount Otis was there as well. Then that means Viscount Otis also conspired in the treason.”
“That is!”
“Listen well, Princess. The only reason I reacted to that ridiculous, clumsy threat is to warn you never to approach me again.”
Judging by the way she had been unable to retort, her face turning red and purple, it seemed she did not know about the deal made with the Princess Consort. However, one thing she said before he left stuck like a thorn under his fingernail.
“I gave you one last chance. You will surely regret this moment, Margrave.”
He was not afraid, but it left a bad taste in his mouth. He was watching the clowns’ stunts with soulless eyes when Roxana suddenly pushed his back.
“Please go. It is the Princess’s command.”
Roxana, who had used formal language while conscious of the maid, pushed his back once more.
“Just go and offer your greetings.”
“……You.”
He could feel the hostile gaze watching her even from a distance. Roxana urged him again, despite the stinging glare.
“We are not the only ones here. Frey is here, too.”
The Princess was the King’s only remaining unmarried daughter. If he were to get on her bad side, something unfortunate might happen in the future.
“Wait here for a moment. I will be back shortly.”
Curtis, who had muttered a low curse at Roxana’s added words, rose from his seat. Roxana, who had been staring blankly at his retreating back, lowered her head again toward the noisy crowd below. Before she knew it, the clowns’ stunts had ended, and it was the gypsies’ turn. A play accompanied by dance and song followed.
“Your lips are sweeter than this fruit, and your eyes are sweeter than wine. When you look at me, my heart no longer feels like my own, and every nerve is directed only toward you.”
The plot of the play was simple. It was a tragedy about a man and woman born into enemy families who fall in love without knowing each other’s identities, eventually leading to their deaths.
“We cannot be together anyway. Let us choose death together instead.”
“That is a good idea. I, too, do not wish to live in a world without you.”
As the play progressed, several noblewomen could be seen sniffling and wiping tears from inside their masks with handkerchiefs. It was just as the play was reaching its climax. At the moment the gypsies playing the two protagonists plunged daggers into each other’s chests, someone suddenly approached and spoke to the empty seat beside Curtis.
“It’s quite cliché, isn’t it?”
“……You are.”
“It is Shilo. Please don’t say you’ve forgotten me already.”
The blonde man, who had been smiling broadly, flopped into the seat. He, too, was wearing a mask. Roxana smiled faintly.
“So you were here. You disappeared so quickly that I thought you had set off on a long journey again.”
“I am just staying for a while. I have never been one to stay anywhere for long. Well. That aside.”
Shilo, who had let out a long yawn, leaned in and whispered.
“What do you think of that play, my lady?”
“That play?”
“Yes. The story of a man and woman who meet as enemies and choose death because they cannot fulfill their love.”
His narrowed gaze beneath the mask observed Roxana. Roxana, who had no way of knowing the truth, bowed her head for a moment to quietly collect her thoughts.
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