Chapter 11
In an instant, as their comrade was taken down, the adult men standing side by side erupted in shouts.
“Who the hell are you!”
“When asking someone’s identity, it’s polite to introduce yourself first. So, who are you guys?”
“Ha. You stepped in with some pathetic sense of justice without even knowing who we are?”
Roshanne glanced at the opponent’s massive hand.
‘Right now, my body is weaker than water-soaked paper, so even one hit would knock me out.’
Roshanne stroked her chin.
In that case, the answer was simple. She just had to resolve it without getting hit even once, right?
“We are…!”
“Never mind.”
Just as the man was about to declare his identity with dignity, Roshanne cut him off mid-sentence.
“I don’t care who you are, so first…”
Roshanne turned her gaze to the child. The child was kneeling, cradling their fallen father in their arms. Children’s skin is still delicate, so blood was already flowing quickly.
“First… let’s get a little beaten up.”
＊＊＊
It didn’t take long to wrap things up. The child, who had been crying moments ago, now stared wide-eyed at the men sprawled on the ground and Roshanne standing there nonchalantly.
“Let’s keep it moderate. Moderate.”
Roshanne pressed her foot firmly against the back of the burly man. He nodded frantically. As a fighter, he’d tasted all sorts of punches, but this was the first time he’d felt such an overwhelming difference.
“I don’t want to get too involved, so I went easy on you. If you come looking for revenge or anything, I’ll really hit you hard.”
…With such a huge gap, and she calls this going easy? The men exchanged glances and resolved never to seek out this woman.
“We should all help each other out and live.”
“Yes, yes. Wise words. From now on, we’ll live a life of helping others.”
Roshanne scanned the men who were responding obediently and lifted her foot from his back. No sooner had she done so than the men scrambled to their feet and fled without looking back.
‘They’re scared stiff.’
Looking up at the sky, she realized too much time had passed since leaving the mansion.
It was time to head back.
‘My hand is aching.’
The force of her punches was the same as ever, but her body seemed unable to handle it.
Roshanne quietly looked down at her trembling fist. Her hand was swollen too.
‘From now on, when I have to hit someone, I should use a weapon.’
Satisfied with this new realization, Roshanne nodded contentedly.
“Um…”
It was just as Roshanne was about to turn away as usual. The child, having gently laid their unconscious father on the ground, scampered over to her.
“They won’t come back for the protection money. I’ve instilled fear in them, so they won’t even think about it. But you still have to pay the rent. That’s something everyone living in the empire has to pay, so don’t fall behind on it.”
“Yes! I’ve got this month’s rent all prepared! Um… thank you for helping us!”
Roshanne stared blankly at the child who was beaming and offering thanks. It seemed the child wasn’t frightened, even after seeing her effortlessly subdue a group of adult men.
“You’re much braver than those adults hiding over there and watching.”
Roshanne reached out, patting the child’s head gently, while scanning the buildings in the alley.
As Roshanne looked around, some quietly closed their windows, others drew their curtains, and another suddenly pretended to be drunk and shut their eyes.
“If I ever get the chance later, I really want to repay you! If you could at least tell me your name…”
“No need. I would have helped even if it wasn’t you but someone else in trouble. So, no need to repay any favor.”
“But…”
“When you grow up to be as big as me, if you see a child crying like you were, don’t ignore them—muster the courage to ask why they’re crying. That’ll be repaying the favor.”
After giving the child’s shoulder a final pat, Roshanne turned away.
And she vanished quickly.
A short while later, safely back in bed inside the mansion, Roshanne closed her eyes as if nothing had happened.
To all appearances, she was nothing more than a perfectly lovely young lady.
＊＊＊
The duke’s daughter who spectacularly wrecked her wedding had now climbed up a tree.
Rumors spread like wildfire within the Railaten household.
Nobles never missed out on such gossip, and the Railaten family was especially juicy prey for tearing into.
“…I heard you got hurt.”
And as soon as the rumors spread, Cheyton came rushing to the Railaten mansion.
“I wasn’t hurt, but the dress got a bit ruined.”
It was their first meeting since that sudden kiss. The strange, unfamiliar sensation she’d barely buried resurfaced the moment she saw Cheyton.
“Why on earth would you climb a tree…”
“There was a bird that had fallen, so I climbed the tree to put it back. I had no idea everyone would make such a fuss.”
“A bird? Tree climbing?”
“…By any chance, does the Grand Duke not know how to climb trees either?”
When he was young, he seemed pretty good at climbing them, at least.
Roshanne asked, recalling Cheyton from his childhood days. At the sight of Roshanne questioning whether he knew how to climb a tree—as if he weren’t even a child—Cheyton let out a deep sigh.
“Ha. I had a feeling from the way you acted toward the viscount at the wedding… but the lady is far too reckless. Are you fearless or what?”
“I’d prefer if you said I’m strong.”
Roshanne pursed her lips, feeling a subtle heat rising, and shook her head nonchalantly.
After confirming there were no signs of anyone around the reception room, Roshanne lowered her voice and asked.
“Are you feeling alright?”
She was clearly asking about the curse. Cheyton almost absentmindedly replied that thanks to the last kiss, he’d been fine for a few days, but he clamped his mouth shut.
It was because that kiss from right here in this very spot came flooding back to him.
“…Your Grace?”
As Cheyton’s face hardened stiffly, Roshanne examined his expression. It seemed faintly flushed as if feverish, or perhaps crumpling more and more as if his condition was serious.
‘It’s because of the madness.’
Making her own assumption, Roshanne glanced at Cheyton’s hand.
He had said before that holding hands stopped the symptoms.
Having finished her thought, Roshanne reached out and firmly grasped Cheyton’s hand.
“…!”
Cheyton’s crumpled face smoothed out in an instant. Seeing his eyes widen in surprise, it was clear it had an effect on the madness.
He must have been suffering for quite a long time.
“But just to be clear upfront.”
While holding Cheyton’s hand, Roshanne spoke firmly.
“Even if it helps with the curse, I can’t cut off this hand and give it to you or anything like that. Of course, even if you cut off my hand and took it, it wouldn’t suppress the curse…”
“Ha, I’ve never thought of that.”
What on earth is she thinking?
Cheyton cut her off mid-sentence with a dumbfounded expression. At his resolute response, Roshanne muttered, ‘Well, that’s a relief then.’
As if she had genuinely considered the possibility that Cheyton might cut off her hand and take it.
‘She’s impossible to predict.’
Cheyton touched his innocent forehead with his other hand and looked down at the tightly held hand.
The small, soft hand was nestled in Cheyton’s large palm, as if burrowing into it.
It was an unfamiliar sensation.
‘Talking with this woman always… makes me feel like I’m handing over control.’
It was the same last time, and now again.
Yet strangely, it also felt oddly familiar…
“…Your Grace. How about you?”
“What?”
Cheyton lifted his head and looked at Roshanne. Her wide-open eyes, like those of a cute rabbit, stared straight at him and blinked.
At the same time, he felt the small hand wriggling in his palm. A peculiar tickling sensation seeped into his skin.
“I’m…”
What does she mean by ‘how about’? Is she asking about our relationship right now? Or how it feels to hold hands? Or maybe the kiss from last time? Or how she feels about him?
“Then it’s clear that the lady has feelings for His Grace the Grand Duke! And how about you, Your Grace?”
Not long ago, Pabl’s words brushed past Cheyton’s ear like a breeze.
“I… like it.”
Cheyton parted his lips as if entranced. At his answer, Roshanne nodded with a calm and composed expression.
What does that nod mean? Does she like it too?
As Cheyton’s thoughts spiraled endlessly, one leading to another, Roshanne finally spoke.
“Then yes, it’s better to proceed like this.”
“…Huh?”
Cheyton dumbly echoed back. Roshanne tilted her head, looking at the dazed Cheyton strangely.
“I mean our relationship. You said you wanted me to treat you with my hand, and I agreed… So to do that, we’ll need to meet often first. That way, we can hold hands like this and at least provide treatment.”
“…Treatment?”
“Yes. You said you want to cure the curse. For that, our relationship needs to appear close on the surface to give us a reason to meet frequently. I was worried that because of the emperor, you might not want to get entangled with my family over something like this, but you said you like it?”
“…Ah.”
Cheyton let out a short exclamation. Roshanne stared at him with a face that couldn’t comprehend why he hadn’t been following the conversation from the start.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell again? I’m holding your hand.”
“Ah, so the hand…”
“What?”
“…No, it’s fine. Continue.”
Cheyton desperately covered his face with his other hand and nodded for her to go on.
“Wouldn’t it be convenient if we pretend on the surface that we’re in love?”
“On the surface…”
At Cheyton’s murmur, Roshanne explained brightly, her face beaming innocently.
“Neither you nor I are likely to develop those kinds of feelings for each other, so no need to worry about that.”
No sooner had Roshanne finished speaking than Cheyton bolted up from his seat. He gently returned the hand he had been holding to Roshanne and muttered, feigning composure.
“That sounds good. Seems just right. …My lady. Something urgent came to mind, so may I excuse myself first today?”
“Huh? Uh, sure… that’s fine.”
“I’ll visit formally next time.”
Cheyton hurriedly left the reception room. Roshanne followed him out and quietly watched his retreating figure disappear quickly.
‘Does he dislike the idea of being lovers?’
He might be in love with someone else. I hadn’t thought of that.
‘Next time we meet, I’ll ask if being a mistress is okay or something.’
Roshanne nodded to herself.
