The curse blazed through him like fire given room to run.
I want to trace every line of you until I know it all by heart.
I want to press marks into your skin until you cry.
I want to watch you lying there, unable to do anything but call my name.
The instant he imagined the sound of her voice crying out his name, reason snapped clean.
Thud. Thud.
Leon’s reddened eyes took in the helpless figure lying before him.
His hand reached the pale curve of her throat.
He drew a scorching breath.
And then —
“Hungry… Simon. Why… sob.”
An unwelcome name fell from her lips.
Like cold water thrown over a roaring fire, the light died in his eyes.
At the same moment, the hand that had touched her dropped away.
Sob. Sob.
Whatever grief she was carrying, another tear spilled down her cheek.
“Hungry… sob…”
Why, he wanted to ask, was she calling out a man’s name and then crying about being hungry in the same breath. And why did watching her tears make him feel as complicated as this.
“…want to leave… sob.”
She thrashed suddenly, as though fighting against something invisible. A small, frantic desperation in her movements — like a bird with a broken wing, barely contained.
She was going to hit her head against the headboard.
His hand moved before he decided it would.
He caught her wrist.
“It’s all right.”
He said it the way you speak to a frightened child.
Gradually.
As though she had understood him, the thrashing stilled.
And then — like a small creature searching for warmth — she pressed her cheek against the hand that held her wrist, seeking it on her own.
His burning hand against her wet cheek. The dampness dried.
Looking at the tear-track crossing that pale face, something moved in the hollow of his chest.
In the ruin he had made of his own interior, in the cracks and gaps of it, something hot and persistent was pressing upward.
Thud. Thud.
His heart had begun again.
In an entirely different way from before.
He sat with that for a moment, uncertain what to do with it. Then he remembered what he had actually meant to do.
He raised his other hand and pressed it carefully to her burning forehead.
Because his own hands ran so hot, her skin felt cool to the touch by comparison. Sweat-damp hair clung to the white of her brow, and at the temple, a fragile pulse beat with a vulnerability that made something tighten in him.
He closed his eyes slowly and channeled the holy power downward.
Long-dormant, it poured into her like a waterfall finally reaching the plain it was meant to reach.
A moment later, Leon lowered his hand from her forehead.
“…….”
She was sleeping. Her face was quiet and at peace.
He looked at it for a long time.
And became aware, gradually, that the lust of the curse had settled — not disappeared, but quieted in a way he could not account for.
The desire was still there. It always was. Burning deep in his gut like lava that had learned the shape of the vessel containing it.
Waiting for any fault line, ready to erupt through it and devour everything.
But a strange certainty had taken hold alongside it.
He would not hurt her.
He would not.
He did not know what to do with this sudden, sourceless conviction. He was still looking at her face when her lips moved — slightly, as though she were about to speak.
As though she were about to call someone’s name.
But the moment passed. She settled back into calm, even sleep.
Is she about to say that man’s name again.
The thought arrived cold.
Simon.
Simon Blanche.
The name connected to a face — the Blanche baron’s son, glimpsed a handful of times at gatherings Leon had attended reluctantly on his father’s insistence. A good-looking face, easy speech, but there had always been something about the way he watched the room — too carefully, too anxiously.
When their eyes had met, he had offered a conciliatory smile and a polite greeting. Leon had never felt any particular need to pursue the acquaintance further.
He had not expected to encounter him alongside Kasha Rüschino.
Kasha Rüschino! Are you seriously doing this?
Following the voice through the library, Leon had found them — and stayed out of sight to observe.
Neither of them knew he was there.
Your apologies are the last thing I need, Simon.
He couldn’t catch every word, but Kasha’s voice had been unmistakably clear and sharp.
Not going to the café — and your little, I want you to—
Simon was speaking in an undertone, too low to follow completely, but the effort he was putting into managing her mood was very evident.
I will never sit across a table from you again.
The look on Kasha’s face then.
The cold contempt, the deep anger — both unfamiliar on that usually composed face. Her eyes, dark and burning.
In that moment, she had looked like someone Leon had never seen before.
What is this.
The dynamic between them was clearly not simple.
He found himself startled that the usually contained woman was capable of looking like that. And watching Simon — all flattery and obvious anxiety — try and fail to reach her.
Leon had observed quietly, his face unreadable.
Then Simon leaned in close to say something directly into her ear.
Leon felt his body tense without deciding to, and made himself hold still.
The exchange between them, from what he had caught, had the shape of something dramatic and emotionally charged.
Could that be the person she wanted me to serve as a shield against?
Her reason for proposing the fake courtship.
If it is, then why would someone in genuine fear of him go to the lengths of making a contract with a man under the lust curse just to avoid him?
He was still turning that over when Kasha stumbled and dropped all her books.
Kasha! Are you all right?
He had to hold himself back from moving.
He watched Simon try to catch her and be refused.
But something is not right with her.
He noticed then, looking more carefully — the flush of her face, even at this distance. The sharpness of her eyes that was not focus but effort — the forced brightness of a small creature using everything it had not to show weakness. Cornered and refusing to let anyone see it.
She’s not going to stay upright much longer.
He started toward them.
Whatever was happening, leaving an ill person alone was not something he was willing to do. He said this to himself, as justification.
Then Simon leaned toward her again, murmuring something, and Kasha stepped back. Her heel caught nothing.
She’s going to fall—!
He moved without thinking.
Thud.
His reflexes were worth something. Kasha landed safely in his arms.
She weighs almost nothing.
Carrying Eve had been more effort than this.
He had barely registered this thought when the heat struck him. Her whole body was burning like a small furnace.
All this, and she pushed herself all the way here—
His brow creased. Behind him, Simon arrived breathless.
Kasha! Are you all right? Excuse me — this woman is my companion. If you’ll hand her over, I can take her—
He was mid-sentence when his eyes met Leon’s. His voice dropped immediately.
Li — Lord Leon? What are you doing here—
You said this woman is your companion?
Ah, yes. That’s correct, more or less.
And your relationship to her is?
Well — that’s, it’s a little difficult to explain exactly—
Leon’s patience for the explanation ran out before it had properly begun.
The woman in his arms was too hot and too light.
He turned and walked.
Simon scrambled to follow.
Your Highness! She really is my companion — I’ll see her home, please, if you would just—
I can’t in good conscience leave a woman’s welfare with someone who can’t explain what he is to her.
No, that’s— Lord Leon! With all due respect, you have nothing to do with any of this, if you’ll forgive me for saying so. Do you even know who she is? You’re just taking her—
Katiana Rüschino. Miss Rüschino of the Rüschino household.
The quiet certainty of Leon’s response brought Simon to a momentary halt. He recovered and kept pace.
Curious eyes were following both of them now from across the library.
Simon looked considerably more agitated than he had during any of his exchange with Kasha.
Even so! I’ve known this woman for two years, Your Highness! What gives you the right to simply — on what basis do you—
I had an appointment to meet her here today.
By this point Leon was at the entrance, scanning for the Rüschino carriage.
That’s — that doesn’t make any sense. Of all the—
Simon was visibly sweating, pale in a way that almost matched Kasha.
The Rüschino coachman appeared, running toward them.
Leon walked toward him, glancing coldly back at Simon.
I am a Holy Knight of the Empire. I trust you’re not worried I’ll do harm to a woman who has fainted.
That’s not what I — Your Highness—
Go home and compose yourself, Lord Blanche. Your stamina appears to be suffering.
Your Highness!
The last cry sounded like it had been bitten off between clenched teeth.
Leon lengthened his stride to put distance between them.
The stare boring into the back of his head was not his imagination.
The Rüschino coachman guided him to the carriage. Leon climbed in before anyone could object and gave the order as though he owned the vehicle.
Back to the Rüschino residence, at once. She’s collapsed — she needs attention immediately.
Oh — yes, sir! Of course, sir.
The coachman had taken in the Holy Knight’s uniform at a glance and answered without question.
The carriage moved, and in the quiet of it Leon looked down at Kasha’s face, slack and pale against the seat, and something occurred to him suddenly.
The curse had not manifested.
Through the entire time he had been holding her and carrying her here.
What is this woman.
He was still wondering when the carriage arrived.
Looking at her now — resting with calm, even breaths on the bed before him — the thought persisted.
The symptoms that had held him like a prison since the curse began. Around Kasha, they lost their rhythm. Their predictability.
Who are you, Kasha Rüschino.
He looked at her with unsteady eyes.
Even now, in this moment, something pulsed in his chest — strange and unfamiliar.
Something that might, he thought, be more dangerous than even the demon’s curse.
“What do you mean? You left him alone with Kasha just now?”
The door flew open. A loud, carrying voice preceded it.
“Lord Leon Aranias! What exactly are you doing to my sister?”
Daryl Rüschino stood in the doorway, red-faced and fuming, staring Leon down like an offended bear.
