Chapter 08
Roshanne recalled Cheyton’s appearance after the kiss. Unlike the confident expression he had worn when he first arrived, he left the drawing room with a dazed look on his face.
“Why him, of all people? Why does the rumor have to involve that man…!”
The duke pounded the innocent table several times with his tightly clenched fist.
Roshanne looked at the duke with pity—he was like someone with a fine weapon but trembling in fear, too scared to use it.
“What changes if His Majesty hears the rumor? I’m not even an imperial princess…”
“Roshanne!”
The duke hurriedly reached out and clamped his hand over Roshanne’s mouth. He quickly checked to make sure no one nearby had overheard.
“You mustn’t say such things carelessly.”
The duke warned Roshanne with a chilling gaze. It was nothing like the playful attitude he had shown until now.
Ever since childhood, he’d been leashed so tightly that he didn’t even realize how fragile the chain was, never once attempting to break it—the foolish duke.
Roshanne intended to sever the duke from the emperor.
In case she couldn’t find a way to break the seal, she had decided to prepare so that the emperor would hold no power at all.
To do that, first, she had to dismantle the power of the nobles who supported the emperor.
Using the very core of the imperial faction, the Railaten family.
‘It’s mine, so I have to make use of it.’
This generation’s duke might be loyal to the emperor, but there was no guarantee that the one who would inherit next would be the same.
‘I knew it would come to this, so I went ahead and made my move first.’
Roshanne slapped away the duke’s palm that was covering her mouth.
“Your hand is salty, Duke. Wash it.”
“…Ha. Who on earth raised you like this?”
“Well, for starters, it’s the fault of my parent, the duke.”
“Ha. You weren’t always like this. What in the world did that viscount’s son do to turn you into this mess?”
He’d die before admitting it’s his own fault.
“Duke. The rumor has already spread. Since it’s come to this…”
Roshanne wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and stared directly at Duke Railaten.
“Do you have some clever plan?”
“No other marriage proposals are coming in anyway, so why not just announce that I’m marrying the grand duke…”
“Out! Get out! Out!”
The duke grabbed whatever object was in sight and hurled it. He flared up, threw it, and then immediately looked shocked, as if regretting it.
But upon seeing Roshanne catch the items one by one like a dog faithfully retrieving a frisbee, he let out a deep sigh.
＊＊＊
“Your Grace.”
“…”
“…Your Grace?”
“…”
“Your Grace!”
Only after his direct knight, Pabl, called him several times did Cheyton snap out of his daze.
It had been like this for days now. Cheyton would space out while walking down the street, during meals, and even in the middle of training.
Pabl examined Cheyton with concern.
“Are you alright, Your Grace?”
“Uh… yeah. I’m fine.”
Cheyton waved his hand dismissively, but he looked utterly confused.
“It’s the emperor again, isn’t it? He made you wait all night and didn’t even show his face this time either!”
Pabl shouted in frustration, slamming the table with a bang. But Cheyton’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
“Why didn’t you go and say something! Storm into the emperor’s bedroom! Or shout at him! Do something, and he’ll at least show his nose!”
“…Pabl.”
“Every time, he only shows up when he’s sending you off to die—what kind of emperor is that? In the end, aren’t we the ones protecting the empire right now? Let’s cause a scene and say we won’t do any more work!”
“I have a question for you, Pabl.”
“Yes. Speak, Your Grace. I wish I could have gone to the palace with you… but as you know, we can’t show our faces there, so I’m sorry. Ask me anything instead!”
“What does it mean if someone suddenly asks for a kiss?”
“Yes! So, like, give him a kiss or… What?”
Pabl clamped his mouth shut and blinked rapidly.
He felt like he’d just heard something strange.
Having tossed out such a bombshell, Cheyton calmly righted the fallen ink bottle with a blank expression.
“…Your Grace.”
“Yes.”
“You said you were going to see the emperor, but… did you meet a lady instead?”
Pabl, who had watched over Cheyton since his childhood, stroked his shocked heart as he asked.
Until now, there had been no springtime in Cheyton’s life. From the moment he came of age, he’d been drafted into wars and civil conflicts, barely surviving near-death experiences before returning alive.
He’d never been able to laugh freely like other children, never experienced enjoyment—always forced into deadly situations.
“I did… meet a lady.”
“……!!”
At Cheyton’s response, Pabl clamped his mouth shut with a deeply moved expression.
“Can I go out and tell the guys?”
“Don’t.”
“Your Grace has finally… finally! No, when did you secretly find a woman to love? That’s strange. I’ve never once left Your Grace’s side… Which family’s young lady is she? No, that doesn’t matter. But she suddenly asked for a kiss? From you? That’s bold.”
“…Be quiet, Pabl.”
Cheyton pressed his temple hard, his face contorting. Ever since returning from meeting Roshanne, all that lingered in Cheyton’s mind was that kiss.
He hadn’t even had a moment to think about how the emperor had behaved.
“How many years have you been married?”
Cheyton propped his chin on his interlaced hands and asked with a serious expression. Pabl, who had never imagined hearing a question about marriage from his master Cheyton, pretended to wipe away tears with his massive frame as he replied.
“It’s my tenth year now. Don’t you remember? When we went to slay the mad dragon together, it had only been three days since my wedding.”
“I know. I remember. You were clutching your wife’s pendant, which you’d only had for three days of marriage, and crying.”
“Yes. That’s right. The captain laughed at me back then…”
Pabl smiled bitterly as he reminisced about the past, as if recalling someone he could never meet again.
But as the atmosphere threatened to turn somber, he quickly shifted the conversation.
“And the young Your Grace cried along with me…”
“Enough. I’m asking you as a ten-year veteran, Pabl. …Does asking for a kiss first mean she already has feelings for me?”
Cheyton was serious to the point of being solemn.
“It depends on the situation, but…”
“She recently canceled her wedding.”
“…Hold on. Who? The lady? Was she engaged?”
“Yes. It seemed like a forced match arranged by her family… She called it off.”
“Because of Your Grace?”
“…What? Because of me?”
He hadn’t thought that far.
Cheyton’s eyes darted left and right.
“The lady broke off her wedding and then asked Your Grace for a kiss first!”
“…That’s right.”
Cheyton nodded gravely, having omitted the full context. Listening to Pabl made it strangely seem that way.
“Then it’s clear the lady has feelings for Your Grace!”
“Does it work like that?”
“Haven’t I told you time and again? The best way for a man and woman to get deeply entangled is through a hot scandal! What about you, Your Grace?”
“As for me…”
At Pabl’s question, Cheyton reached up and touched his ear. More precisely, the earring that was a magical artifact to suppress the madness.
It was cracking with a splintering sound. This had started happening recently.
The magical artifact that subdued the mad dragon’s curse was somehow gradually breaking. Even while wearing it, the noisy voices echoing in his head wouldn’t stop.
‘Has something gone wrong with the mad dragon’s seal?’
If this continued, he’d go insane and kill everyone around him, or else end his own life before that.
It was right then that he met that woman, Roshanne.
When he had merely held her hand once, he could endure for a day or two, and now, after unexpectedly kissing her, he had already gone several days without hearing the incessant murmurs.
“I… absolutely need her. That woman.”
Cheyton murmured it like a desperate, fervent wish.
＊＊＊
Roshanne was bored. And she found this boredom utterly delightful.
‘To think I can do absolutely nothing like this.’
Duke Railaten had confined her to the estate for her willful behavior.
Even though it was the social season, he must have thought preventing her from attending the invited balls was a significant punishment.
But contrary to Duke Railaten’s intentions, Roshanne was now incredibly happy.
No one nagged her for sleeping in as late as she wanted, and she could fully enjoy delicious meals.
She hadn’t had much desire to leave the estate anyway, and now the duke had given her a solid excuse with this ‘confinement order,’ so how could she not be happy?
“My lady, we’ve brought dessert.”
On a warm afternoon, as Roshanne sat in the greenhouse wasting time doing nothing at all, the maids pointed with their eyes toward the dessert trolley.
On it were various kinds of bread and sweet jams to spread on them. The jams were in sealed jars.
When Roshanne glanced over, the maids transferred the desserts to the table.
“Thank you.”
Hugging her knees and curling up, having sat motionless all along like a plant photosynthesizing, Roshanne now took a seat at the table.
And she picked up a jar of jam.
At the same time, the maids exchanged glances and giggled among themselves.
The jam looked appealing, filled to the brim in the glass jar.
But it was like jam whose lid wouldn’t open, making it utterly impossible to spread and eat.
Bread that one had no choice but to enjoy blandly, without any jam.
It was a way of mocking that Roshanne’s position was exactly like that.
“Oh my, Miss.”
As Roshanne grasped the jar lid, the maid approached her side with a smile. Deliberately, to tease her one more time.
“The lid won’t open…”
Click.
“Huh? What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”
Roshanne opened the jar lid with such effortless lightness, snapping it open crisply, while batting her long eyelashes.
“…Why did this open?”
“What?”
“Pardon? Oh, no….”
The maid muttered in unwitting confusion.
How did the jar lid open?
“I opened it because it was closed… Is that perhaps something you should be doing?”
“…Pardon?”
“Helping with the master’s meals or desserts is your job… I just did it out of habit.”
“Pardon?”
Roshanne firmly closed the opened jar lid again. Then she handed it over to the maid’s hand.
“Here. Now open it for me. I’ll wait.”
“Pardon? Yes…?”
