Episode 46
No. No, it hadn't been.
He had lost his reason to emotions raging like a storm. It had been nothing but the desire to swallow this woman whole, crush her, and possess her entirely. The next day, after hearing from Jenok that his mistress had left, he simply stood still in that spot for five minutes, then held his wedding as scheduled and departed on his honeymoon.
If only. If only on that night five years ago, when everything about her had been twisted and torn to shreds, he had said these words to her. If only he had told her that what happened during the day was the worst mistake he had ever made, and that she was the only one who would become his wife. She probably would have cried her eyes out like a fool, resenting him to her heart's content, and eventually forgiven him. Because Rowina Fillone was that kind of woman.
But not anymore.
His woman, who had only looked to her master and whispered love prettily like a shy flower bud, was now in full bloom, enchanting him with a single action, a single word. Though she would lower her eyes demurely as if obedient, she would unwittingly raise sharp thorns as she did now.
Not knowing what poison those thorns held, he blindly chased only her retreating figure. Though he maintained the upper hand outwardly, inwardly he was on edge at her every small movement. Worst of all, even in this reversed situation, he didn't feel particularly bad.
Killian, who had closed his eyes tightly then opened them, admitted it.
"The past that has already passed cannot be undone."
"...It is."
"Rowina."
It was the moment Rowina answered as if suppressing something, unconsciously trying to bite her nails. Killian caught her hand and pulled it down, then put the gloves she had removed back onto her hands.
Rowina quietly gazed down at her left hand, then slowly raised her head to face him. Killian interlaced his fingers with her gloved hand and pressed his lips directly to the back of her hand.
"As I said before. It doesn't matter if you act."
"..."
"No matter what you think in your head, act only like this."
"...You did say that."
"Now you may be honest."
"What do you mean?"
"As you are now. I'm saying you may be as insolent to me as you wish. As long as you're honest."
"What will you do if I become utterly insolent?"
"For example?"
"Tormenting Lady Talden, for instance."
"Like a mistress in a popular novel?"
"That's the standard formula, isn't it?"
"Then I suppose I play the role of the foolish man blinded by his mistress."
"Will you do that for me?"
"Gladly."
Killian snickered and played along with her joke. But at the next words, he could not possibly laugh.
"If that mistress dies, as in the ending of those popular novels?"
"..."
"I mean, if. Most tales of poetic justice end that way, don't they? Will you wail for me? Instead of marrying a kind, pretty princess and living happily, will you mourn my death and wear mourning clothes for me?"
Just imagining it sent a slithering, chilling sensation like snake scales sweeping across his entire body. His interlaced fingers tightened around hers of their own accord. Killian twisted his lips. He stared intently into her sparkling green eyes, trying to see what her intention was in saying such things, but all that came back was a pressing question.
"Will you do that? Hmm?"
"Is that what you want?"
Though their clasped hands must have hurt, Rowina nodded without the slightest change in her complexion.
"Because you said I could be honest. Killian. I am a wicked mistress. And you seem to like that more, so I'm asking. Will you suffer so much that your heart is torn to shreds, unable to breathe?"
Her eyes sparkled with an inexplicable, strange desire. A red flush like lips spread across her porcelain cheeks, which seemed to brim with life. Killian, who had been staring fixedly at the mistress to discern her intentions, withdrew his hand as if shaking it off.
"The dead are dead. I have no hobby of embracing a corpse to console myself."
"Then what about the dead betrothed you were pledged to from the womb?"
It was a voice so small he wondered if he had misheard. He furrowed his brow at such absurd words, but Rowina struck first.
"Yawn, I'm so sleepy, Killian."
"..."
"I'll sleep now. Please wake me when we arrive."
"...Very well. Come here."
Killian pulled Rowina, who was trying to sleep sitting as she was, onto his seat beside him and offered her his lap.
"This is a bit..."
"Sleep."
Having announced as much, Killian gently closed the eyelids of the bewildered Rowina. Just as he had done when she used to have nightmares. Just as he had done last night for their child.
It no longer mattered to him what schemes she was hatching in that little head of hers. Even if she was planning to escape, there was no one to help her, and the guards hidden all around them were packed so tightly that not even a drop of water could leak through.
Whatever escape Rowina planned, all he needed was time. Now that he knew who was behind it, he had no intention of delaying further.
He intended to compensate her for everything.
A compensation so great that it would erase all trace of the mistake from five years ago, so great that she wouldn't dare even think of escape.
* * *
With the Duke of Devonshire attending for the first time in five years, the fox hunt was hosted on a grander and more splendid scale than in previous years. Among the gentlemen dressed in riding habits, showing off their famous horses and sporting long mustaches, Killian was visible inspecting his gun. After exchanging glances with Jenok, who clung to him like a shadow, Rowina approached Countess Rachel. The countess, who had been conversing genially with the gathered noblewomen, smiled and greeted her.
"You look especially lovely today, Miss Fillone."
"Do I? I went to great pains."
Unlike before, when she had acted shy and modest, Rowina smiled back confidently and exchanged greetings with the noblewomen she had grown close to in the meantime. Only after exchanging brief inquiries about each other's well-being did they sit down in seats prepared in the temporary tent. The fox hunt, held over two days, was a festival for gentlemen. The ladies and daughters of marriageable age had nothing to do but wait elegantly amidst the dense forest resounding with birdsong for that day's hunt to end.
"Right. Has everyone heard about Viscountess Estelle?"
Amidst the exchange of trivial conversation, one lady abruptly broached the subject. As if she had been waiting, another lady nodded with an intrigued expression.
"They say she's sticking right beside Miss Talden?"
"I saw her recently. Clinging fast, acting as if she'd become the girl's chaperone. Yet the marchioness herself didn't attend due to her husband's health!"
"My. Has she no pride?"
At the ensuing conversation, Rowina and Countess Rachel quietly exchanged glances, reminded of the recent incident. One lady, fanning herself slowly as if bored, clicked her tongue and cut in.
"Actually, I understand. There's a reason—recently, her husband the viscount's loan from the central bank was rejected. They say the House of Talden provided enough funds to barely let him breathe again."
"Heavens, I heard it was almost approved. So you're saying the central bank suddenly rejected the loan at the last minute?"
One person widened her eyes at the unexpected conclusion. The lady who had folded her fan looked around and answered in a low voice.
"My husband is somewhat acquainted with the bank director. I heard that... pressure came from outside, but as for where..."
The central bank was an institution so important that it controlled the lion's share of the nation's wealth, and a lifeline for domestic businesses. It was so proud that passing the loan application through to approval was no easy task, but once passed, one could consider ten years of business prosperity guaranteed, exercising immense influence over the economy as a whole.
"I had to beg and pester to hear this, so it's just between us here. Understood?"
"Of course. My lips are sealed. Don't worry."
"As if it weren't already a secret. Thank you for telling us."
Though curious as to who could exert such pressure on the central bank, everyone held their tongues at that point. Not only did each of them have their family business's fate riding on the bank, but they were also mindful of listening ears everywhere.
"By the way, I was surprised His Majesty wasn't coming today. Countess Rachel, did you hear anything from your sister?"
One lady naturally shifted the flow of conversation and looked at the countess. At the same time, several pairs of eyes fixed on Countess Rachel.
"No. I didn't know either. Perhaps he's indisposed? Unless it's an official occasion, he rarely leaves the palace these days."
Countess Rachel quietly shook her head.
"Well, he is nearly eighty this year. My sister working at the palace says he grows weaker with each passing year."
"It's truly unfortunate. No one can stop aging."
"It's not merely someone else's concern for us, either."
It was when everyone had sunk into gloomy expressions that a lively and spirited young woman's voice broke the silence.
"Countess Rachel?"
None other than the young Lady Talden. As she had been the very subject of their recent conversation, the gathered noblewomen all fell silent. While they exchanged glances, Countess Rachel naturally rose from her seat to greet the young lady.
"Welcome, Lady Talden."
"As I mentioned at the salon, please feel free to call me Veronica."
The young Lady Talden, accompanied by two maids, approached with a refreshingly bright smile.