Chapter 31
Ever since the day they had begun sharing a bed again, Rowena’s sleeping place had always been the duke’s bedroom. But on nights when he was away on business, as he was today, she would sometimes seek sleep in her own room.
The wide bed might have felt empty, but Rowena felt liberated instead. It was because of Killian’s sleeping habits, which had begun after they reunited.
Whether they had lain together or not, whenever they fell asleep in the same bed, he always wrapped his arms around her waist and even tangled his legs with hers, holding her so tightly she could not escape. At such times, Rowena felt as if she had been caught by a coiled viper.
With his even breathing above the crown of her head, his large hand with its protruding tendons, and the heavy presence tormenting her from behind, she could not possibly fall asleep comfortably.
If she tried to wriggle free from the suffocation, the strength around her waist only tightened. Worse still was when he woke.
—Can’t sleep?
—Ah……
—Shall I make you cry some more?
His voice, hoarse from just waking. The tone was gentle, but its meaning was not.
—Rowena.
—N-no. I’ll sleep.
If they did any more, she might not be able to get up at all tomorrow. Goosebumps rising all over her, Rowena squeezed her eyes shut. More often than not, that was how she barely managed to fall asleep.
In the peace granted to her after so long, the muscles that had been stiff with tension whenever she slept beside him naturally relaxed. Rowena contentedly hugged the soft pillow and fell asleep.
A long time passed, and the door opened soundlessly. Quiet footsteps approached and stopped before Rowena’s bed, where she was deep asleep. A hand that had been about to shake her shoulder awake paused in midair. Instead, Killian pulled the blanket, which had slipped down to her waist, up over her shoulders. Just then, Rowena, who had been sleeping softly, turned her body toward him.
“Mm……”
“……”
She had not woken. His breath, tense for a moment, flowed smoothly again.
Without even taking off his coat, Killian sat down on the single-person sofa by the head of the bed. Slowly removing his gloves, he reached out with his right hand and touched her threadlike blond hair. The strands that wound around his fingers as if clinging to them felt as soft as satin.
He slowly bent his back.
Just as his lips were about to touch the forehead of his woman, sleeping like a doll, Rowena, who had been lying on her side, shifted again and lay flat on her back. Her forehead, which had brushed past by a hair’s breadth without touching, turned toward the ceiling. Silently lifting the corners of his mouth, Killian brushed away the hair covering her face.
He turned and opened the door leading to the next room, but then a faint voice reached him. Killian stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned his head. The voice that had been blurred as if crushed came again, clearer this time.
“Don’t go… Don’t go… Mother… Father… please……”
Killian stood still, then turned back. The mattress dipped for a moment.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he laid his hand over her feverish eyes. At the cool touch, Rowena, still half-asleep, raised her hands and caught hold of his.
With a desperate expression, as though grasping at the last straw, she dug in her nails and scratched the back of his hand.
“Father… Mother……”
Like someone drowning who had seized a saving hand, Rowena put strength into her fingertips. At the stinging pain, Killian’s brow furrowed faintly. The nail marks carved into the back of his hand dug so deeply that they drew blood.
Until her gasping moans changed into even breathing, his cool hand remained for a long time over her heated eyes.
* * *
“Hyah.”
The farmer pulled back on the reins and brought the wagon to a stop. At the same time, the man who had been leisurely lying on the pile of straw opened his eyes.
“Sir. Are you sure this is the place?”
“Yes. It is.”
The man hopped lightly down from the wagon and brushed the straw off his coat.
After a long stretch, he looked at the castle looming before him.
It was a beautiful structure with a bustling village before it and a vast lake behind it. The outer wall enclosed the castle as firmly as a fortress, and above it four spires soared high into the sky.
“Thank you for bringing me this far, elder.”
“I was passing this way anyway. Well then.”
The coachman bowed his head and turned the horse around. The man left behind crossed the bridge over the deep moat and stood before the drawbridge.
A servant who had been watching outside from the watchtower signaled to the gatekeeper. The massive drawbridge slowly descended. The man, who had been looking down at the dizzying height of the water below, walked forward at an easy pace.
Rowena Philone. This was where his one and only niece was. Locked away by some son of a bitch.
The person who came out to greet him was a tall, handsome man with dull blond hair.
“Mr. Roderick Diphonz?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Zenok, His Grace the duke’s aide.”
“Ah. I see. It’s a pleasure.”
Jeremy smiled faintly and accepted the other man’s handshake. As they clasped hands, Zenok discreetly looked him over so as not to be rude. He appeared to be a man in his late thirties. He had shaggy brown curls and wore a shabby suit.
“We sent a carriage for you.”
“Ah. It was uncomfortable, you see. I simply stopped a passing wagon.”
“Is that all the luggage you have?”
“Ah, yes.”
Jeremy nodded. What he carried was a bag so small and light it looked as if it might fly away.
He wasn’t going to stay long anyway, so there was no need to pack heavily.
“You may stay here. You can discuss the details with Miss Philone. For now, the contract period has been set at half a year.”
Zenok did not have a servant do it but guided Jeremy to the room himself. While Jeremy admired the spacious, pleasant room, Zenok continued his explanation.
“You will have no occasion to encounter His Grace. Outside of lesson hours, you are free to do as you please, but under no circumstances may you speak of anything you see or hear here. You will sign a notarized pledge to that effect as well.”
“Ah. You needn’t worry about that. I only have one life too, so would I really do such a thing?”
There was a strangely barbed edge to his reply. Zenok wondered at it for a moment, but soon decided he must have been mistaken and changed the subject with a smile.
“Thank you. At any rate, this is a relief. Since you are a renowned author, I was worried about how we should receive you, but I am relieved you came.”
“You flatter me. As it happens, I was taking a break from writing at present, and I was short on money.”
Jeremy plopped down on the high, soft bed and made a circle with his index finger and thumb. At the gesture so openly referring to money, Zenok doubted his eyes.
Grinning, Jeremy suddenly asked,
“By the way, I was surprised that His Grace’s secretary is so young as well. You must be quite capable.”
“Pardon?”
“You look twenty-nine. Am I right?”
“…
Yes. That’s right.”
Startled, Zenok nodded. He was often told he looked older than his age.
“How did you guess my age?”
“Why, intuition.”
Jeremy shrugged and yawned widely.
“I’m terribly tired. Would it be all right if I washed up and took a nap?”
* * *
“I heard he was somewhat eccentric.”
Killian loosened his tie and handed it to Rowena as he spoke. Rowena, who had taken the tie after his coat, smiled.
“He has his peculiarities, but he is an excellent teacher. He is having a good influence on Damian as well.”
He had been a man who bared his fangs at even the first syllable of Damian’s name, but now he had become much gentler, to the point that saying the name aloud was permitted.
“It’s only been about a week since he came here, but I like him.”
“Then that is fortunate.”
Killian answered indifferently, then asked casually,
“What did you do today?”
“I spent time with Countess Celine at the salon. She said she is holding a charity banquet at the end of the year. She asked me to lend a hand, so I invited her and helped a little.”
When Rowena had been his mistress, her role had been to draw people in. Nobles who wanted the banquets they hosted to become a topic of conversation, or who wanted to curry favor with the duke, sent her invitations.
But that had only ever been as a “guest.” This was the first time someone had asked for her help with an important gathering like a charity banquet.
The reason was obvious. It was not uncommon for a high-ranking nobleman without an official wife to entrust the management of his household to his mistress and grant her the corresponding authority.
It was proof that Rowena’s position in society had risen from the duke’s woman, who would be discarded once he tired of her, to a woman equal to a duchess. One might have expected her to be pleased, but Rowena’s expression was calm.
Unaware of the gaze fixed on her, Rowena unfastened the cuff link on Killian’s sleeve.
“She said the banquet on the night of the eve left a very strong impression on her. I think I’ll be busy with that for a while. Of course, there are invitations to write, an orchestra to arrange, a chef, and also……”
Her voice, which had been flowing smoothly, cut off at the face drawing nearer.
Tilting his head at an angle, Killian looked down at her from a distance where their breaths touched. He was so close that their smooth noses nearly brushed and she could see each one of his long eyelashes.
Rowena lifted her gaze. Jet-black hair falling over the left side of his forehead, a straight and neat brow, long and delicate eyebrows whose ends rose upward. Clear sky-blue eyes as cold as a glacier. An arrogantly high nose bridge and lips with a redder hue than even hers.
“And also?”
At the gaze that seemed to be admiring his face, Killian lifted the corners of his mouth and mischievously wrapped his arms around her waist. At the same time, the coat and tie she had been holding fell.
“Y-Your Grace……”
“I asked you, Rowena.”