Chapter 28
Having achieved her goal, Roshanne pushed away Cheyton, who had been supporting her, and stood up perfectly fine.
“Rather than standing here like this, it might be better to go inside the mansion and talk.”
Her voice was laced with fear, as if dreading that the sweet sanctuary she had finally found might shatter at any moment.
“No. It’s alright. And the reason I called for the grand duke today is…”
Roshanne examined Cheyton’s face closely. Just moments ago, he had clearly looked strained, but now he appeared far more relaxed.
‘The madness seems to be subsiding well.’
After nodding to herself, Roshanne extended her hand toward Cheyton, as if requesting an escort.
“I called you today not to stay at the mansion, but to go on a date with the grand duke outside.”
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Cheyton accepted Roshanne’s date invitation, and the two boarded a carriage together, heading toward the lakeside.
It was a date spot that Roshanne had scouted in advance.
‘There are so many couples.’
She had heard it was a place recently gaining popularity among noble lovers, where they could ride a ferry and share secretive conversations.
‘It’s perfect for reducing the madness, spreading rumors that the Railaten family is dating the Grand Duchy of Barpheus, and suitable for private talks as well.’
Today, Roshanne intended to ask Cheyton about what had happened to the subjugation party ten years ago, and why he had ended up afflicted with madness after sealing the mad dragon.
Once aboard the ferry, there would be no escape, making it utterly ideal.
“Let’s go too, Grand Duke.”
Roshanne led Cheyton forward.
“Huh?”
Cheyton responded blankly, gazing at the lakeside brimming with the pink-tinged atmosphere of lovers.
At first, Cheyton had been surprised by Roshanne’s suggestion to go on a date, but he quickly regained his composure.
She had said they should pretend to be lovers on the surface. That way, they’d have a pretext for meeting often.
Roshanne had definitely said that before.
So, he assumed the date proposal was just part of deceiving those around them.
Having once fallen into a major misunderstanding because of a kiss with Roshanne, Cheyton figured they would simply wander around nearby and return to the mansion.
He never imagined they’d come to a place like this…
Cheyton, visiting a date spot frequented by noble couples for the first time in his life, stiffened rigidly.
“Grand Duke?”
Roshanne waved her hand vigorously right in front of Cheyton’s eyes, which were frozen in tension.
“Huh?”
Cheyton, who had been observing the happily laughing couples scattered around, turned his reddened eyes toward Roshanne.
“Do you perhaps have a fear of water? Are you scared of it?”
Roshanne asked with genuine concern.
Cheyton couldn’t hide his bewilderment at Roshanne’s sincere worry.
Until now, no one had ever asked Cheyton if he had a phobia or if he was afraid of something.
On the contrary, people had always feared Cheyton, drenched in blood as he often was.
“Ha.”
Cheyton let out a scoff without realizing it. Even grown men would avoid him out of fear upon seeing him, yet this woman—who had staggered, complaining her legs hurt after just a short walk—didn’t fear him at all.
“It’s alright. It’s my fault for choosing the wrong place. If you’re scared, let’s skip the ferry ride.”
Roshanne reached out and patted Cheyton’s shoulder. Her touch was gentle, as if soothing a frightened child.
Being treated like a child made Cheyton feel inexplicably displeased.
Frowning, Cheyton abruptly grabbed Roshanne’s hand that was patting him.
It was a small, soft hand that fit easily within his own.
So small, and yet…
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
Cheyton spoke curtly and pulled Roshanne’s hand, leading her along.
After paying the ferry fee to the boatman, Cheyton stepped boldly onto the vessel. The clear lake rippled, causing the boat to sway.
“My lady.”
Having steadied himself to keep the boat from shaking, Cheyton extended his hand toward Roshanne.
Roshanne scanned the surroundings. Everyone was pretending not to notice, but they were watching her and Cheyton.
‘It would be good to hold hands here.’
Roshanne took Cheyton’s offered hand and carefully stepped onto the ferry.
“Do we not need to hire a rower?”
Roshanne asked as she took her seat.
“I can row myself, so it’s fine.”
Cheyton settled into place and began rowing with familiar ease. The lake’s surface rippled, and the ferry quickly glided forward, soon putting distance between them and the shore.
“Oh.”
She had chosen this spot thinking it would allow for uninterrupted conversation on the ferry, but it turned out to be more enjoyable than expected, prompting Roshanne to widen her eyes in surprise.
It was Roshanne’s first time on a boat. To be precise, it was her first time seeing a clear lake unstained by blood.
What Roshanne had always seen were lakes stained red with the blood of the dead, or ones so polluted that she couldn’t even dip her feet in.
“Is it fun?”
Cheyton asked, observing Roshanne’s expression. Roshanne nodded and closed her eyes.
“The wind… feels good.”
Each time the lake rippled, the ferry swayed gently.
The warm breeze brushing past her face was so soothing that, with her eyes closed, it felt like she was flying through the sky.
So this kind of world exists too.
While Roshanne kept her eyes shut, savoring the wind, the ferry carrying the two of them had already passed the center of the lake and drifted farther away.
Once they were a good distance from the people, Cheyton rowed leisurely.
“How do you know how to do something like this?”
Normally, nobles didn’t know how to row, so they would hire a boatman or bring a servant to do it instead.
But if someone else intruded, they couldn’t speak openly about the subjugation party or the madness, so Roshanne had even considered rowing herself.
“I learned it as a child and practiced alone.”
Cheyton set down the oars, picked up the lace parasol placed on the ferry, and stood up while unfolding it.
The calm lake stirred, causing the boat to rock. Cheyton tilted the lace parasol to shield Roshanne’s face from the harsh sunlight beating down.
As if he didn’t care about being exposed to the strong sun himself.
“Why did you practice rowing as a child?”
“I thought that if I were ever abandoned on a deserted island, I’d need to escape by boat on my own. Not just that—I diligently read books, observed, and practiced anything related to survival. I didn’t want to die.”
He didn’t specify who would do such a thing, but it was immediately clear whom he meant.
“…The emperor.”
Roshanne uttered the name without hesitation. Cheyton was actually startled by how casually Roshanne mentioned the emperor.
“My lady.”
Cheyton lowered his voice.
“To be honest, I don’t understand what you want from me. Calming my madness, and the Railaten family—called the center of the imperial faction—associating with me publicly… It’s all beneficial to me, isn’t it?”
“On the surface, it might seem that way.”
“On the surface?”
“I hate how the emperor treats the Railaten family like dogs.”
An indescribable emotion settled over Roshanne’s face, which had been calm until now.
“It disgusts me that he thinks the Railaten family could never disobey his commands.”
For the first time, a clear emotion flashed in her eyes, which had seemed inscrutable.
A burning rage that refused to be extinguished.
Cheyton faced Roshanne’s anger for the first time.
“The imperial faction? Let’s get the words right. It’s not that the Railaten family became the center of the imperial faction…”
Roshanne reached out. And she grasped the lace parasol that Cheyton was holding.
“The emperor placed the Railaten family at the heart of the imperial faction. To use them as puppets. And I really don’t like that.”
Roshanne snatched the lace parasol from Cheyton’s hand and held it herself.
Cheyton stared blankly at his own hand. It was trembling. It hadn’t trembled even in any war, or when he set out to quell civil unrest.
Instinctively, his body was shaking in response to the small woman’s anger before him.
“I know well that the emperor sees you as a thorn in his side.”
Cheyton flinched.
“So what? That doesn’t matter to me. In fact, the more I associate with you, the more it twists the emperor’s guts, which makes me feel good. Imagine how he’d feel seeing the family he raised with all the power he could give consorting with someone he hates—it keeps me up at night just thinking about it, in the best way.”
Roshanne smiled sharply. Without realizing it, Cheyton clenched his fist tightly.
If he didn’t, the trembling in his hand would only worsen.
‘Sometime, I’ve felt this before.’
Cheyton furrowed his brow.
This unfathomable depth of anger. And the instinctive fear and awe it evoked.
It felt like an emotion he had definitely experienced before, but the memory wouldn’t come clearly.
“…The emperor might abandon the Railaten family. He could frame them and have them all killed.”
“It’s fine. He doesn’t have the guts for that.”
That’s why, even with Cheyton being such a thorn, he couldn’t kill him directly and still anxiously sent him out whenever signs of war or civil unrest appeared.
Roshanne knew the emperor better than anyone.
“And the emperor won’t have the mindset for that right now.”
Roshanne asserted with firm conviction. With the most important hero gone, how could he spare the attention for mere nobles?
“So you don’t need to worry about me, Grand Duke? I told you before. Even if it’s my situation, don’t concern yourself—just hold on tight, bind me, and don’t let go.”
I plan to do the same.
Roshanne twirled the lace parasol in her hand. As the parasol spun, dark shadows and intense sunlight alternated across her face, leaving afterimages.
“I’ve answered your question with all sincerity, so now it’s your turn, right? I have something I want to ask too.”
Roshanne stopped twirling the parasol.
“I’ve been studying the empire’s history lately, and your story came up. Ten years ago, you set out on the mad dragon subjugation, didn’t you?”
The mad dragon subjugation party.
Cheyton unwittingly grimaced as that detestable term came from Roshanne’s lips.
“I heard the entire subjugation party died back then.”
Thanks to the parasol blocking the sunlight, a cool shadow fell over Roshanne’s face.
It was a simple, light conversation, as usual.
But an inexplicable sense of intimidation emanated from it. Cheyton felt as if someone were pressing down on him from above.
It was hard to even breathe.
“After sealing the mad dragon, what on earth…”
At that moment, Roshanne furrowed her brow. With her face contorted, she suddenly thrust the parasol she was holding sideways, swiftly shielding Cheyton’s face and body.
“What…”
The sunlight vanished, replaced by shadow. Cheyton, flustered by Roshanne’s scent suddenly so close, froze stiffly in place.
And then…
Whoosh!
An arrow tore through the parasol, slicing between Cheyton and Roshanne before flying off into the air.
It seemed Cheyton had been lucky; the sudden parasol cover had thrown off the aim.
“Grand Duke.”
Roshanne smiled.
“The sun is strong, so it might be good for you to use the parasol too.”
