Chapter 32: Rowina
Naturally, at being called by her name, Rowina swallowed a bitter smile.
In this ducal castle, the man before her was the only one who called her that, and even from him, a different form of address had been more familiar.
Miss Philone.
A voice that had respectfully called her by her surname, not only at official occasions but even when they were alone.
But like a tongue tucked inside the mouth, after resolving to behave docilely, Killian had stopped calling her that.
It was a name she had once so desperately wished to be called.
“And….”
Pushing against his broad shoulders with both hands, Rowina hesitantly continued.
“Things like where to place the flower vases… or planning the waiters’ routes.”
The eve festival’s banquet had truly been perfect. Killian remembered what even the skilled butler had said in admiration. “She is nearly on par with, or even surpasses, Countess Essex. From deciding the eve festival’s theme, to drafting the invitation list, table placement, hiring chefs and an orchestra, and even the skill of decorating with fresh flowers. If only you hadn’t dismissed her as a young woman five years ago and had trusted her with the task. Then we would have known she possessed such abilities….”
The butler trailed off and pressed his lips together regretfully. It was the expression of someone realizing that a worthless pebble had been a rough gemstone after all.
Since that occasion, Rowina had begun to display her abilities in managing the castle as if she had sprouted wings. From a woman who had been nothing more than a pretty, smiling doll to the servants, she had now risen to become the mistress of the house responsible for its management.
She was admirable and lovely.
“If you wish.”
Killian swept his disheveled blond hair behind his ear and brushed his lower lip with his thumb. At the tingling sensation, Rowina silently pushed his shoulder.
The man, who didn’t budge an inch, quietly proposed.
“You may receive the key to the underground wine cellar from the butler.”
“….”
Even the heated air seemed to pause for a moment. At the unexpected words, Rowina lifted her downcast eyes. Receiving the key to the wine cellar meant becoming the manager fully responsible for the castle’s household affairs.
“That is….”
Her voice trembled. What had been merely a dream five years ago was gradually becoming reality.
But only after she had realized that this reality was an imitation worse than a dream.
“Not yet… I think it’s still a bit much for now.”
“…Why.”
“There’s much I need to learn. It’s a bit… scary, too.”
It was futile. Everything. All of it.
Killian raised his eyebrows at the unexpected refusal. At the same time, as if she had been waiting, Rowina threw her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes.
He did not refuse the lips that approached first. Their tongues intertwined seamlessly. Rowina surrendered her body to the hand crushing her waist as if to break it. His tongue touched the roof of her mouth and swept over her teeth and every tender part. At the familiar kiss, a hot sensation rose from deep in her belly out of habit.
Just before she ran out of breath, their lips parted.
“Keep doing just that, Rowina.”
Emerald eyes wavered at the low voice. Killian, smiling crookedly, whispered.
“No matter what you think in your head. Whether you hate me or wish to kill me.”
He knew. He had committed cruel acts toward this slender woman that were unforgivable.
He had taken the woman who confessed her love for him as if pinning her down. As if mocking the fading resistance that was soon submerged in familiar pleasure.
And the next morning, he had thrown money at her along with the answer to her desperate confession.
Only after five years had passed did he admit to himself that it had been an unnecessarily cruel ending.
It was meaningless to regret it now.
If everything had crumbled, now he simply had to build it up solidly from the ground up.
“…That could never happen.”
A silence fell, and Rowina, who had barely managed to curve her lips, shook her head.
It was a masquerade in which they both knew they were acting anyway. They were atop a precarious sandcastle that could collapse at any moment. It was no different from a deep abyss. Even if one broke through the buoyancy and rose to the surface of the sea, there was no salvation.
Yes. A play.
All the necessary roles had ascended to the stage.
Until the curtain completely fell and the spotlight turned off, Rowina resolved to continue this absurd play.
“Killian.”
The first time she had called his name since their reunion.
The pale eyes that had remained unshaken even when she cried and wailed now traced her lips as if nailed to them.
“Actually, I have a wish.”
“…What is it?”
Like a cat fawning on its master, Rowina rubbed her cheek beneath his sharp jawline and along his long neck.
“When the snow melts, I want to go to that island once more.”
That island where you abandoned me and married another woman.
The island that would layer another nightmare upon nightmare.
Instead of answering, at the hand embracing her waist, Rowina slowly closed her eyes. The hand that held her shoulders as if coaxing her pulled down the thin robe draped over her chemise.
“Before that.”
“….”
“Let’s go to the capital first. April is the social season. Host as many banquets as you wish, and see as many plays as you desire.”
He was a man who did not like high society. Not only was he prickly and taciturn, but he was also in a position where he had no need to concern himself with others’ moods or sentiments.
But why, then?
No. She was no longer curious. About anything.
What mattered was the way to escape from this man, not what was inside his head.
Casting aside her doubts, Rowina buried her face in his firm chest instead of answering.
“Listen well. It’s six months, Rowina. Just endure that long.”
“Uncle….”
“In six months, ask to go to that island. I will get you and Demian to escape by any means necessary. So even though it will be hard, act as you do now and break down the Duke’s vigilance.”
Her maternal uncle, Jeremy Dish, was a man who kept his word no matter what.
Chewing over her uncle’s words, Rowina deeply inhaled the cool scent that she would never be able to take in again after half a year.
* * *
Four months had passed since Demian had been dragged to the massive castle without knowing why. At first, he had thrown tantrums and vented his frustration at the stifling situation, but he had slowly accepted reality. The master of this castle, his mother’s friend, did not like him. He didn’t know why, but his mother had to stay in this castle.
He didn’t know the exact circumstances, but whenever he subtly probed, a shadow fell across his mother’s face. In this dark life where he couldn’t see an inch ahead, what sustained Demian was the hope that if he endured for just about half a year more, it would end.
“Young master.”
“Hm?”
Demian, who had been cooped up in his room reading a book, lifted his head. Though he was puzzled by the approaching face for a moment, he smiled brightly as he remembered who it was. It was the maid his mother had introduced. She had said she attended his mother.
“Melissa?”
“What were you doing?”
“I was reading a book.”
“I see. May I see what you were reading?”
“Yeah. It’s Teacher Jeremy’s manuscript.”
Demian gladly handed over the book he had been reading, his eyes sparkling.
“He hasn’t published it yet, but he’s planning to soon. The main character’s name is the same as mine?”
“Really?”
Melissa tilted her head at the unexpected words and glanced at the book Demian was holding.
“It really is. I didn’t know he wrote children’s books like this.”
“The most fun part is right at the ending, where Demian, who was caught by the evil demon king,….”
An excited Demian was continuing his explanation when someone cut in.
“Oh dear. That’s an unpublished manuscript; I don’t show it to just anyone.”
“Ack! M-Mr. Jeremy?”
Startled by the man who had approached without a sound, Melissa got up awkwardly and fell on her bottom. Demian burst out laughing at the sight and threw himself into Jeremy’s arms.
“Teacher!”
“Did you sleep well, you little troublemaker?”
Without hesitation, Jeremy ruffled his student’s hair and subtly took the book from Melissa.
“By the way, Melissa. Why did you come?”
“Ah. I just wanted to see the young master.”
Melissa laughed awkwardly and dusted herself off as she stood up. The moment she left the room, Demian corrected his form of address.
“Grandfather. Where’s Mom?”
“I told you to just call me Uncle.”
“But Mom said I should address you properly….”
“When it’s just us, call me Jeremy or Teacher.”
“Then… I’ll call you Teacher.”
“In this regard, you really take after your mother.”
It was far better to resemble his mother, who was a bit timid but polite, than his father, whose personality was trash. Jeremy smirked and got to the main point.
“Rowina is going to the capital today. You’re set to follow in two days.”
They were already a mother and child who only saw each other briefly at night. At the words that they would have to be apart even longer, Demian’s face darkened further. Jeremy clicked his tongue inwardly and placed his hand on his grandnephew’s shoulder.
“You remember what I said?”
“…That if we want to get out of here, what we saw here we didn’t see, and what we heard here we didn’t hear.”
Demian answered with downcast eyes. It was the first thing his maternal uncle, Jeremy, who had said he would help him and his mother, had said when they first met.
Jeremy let out a small sigh at Demian’s sullen appearance.
“Adult circumstances are more complicated than you think. Though you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I know.”
“….”
He didn’t know the detailed circumstances, but Demian was quick-witted. The accompanying wet nurses and maids were kind, but all somewhat distant. Among the people here, the only ones he was even remotely close to were Jeremy, his mother’s maternal uncle and home tutor, and Melissa, her lady’s maid.
But for some reason, Jeremy did not like Melissa very much. The way he had disliked her holding his manuscript just now made that clear. Just as Demian was puzzled by a sudden thought, as if reading his mind, Jeremy suddenly asked a question.