“Antonio. This is for Roselia’s sake.”
“For Roselia’s sake? What on earth are you talking about?”
“Bad rumors burn out quickly. People who thrive on slander always find new prey soon enough.”
Klaus stared at the weekly tabloid, his gaze cold.
“But after this article, no one will dare to treat Roselia carelessly again. To touch her now is to make enemies of both the Baltezar Duchy and the Crown Prince.”
Roselia, stunned and momentarily frozen by his words, shook her head. She wasn’t the type to be swayed by such smooth, manipulative rhetoric.
“Are you not considering her position at all? Even if the rumors die down, the stigma will follow her for the rest of her life.”
Klaus turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable.
“Besides, the person who wrote this knows her face. They recognize that the woman who danced with the Crown Prince at the masquerade and the one who danced with the Duke are the same person.”
Roselia’s voice hardened.
“This article is just the opening volley.”
Klaus listened in silence, then pressed his fingers to his temples, his voice dropping to a heavy, low register.
“Antonio, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
He looked at her with a frigid expression.
“There is no need to be rattled by a third-rate rag. If we show agitation, we are only handing them the bait they crave.”
“Then you’re telling me to just stand by and watch?”
“If we leave it alone, the heat will dissipate.”
Roselia’s fist clenched, trembling. To think Klaus, a man so arrogant and commanding, could be so passive. She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t he claimed she was a woman who interested him? Yet, faced with the woman he had kissed being dragged through the mud, he remained utterly indifferent. Rage, hotter than her disappointment, surged within her. Unable to contain it, she turned sharply, kicked open the office door, and stormed out.
Klaus, who had seemed preoccupied with his documents, shifted his gaze toward the door she had exited. He scanned the tabloid she had discarded, then muttered under his breath.
“Did you find Roselia?”
The question was not directed at the empty air, but had a singular, focused intent. Almost immediately, Alejandro emerged from a side door and bowed his head.
“I monitored the back alley residences as you instructed, but I did not see Lady Roselia. It is as if she vanished into thin air… no matter how hard we searched, we found nothing.”
“…….”
Klaus’s brow furrowed deep. Truth be told, his first priority after seeing the tabloid had been to locate Roselia. It could have been the mischief of a gossiping crone, but if someone was meticulously targeting her… that was a threat far greater than any tabloid. He had to identify the mastermind. Until he held a clear clue—until he caught the tail of that bastard—he had to let them believe their plan was working. They needed to lower their guard. It made his blood boil, but Roselia’s safety was his only true priority. Yet, the woman was nowhere to be found; despite the duchy’s entire intelligence network being mobilized, her trail had gone cold.
He could have told Antonio, but he didn’t want to drag him into a potential death trap. It was an ambivalent, gnawing feeling Klaus couldn’t quite name.
“Shall I follow Antonio?”
At Alejandro’s cautious question, Klaus deliberated, then let out a long, ragged sigh.
“Never mind. For now, find the author of this article—Rugvella, or whatever their name is.”
“Understood.”
Recognizing the foulness of Klaus’s mood, Alejandro bowed and vanished. Left alone, Klaus glared at the tabloid for a long, silent time.
* * *
Roselia strode out of the mansion, her blood boiling.
So, it had nothing to do with him? He didn’t care about the woman he’d kissed, did he? A man who only pursued profit wouldn’t waste time on unproductive drama. A cold-blooded creature with no heart! After cursing him a dozen times, her pulse began to slow.
She looked up at the sky; the sunset was bleeding into the horizon. A phrase from the bottom of the tabloid suddenly surfaced in her mind.
‘Beneath the silent sunset, Rugvella…’
It seemed like a flowery sign-off, but something felt wrong. Was it just her imagination, or was there a hidden message?
‘Silent sunset… Silent Sunset?’
The name struck a chord. It was a tavern she had grown familiar with while navigating the back alleys with Nadya—a place located far deeper in the slums.
When the pieces clicked, the sign-off took on a sinister clarity. Rugvella was waiting at the Silent Sunset.
Without hesitation, Roselia left the mansion. She knew better than to go as herself; it was safer to remain in her Antonio persona. She planned to lurk near the tavern and see if she could identify someone suspicious—someone who might be Rugvella.
She kept the risk of a trap at the forefront of her mind, hiding in the shadows of an alley to observe the entrance. Rugvella was after Roselia, not Antonio, which made the observation relatively easy.
Just as her tension peaked, a chilling sensation pricked the back of her neck. Before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Mmph!”
Damn it—she had been so focused on the tavern, she’d let her guard down. Was this a trap? As a man in a black robe forced her back, she struggled, but the grip was like iron.
The man slowly pushed back his hood. Roselia froze. The face revealed beneath the fabric was none other than Duke Baltezar.
Klaus, his brow furrowed with evident annoyance, slowly released her mouth.
“How did you know about this place?”
“Pardon?”
“You didn’t come here on a whim, did you?”
“I… I guessed it from the phrase in the tabloid. Rugvella.”
Klaus’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his cold composure. He had only just deduced it himself after sending Alejandro away. That she had noticed the clue and arrived before him… her observational skills were sharper than he had imagined.
He sighed, his frustration returning.
“That person is trying to provoke Roselia into coming here.”
“Which means Rugvella is waiting for her.”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a sharp, cold edge.
“I am begging you, can’t you just stay inside the mansion?”
Roselia didn’t back down, her expression hardening in return.
“If it were you, Duke, could you just watch from the sidelines while Lady Closette was in danger?”
“…You never lose an argument, do you?”
Klaus swept his bangs back, his face a mask of conflict.
“I don’t know what Rugvella wants, but it isn’t benevolent. Whether it’s to threaten me or the Crown Prince, you are in danger.”
He leaned in, his eyes locking onto hers.
“Where is Roselia?”
Under his intense gaze, she swallowed hard, taking a step back.
“She is not here.”
“I know she isn’t here. I’m asking where she is.”
Her back hit the stone wall, but her voice remained steady.
“As you said, Duke, since she is in a dangerous situation, it is better if as few people as possible know her whereabouts.”
Klaus’s expression crumpled in genuine frustration.
“I am on your side, so tell me.”
Roselia’s eyes flashed with anger.
“Why should I trust you, Duke? A moment ago, you acted as if her life was merely a nuisance.”
“That is…!”
Just then, several men emerged from the tavern, heading toward the alley. Startled, Klaus pulled his heavy robe around them both, pinning Roselia against his chest so she wouldn’t make a sound. Because of his broad frame, they looked like nothing more than a lone, imposing figure standing in the shadows.
The men walked past, indifferent.
“They said the wench looking for Rugvella would show up, but she hasn’t even cast a shadow.”
“Doesn’t matter. We get paid just for waiting.”
“Did they say her name was Roselia?”
“Whatever it is, they told us to catch anyone looking for Rugvella. We wait.”
Only when the footsteps faded did Klaus release his grip. He remained tense, his navy-blue eyes burning as he glared at the retreating shadows.
“I suppose it’s fortunate that Roselia is not here.”
In reality, the very woman they were hunting was trembling in his arms. She cleared her throat, shielding her face as Klaus’s gaze remained fixed on her with a dangerous, searching intensity.