“L-let go of me.”
Kasha’s ears had gone as red as her cheeks. She twisted her wrist, trying to pull free from his grip.
Her heart felt ready to burst. Heat spread through her body in waves, and the warmth radiating from him was so intense that her stomach kept clenching in response — a sensation so unfamiliar, so dangerously sensual, that it left her breathless.
Yet more dangerous than any of that was the flutter of excitement his words had stirred in her, and the deep, aching satisfaction that came with it.
Whatever name you call me by, it doesn’t matter. Kasha Rüschino.
That a Holy Knight — so beautiful, so incomparably dignified — would speak words that sounded like the oath of a slave before his master.
And yet, despite the apparent humility of those words, he remained so poised, so effortlessly graceful, that there was nothing diminished about him. Quite the opposite — the way Leon spoke her name made it sound as though it belonged to royalty.
“Kasha.”
“People are watching. Don’t — don’t do this here.”
Only when Kasha twisted her body away did Leon loosen his grip. But he did not let go of her wrist entirely — as though releasing it would be the end of everything.
By now, a considerable crowd had gathered around them.
A fair number of nobles had drifted close, pretending not to look, eyes gleaming like hyenas circling their prey.
“Am I imagining things, or does Lord Leon seem even more besotted with Kasha Rüschino than she is with him?”
“…I thought the same. Goodness. Standing that close to each other outdoors, in plain sight. How scandalous.”
“You sound rather envious, if you ask me.”
“W-what? I do not. Though — that dress Miss Kasha is wearing… don’t you think the color is rather sophisticated? Subtly intellectual?”
“…Perhaps I’ll wear that shade at the next ball.”
As the useless murmuring continued, Leon tilted his head slightly.
“I suppose you’re right that this is not the ideal location.”
With that, he simply began walking — long, decisive strides.
“Leon!”
Kasha, realizing she was being pulled along, raised her voice. He turned back to look at her, and slowed his pace.
But in that moment, the expression in his eyes — so deeply, quietly satisfied — stole the words right out of her mouth.
His eyes were too beautiful. She found she had no desire to disturb them.
“Ah — let’s go back to what you were saying before. My brother will be here soon.”
When they finally reached a quiet stretch of forest, away from prying eyes, Kasha pulled her wrist free.
Leon let go willingly and turned to face her.
Watching her slender shoulders rise and fall as she caught her breath, he felt a quiet ache settle in his chest.
He had tried to be mindful of his stride, but it seemed even that hadn’t been enough for her.
Because of those insufferable nobles.
He had grown impatient — desperate to put distance between her and those calculating, hungry stares as quickly as possible.
The face he was seeing again after two weeks was still pale and delicate. Every fine feature — the subtle shadow at the bridge of her small, straight nose — struck him with a resonance he could not explain.
She had always been like this. The more closely he looked, the more beautiful she became.
Her composed gaze held a clarity of intellect unlike anything he had ever seen in any noblewoman at court. In the quiet lines of her expression, he could sense both the depth of her thoughts and the softness of her nature.
And her deep pink eyes — they always shone with a vivid, unwavering light, as though they were the outward expression of a will that could not be broken.
If only I could understand where that will comes from.
He felt a burning thirst that had no name.
She always seemed to be looking toward some distant, solitary horizon — as though a different wind blew in the world she inhabited.
And Leon wanted to share that world with no one else.
Have I always had this possessiveness in me?
He reflected on himself with a kind of estrangement.
All his life, his sense of duty toward his younger siblings had always come before his own desires. He had never particularly wanted to claim anything for himself, never felt driven to pursue something as his own.
As a Holy Knight from an early age, he had been taught to regard possessiveness as something close to sin.
And yet what he felt now, directed entirely at Kasha, was not so different from the very possessiveness he had long despised as base and unworthy.
Still, Leon felt no urge to suppress it.
Before the first person he had ever chosen of his own free will — the first woman he had ever wanted — he felt an excitement that surged through him like something newborn, raw and trembling with life.
Whatever her goal was, Leon would help her reach it.
And after that, he would be with her.
In everything. In every moment.
For that to happen, I need to make her want me first… and I have no idea how to do that.
Did you truly think… that no one would notice?
He still felt occasional flashes of shame when he recalled the first time he had seen her — at the Tyrot family ball — when he had stood at her fingertips, helpless and consumed by lust.
From their very first meeting, he had laid bare every shameful thing inside himself.
And yet he still knew almost nothing about her. He didn’t know what it would take to earn her favor.
He gazed at the woman before him with the helpless bewilderment of an adolescent facing his first love.
A woman who sometimes seemed nineteen, sometimes like a girl who knew nothing of the world, and sometimes like an old soul who had already passed through seasons of life he had never seen.
Perhaps she caught a glimpse of the fear and confusion in his eyes. Kasha looked up at him, her expression troubled.
“Is the aftereffect serious? How bad is it? When did it start?”
Her speech was a little slow, but steady — no stumbling.
It wasn’t even a conversation about magical devices, yet she was speaking to him naturally. That alone felt like a gift. Enough to make him briefly imagine that he had become as important to her as her craft.
“It began the moment you left Elor Bay.”
Perhaps that was why. Even as the lie passed his lips without hesitation, he felt no guilt.
From now on, Leon’s god was Kasha. He had resolved to live for her.
“…Is that true?”
The color drained from Kasha’s face the instant she heard him.
You always pretend to be calm and unmoved — but you are this tender, this easily undone.
Leon nodded, keeping the thought to himself. He even pressed his fingers to his brow, feigning exhaustion.
“That means it’s already been two weeks! How did you — how did you manage? You should have told me, or at least sent a letter…”
She had been about to say you should have told me, but seemed to remember that she had refused to see him at all. Her voice trailed off.
Noticing the guilt washing over her small face, Leon spoke quickly.
“The symptoms aren’t severe.”
The shadow on her face lifted, just a little. Leon found even that unbearably endearing.
“But something ought to be done about it, I think.”
At last he stepped toward her, closing the distance. Her small lips parted slightly in surprise.
Like petals still damp with dew — the sight of them pulled at him, enchanting and irresistible.
“L-Leon.”
Kasha stepped back.
The emotions moving across her face were too many and too swift for him to read them all.
Was she afraid of him? Did she distrust him? Was she simply confused?
He knew she would not explain herself — not yet, not now.
So he asked.
With all the longing that filled his eyes, in the most courteous tone he could manage, he asked his contracted sweetheart:
“May I kiss you?”
At the question, her soft eyes trembled.
Hesitation flickered across them — but after a moment, she gave a quiet, wordless nod.
Her goodwill: she could not bring herself to leave him suffering under the curse’s aftereffect.
Leon resolved to receive that goodwill in the manner of a priest accepting divine mercy — with even greater devotion.
He drew her slender frame into his arms without a word.
He checked whether the warmth that had left her body in the cold two weeks ago had returned. Then, briefly, he channeled a thread of holy power into her — enough to ease the fatigue from having to keep up with his pace.
And then, as suited a fallen Holy Knight, he gave himself over entirely to his starving instincts.
He removed her wide-brimmed hat. He pressed his lips gently to the smooth curve of her forehead, where a fine mist of perspiration had gathered.
His lips traveled down — and found her trembling eyelids. He felt the restless, uncertain movement of her eyes beneath them, and smiled only inwardly.
Then past the elegant line of her nose, across the delicate space above her lips, his mouth finally came to rest against the taut, pale rose of her lips.
The soft, yielding warmth of them sent a sharp surge of excitement rising through him.
Stealing a glimpse of her face, he saw that her color had risen.
It was not their first kiss — and yet his reason dissolved completely. He cupped her small face in his hands and consumed her lips with exquisite care.
When she opened to him, he entered gladly — exploring the fragrance of her breath, the smooth and silken warmth of her mouth, the gentle press of her teeth.
“Mmh—”
A moan slipped from deep in her throat, as though the sensation had become too much.
A voice so achingly soft it stirred the beast hidden in the depths of him.
For a moment his reason buckled under a wave of desire so intense he wondered if the curse had truly returned.
His hands moved helplessly over her back, again and again, tracing the curve of her spine. At the undisguised hunger of that touch, her breathing grew unsteady.
I’m going to lose my mind.
Leon thought this with complete sincerity.
What am I going to do. I can’t stop. I genuinely cannot stop.
The urge that rose in him was wild and animal — raw enough that he felt he could throw away his title as a Holy Knight on the spot, if it only meant he could have her now.
It was perhaps inevitable, then, that his body — pressed so close against hers — began to make its presence unmistakably known.
Kasha’s tightly closed eyes were beginning to flush red, trembling faintly, when a voice carried to them from the nearby forest path — jarring and unwelcome.
“Why do you keep refusing me? Surely that much isn’t too much to ask!”
What is this. Who is ruining my mood.
Leon had barely formed the thought when the warm breath spilling from Kasha’s lips onto his went still.
The soft curve of her back stiffened beneath his hands.
Leon slowly lifted his mouth from hers and looked at her face.
Her eyes had gone wide.
Surprise, embarrassment — and beneath those, something sharper. Clear contempt. Anger.
The instant he saw it, the owner of that voice came to him in a flash.
“Simon Blanche?”
