Watching Klaus with his head bowed, a strange, stinging sensation pricked at Roselia’s heart. She stubbornly ignored the feeling, turned her head away, and muttered indifferently, “…I’ll try to mention it.”
Startled by her own words, Roselia bit her inner lip hard. What in the world was she saying? Did she intend to meet him as Roselia? While she was lost in confusion, Klaus slowly raised his head and asked in a low voice, looking straight at her, “Are you sure?”
Seeing him ask again with a look of anticipation, Roselia averted her gaze, her words trailing off as if to dismiss them. “I said I’d mention it, but I can’t guarantee they’ll come.”
Despite Roselia’s bluntness, Klaus curled his lips into a faint smile. “I’m grateful.”
Flustered by his unfamiliar expression, Roselia cleared her throat and turned away. “I’m just going to pass the message on. Just that.”
It was merely a formality to be observed in front of the Duke. For the time being—or rather, for as long as possible—she wanted to avoid meeting the Duke as Roselia.
* * *
Why was she agonizing over Klaus’s words when she thought like that? Roselia stared blankly at the wall as she watered the old flowerbed, the railings of which were nearly falling apart. *Don’t think! There’s nothing to think about! What would you even do if you met him as Roselia?*
“Big brother, are you worried about something?”
At the sound of a young girl’s voice, Roselia snapped back to reality and turned her head in a hurry. There, holding a rag doll, Erlin—looking much tidier than the scruffy child she had been before—was peeking out at her. She was the daughter of the first unrecognized painter Roselia had found, Abelo. That’s right; she had stopped by Abelo’s house as Antonio to deliver the scholarship funds.
“It’s a flood!”
At Erlin’s words, pointing at the flowerbed, Roselia hurriedly lifted the watering can. “Ah, sorry!”
Peering at her, Erlin turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction. “Dad! Something’s wrong!”
Good heavens… is she going to tell on me? While Roselia scratched her head in embarrassment, Abelo, who had been painting, approached, wiping his paint-stained hands on his apron.
“You could just drop off the funds and leave; why go through all this trouble?” he said with a bright, energetic grin that was a stark contrast to his past self.
“Ah, I had some time to spare.” This was the truth; she didn’t want to go to the mansion where the Duke was just yet.
“Has your brother recovered from his illness?”
“Ah, yes. Well…”
Ordinarily, she would have come to deliver the funds as Roselia, but since someone was targeting her, she had come as Antonio. Just as she had told Nadya, she used the excuse that Roselia was ill and she had come in her stead. Since she was killing time to avoid going to the mansion, she had ended up ruining the flowerbed instead, and Roselia scratched her head sheepishly. Watching her with a gentle smile, Abelo sat down on the brick edge of the flowerbed and continued.
“Are you troubled by something? Since I was so rude as to turn you away on our first meeting, I’m willing to listen if you’d like.”
“Pardon? No, it’s nothing…”
“The look on your face says otherwise.”
“…”
Faced with Abelo’s good-natured smile, Roselia cleared her throat and sat down on the flowerbed next to him.
“Ah… well… there’s someone who keeps weighing on my mind. Oh, of course! It’s not that I like him! It’s just… a little, or rather, a lot, he just keeps bothering me.”
“And?” Abelo asked, looking at her with an intrigued smile, as if he were watching a younger sibling.
“Well… he and I are in a relationship that absolutely shouldn’t lead to anything romantic.” *If we did, I might end up dead. That’s how the original story goes.*
As Roselia’s expression grew heavy, Abelo smiled and looked off into the distance. “So, you’re saying he keeps bothering you and stays on your mind?”
“Yes…”
“Hmm… whatever that feeling may be, avoiding it doesn’t seem to be the answer. Haven’t you been avoiding him and agonizing over it precisely for that reason?”
“But…”
Finding that Abelo’s answer brought her back to the starting point, Roselia looked down at the ground with a complicated expression. Abelo smiled at her and stood up, patting her on the shoulder.
“Instead of running away, shouldn’t you face it head-on?”
She was a woman, not a man, but he wasn’t wrong. Avoidance wasn’t the solution, yet she kept trying to dodge the situation itself.
“And there’s no such thing as a relationship that can’t be. Even if the world objects and points fingers, if you like someone and are drawn to them, then that relationship is the right one, even if the world turns upside down.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
At Roselia’s question, Abelo looked at Erlin, who was playing with her rag doll inside the house, and grinned. “Indeed.”
Looking at the light in Abelo’s eyes, Roselia slowly stood up. “I think that helped. Thank you, Mr. Abelo.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Having cleared her thoughts, Roselia tidied up and left. Now that her mind was made up, she intended to get it over with quickly. As she walked down the road to catch a carriage toward the mansion, a sleek carriage swept past her.
Johannes Von Eucheliode, who had been glancing out the window, spotted a man with black hair who looked remarkably like himself and shouted, “Wait!”
The carriage, heading from the capital—where the Imperial palace was—to the Baltezar Duchy, came to a sudden halt at his command.
“Is something the matter, Marquess?” his aide asked, puzzled. But Johannes, who was scanning the road outside, merely furrowed his brow and pushed back his bangs.
“My apologies. I thought I saw something. Let’s move on.”
A man who looked like him? It wasn’t as if he had a doppelganger. It must be because of the nonsense the Crown Princess had been spouting. Back then, the Crown Princess had looked as if she, too, had seen a doppelganger. Lost in thought for a moment, Johannes let out a mocking laugh and rested his chin on his hand.
*I must be very tired. To think I’m bothered by such useless talk.*
* * *
Clutching the hem of the light green dress Closette had gifted her, Roselia bit her lip in front of the mansion. *Yes, this is to face him directly and draw a firm line, just as Mr. Abelo said.*
Having steeled herself, Roselia stepped into the mansion, unaware that eyes were watching her retreating figure from the shadows. Guided by Butler Jeffrey, who had become a familiar face, Roselia headed toward Klaus’s office. Although she could have found her way there blindfolded by now, she played the part of a guest and allowed the butler to lead her to the door.
“Your Grace, Lady Roselia is here.”
Even though there was no answer from within, Jeffrey, perhaps having already been alerted by Klaus, opened the office door without hesitation and gestured for her to enter. Roselia swallowed hard, trying to mask her nerves, and walked past Jeffrey.
Klaus was seated at his desk as usual, sifting through a stack of documents. The only difference was that upon hearing Roselia’s approach, he set the papers aside immediately and stared straight at her. Roselia pointedly ignored his gaze and spoke in a flat voice.
“You asked for me.”
Klaus’s gaze swept over her from head to toe, making Roselia feel self-conscious enough to clear her throat. Only then did Klaus meet her eyes, murmuring in a low voice, “I’m relieved to see you don’t appear to be hurt.”
His voice sounded unexpectedly tender, as if he were truly relieved, and Roselia cut him off with a forced, blunt tone. “Yes, as you can see, I am perfectly fine. There is no need for Your Grace to worry about me.”
Klaus’s brow twitched, as if her words had offended him. “Where on earth have you been all this time?”
“That is… difficult to say.”
Unlike his intention to have a calm conversation if he saw Roselia, her dismissive tone felt like a wall, scratching at something inside his chest. Unlike him, who had been frantic and worried, Roselia’s cold, blunt demeanor began to grate on his nerves.
“Were you with that man?”
In the end, the question he had repeated to himself hundreds of times finally spilled out. Startled by his sudden outburst, Roselia frowned. “Pardon?”
“The man you call your lover.”
Only then did Roselia realize what Klaus was misunderstanding, and she let out a dry laugh. Thinking that making pathetic excuses would be absurd, she frowned and turned her head. “Whoever I was with is none of your concern, Your Grace.”
Roselia looked at him with an expression of pure distaste and delivered the final blow. “And do stop attaching shadows to follow me.”
*Damn it.* Even if she met Rugvella, who was targeting her, she wouldn’t look at him like that. Feeling like a scoundrel, Klaus’s mood soured significantly. *Is my concern and interest so offensive, while that man is fine?*
Already spiraling away from his initial intentions, Klaus allowed his thoughts to spill out without any filter. “Does that man even have the ability to protect you?”
*What is this man going on about?* Who has been treating me like a fly hovering around the Crown Princess all this time? Besides, he didn’t even consider my wishes before putting tails on me—and now he’s interrogating me?
Even more irritated than before, Roselia saw no reason to hold back. “Whether he has the ability or not is irrelevant. I am with him because I want to be.”
“Damn it, Roselia.”
Hearing the word ‘want,’ Klaus leapt to his feet and strode toward her. Roselia ignored her own fright, standing her ground with her back straight, refusing to be intimidated. Klaus stopped just inches from her, so close that she could feel his ragged breath, and hissed, “What was it that we shared that day?”
Roselia knew exactly what he was referring to, but she maintained her composure, averting her eyes to hide her trembling gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Reacting to her feigned ignorance, Klaus curled one corner of his mouth and leaned in even closer. “Do you need me to remind you?”