"The Princess and... my relationship."
The words, chopped into chunks, leaked through his teeth as if he were chewing on them. Curtis felt as though he had been ambushed while riding his horse. An invisible, sharp arrow pierced his heart and twisted.
"I have eyes and ears, too. So, I mean for you to be at ease."
The words that followed were cruel in their gentleness. He forced the corners of his mouth upward.
"My mistress is truly thoughtful. I did well to keep you by my side."
"..."
"A nun, a maid, a nanny, and now a mistress. You even volunteer to play the matchmaker; there is nothing you cannot do."
The horse, which had been galloping fast, came to a sudden halt at the rough pull of the reins. The momentum caused Roxana’s body to tilt backward, her head hitting his broad chest.
As a startled Roxana tried to steady herself, the hand that had held the reins wrapped around her waist with such force that she couldn't even breathe. Curtis, clutching her waist tightly, buried his face in her shoulder.
"...Did I make you angry?"
Unable to move due to the hot breath against her shoulder, Roxana parted her lips. Curtis tilted his head and whispered.
"You always make me that way."
At his low retort, Roxana bit her lower lip. His words were true. Curtis was always angry with her. Ever since they had reunited.
She understood that he had no choice but to be. She had also grown accustomed to his anger, but hearing it confirmed in words made her heart ache.
"Why do you keep the person who makes you angry by your side?"
"I told you. You make me lose my mind. And I find that amusing."
"..."
"I am still curious about that limit."
"And at the end of that limit?"
It was a question she hadn't been able to ask before. Swallowing hard, Roxana asked slowly.
"What is there?"
"Who knows."
Curtis, who had been silent as if in thought, countered.
"In the end, wouldn't I kill you and then die myself?"
Contrary to the shocking content, his tone was as if he were asking what he should eat for breakfast the next morning. Faced with his chillingly calm reply, Roxana chose silence over speaking.
Soon after, Curtis lifted his head, took up the reins again, and kicked the horse's flanks.
* * *
"Roxana?"
Frey, waking from a deep sleep, called her name softly. However, no answer returned. Frey fumbled as she rose from the bed. She had already dismissed the resident maid, so she was alone in the room. Thirsty, she swept her hand over the nightstand, but it was empty. She had no choice but to call for any maid or servant in the hallway to bring her water. Having made her decision, Frey gripped the wall and walked to the door.
"Is anyone there?"
She managed to open the latch and poke her head into the hallway, but no answer returned. It seemed the soldier who usually guarded her was also on a break for a shift change. Just as Frey, hesitating, was about to close the door again, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her out.
"Oh, a lady I haven't seen before."
"L-let go of me!"
Even though she could not see, the smell of alcohol that hit her nose made Frey’s body stiffen. She struggled to pull her wrist away, but the difference in strength was too great.
"I will scream! Let go right now!"
"Scream?"
To make matters worse, it seemed there was more than one; she heard the sound of another man sneering from the side. He, too, sounded slurred, as if he were heavily intoxicated.
"You're being too coy. Go ahead and scream all you want. Everyone is at the opening ceremony, so no one is here."
"Even if they were, they'd just think it was the sound of a woman moaning, wouldn't they?"
"That's true."
The sinister conversation passed between the two men, and Frey, her face turning deathly pale, screamed urgently.
"Someone help me! Mmph!"
"Shh. Why would you scream right away like that?"
Frey’s desperate cry was muffled by a firm hand. At the man’s breath, which reeked, Frey squeezed her eyes shut. It felt as if filth were being poured over her body.
"She's quite the spitfire, more than she looks. Stay still!"
As she struggled, the hand covering her mouth pressed harder. One of the men pushed her backward. Frey, stumbling back, lost strength in her legs and collapsed.
"Stay still."
The men chuckled and took a step forward. Frey, her face ashen, retreated while still sitting on the floor.
"Don't come closer! Get out!"
Tears pricked her eyes, and chills ran through her entire body from fear. *Brother. Roxana. Mother, Father.* She cried out the faces that flashed through her mind one by one, but only the sound of the door rattling shut returned.
"I'll make you feel good..."
It was the moment the men, laughing sinisterly, reached out to grab Frey’s ankles.
"Ugh!"
"What is this, ahhh!"
The two men let out painful screams and were thrown away from Frey.
"O-older brother?"
Frey, wiping away the tears that were streaming down, lifted her bowed head. However, the voice that came from above was not one she recognized.
"You vermin."
"Y-Your Highness."
The men, as if doused with cold water, hurriedly bowed their heads.
"This is... well, you see."
"You, who should be guarding the castle gates, are roaming the castle while people are away at the opening ceremony, trying to assault a woman?"
"P-please spare us! We were drunk and just...! We only came into the Royal Castle to take one bottle..."
"Drinking on duty. You are out of your minds."
Enoch, who kicked the men as they reached out to grab his pant legs, signaled to the knight standing behind him.
"Throw them into the dungeon and refer them to the military council."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Please spare us! It was a mistake!"
"It's a mistake! Your Highness!"
If they stood before a military tribunal, they could be sentenced to anything from stripping of rank to execution. The men begged, but they were soon grabbed by their arms by other soldiers. Only after the two thugs were dragged away like cattle to a slaughterhouse did silence return to the room.
Enoch, having settled the situation, reached out a hand to help Frey up.
"I happened to be passing by and heard the noise, so I took the liberty of opening the door."
"..."
"Are you alright?"
She did not answer, perhaps because she was very shaken. Enoch, who had knelt to check on her, belatedly realized who she was. The Margrave’s younger sister. The one who was said to be blind.
He was about to withdraw his hand, but a trembling hand gripped his tightly. A surprised Enoch opened his mouth without realizing it.
"How..."
"I can see things blurrily, like they are in a fog. Since a while ago."
It had been since she was attacked on the way to the Royal Castle. Perhaps the shock she received then had been a blessing in disguise; when she woke up after fainting, the world, which had been pitch black, began to be visible again, albeit blurrily.
However, since her vision hadn't fully returned and it might be temporary, Frey didn't bother telling anyone. She didn't want to see the faces of her brother and Roxana, who would be happy only to be saddened again.
As it turned out, the man before her was the only one she had confessed this to.
"They said it was psychological, so this is truly a relief."
She was a girl who looked like she had just turned sixteen or seventeen. Enoch’s face, which had felt inwardly sorry for her, brightened considerably. He lightly helped Frey to her feet and turned around.
"I will call for a maid."
"No. I'm fine. More than that..."
Frey, who had grabbed the hem of Enoch’s clothes as he was about to walk away, bowed her head low. Her heart was pounding, and her face was so red that she couldn't possibly look him in the eye.
"What is... your name?"
"Enoch. Enoch Ferentz."
It was a name that even she, who had been confined to the castle, had heard of. Frey asked cautiously.
"They called you Your Highness. Then... are you that Duke?"
"Yes."
No sooner had Enoch answered than the door opened again, and his aide approached. Perhaps conscious of Frey, the aide whispered something, and Enoch’s face hardened.
"Since you are alright, I will take my leave."
"W-wait!"
Frey, who called out to Enoch as he turned and walked away quickly, greeted him urgently with a face as red as a beet.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
With a brief bow, he opened the door and left. Frey kept her hand pressed against her pounding left chest for a long time.
* * *
Roxana, who had returned, was puzzled by Frey’s change. Whatever had happened during the day, she had a look on her face as if she were floating in mid-air the whole time. Even when asked what had happened, she did not answer, instead tracing the air with eyes that seemed to be longing for someone.
Worried about Frey, Roxana tried to stick by her side the next day, but it was Frey who pushed her back.
"Tonight is the night of the fun banquet. Go with your brother."
"But."
"I'm really fine. I have guards stationed in front of the room, and I haven't dismissed the maid. I'm neither bored nor lonely."
"Are you really sure you'll be alright?"
"Of course. So go and have a good time. Your brother is waiting for you."
Frey smiled and nodded. In any case, there would be many people at the banquet, and everyone would be wearing masks, so she wouldn't be confident in recognizing the Duke. Rather than that, it was better to stay quietly in her room and reflect on what had happened. The more she thought about it, the more excited and happy she felt. It was a feeling of happiness just to possess something, not necessarily to wish for anything. Like a puppy that hides a treasure in the ground to look at it over and over again, Frey, too, wanted to look into her own feelings alone. If she thought about it well, perhaps a good idea to meet him again would come to her.
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