Chapter 14

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Obsessive Mad Dog Tries to Imprison Me Chapter 112

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Arjen had spent three years searching for me.

I couldn't understand why he'd pursued me so relentlessly.

Because he hadn't been able to stop Rihart from escaping?

"Rozhi...."

Calling my name in a languid drawl, Arjen seized my chin.

Unlike his leisurely tone, his grip tightened painfully on my jaw.

Arjen lifted my head, locking our gazes together. Forcing me to see nothing but him.

"Rozhi."

Why did he keep calling my name?

"You need to answer me, Rozhi."

"...Yes, Marquis."

Crazy bastard.

"Such a good girl, Rozhi."

"..."

"You were just as obedient three years ago—until you stabbed me in the back and ran off."

What nonsense was that?

When had I ever stabbed him in the back?

Was he seriously calling my escape a betrayal?

I was dumbfounded, but I didn't bother defending myself.

I knew Arjen's deranged nature all too well.

He hated it when those he saw as inferiors spoke out of turn.

"Even so, now that I've caught you, you'd better not dream of running again."

Madman.

What was going to happen now?

Captured as a criminal, I'd been dragged straight to Arjen's room.

Tied up tight and forced to my knees, I had to crane my neck to look up at him lounging comfortably on the sofa.

I hated the bored way he stared down at me.

"Now that it's just us, how about a nice, long talk?"

"..."

"Rozhi. Sabrina. Both fake names. So what's your real identity?"

He grabbed my chin and tilted it up.

He'd probably investigated me thoroughly by now. There was no point in feeding him some pointless lie.

"My real name is Rozhi."

His eyes said he didn't buy it.

Ah, whatever.

"Then why the fake identity? What was your goal in sneaking into the Marquis household?"

"...It's not like I hid my identity for some grand purpose before worming my way in. I just changed identities to survive and ended up getting hired there."

What great ulterior motive could Rozhi possibly have had?

Arjen's gaze soured, clearly displeased with my answer.

"And how exactly did you know about my curse?"

"..."

Because I read about it in the novel.

"I know the story you fed me back then was bullshit. I checked the region you mentioned myself—no one there has ever been hit with a curse like this."

What the hell was Arjen talking about?

To piece together what he meant, I racked my brain for memories from three years ago.

<It seemed to ease the seizures whenever they hit. Someone back home with this same mark swore by it.>

<I come from way out on the edge of the Empire.>

Ah. Right—I'd lied to throw him off back then.

I'd planned to bolt anyway, so I'd picked the most far-flung place I could think of. The one that'd take the longest to verify...

Wait. Then...

Did that mean he'd chased me for three years not because of Rihart's escape... but because of the curse story?

"I hate lies, Rozhi."

..........He warned me like he expected the truth, but I had nothing to give him.

"Fine... it doesn't matter."

Doesn't matter?

Arjen's smile sent a chill straight through me.

And sure enough, he started unbuttoning his shirt right in front of me.

Why the hell was he stripping?

Was he insane?

His clothes soon pooled on the floor, baring a beautifully muscled frame.

In my panic, I tried to jerk my head away—but Arjen rose from the sofa.

I instinctively wanted to scramble back, but the ropes held me fast.

As I watched him anxiously, he picked up a knife.

"...Marquis?"

"Hold still."

What the hell was he planning...?

Was he going to kill me now that I wouldn't spill?

"Wai—"

Too late—my desperate call cut off as Arjen sliced through the ropes binding me.

What was he doing?

"Come here."

Arjen shifted to the bed.

He grabbed a box from the bedside table and handed it over.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

The moment I did, a pungent herbal stench assaulted me. A familiar aroma that nearly choked me.

"The salve you rubbed on me three years ago."

"...Why do you have this?"

"Rub it on me, Rozhi."

What was going through his head?

I nearly scowled in sheer absurdity.

I couldn't make heads or tails of it, but to keep Arjen happy—for now—I'd do what he said.

Silently, I climbed onto his bed.

Just like three years ago, I applied the salve to the spot etched with that pattern, as instructed.

It wasn't this big back then, was it?

The curse mark looked darker now, larger too, compared to three years ago.

Staring at it brought Dillon to mind.

"...Done."

I pulled my hands away after finishing—and that's when a faint smile curled Arjen's lips.

"...Ah."

A short, breathy sound slipped from between his lips. Languid to excess, like he was in bliss.

"Ahaha!"

His sudden laughter made me stiffen in shock.

It was nothing like his usual refined smile—raw, genuine, rough around the edges.

"So it was you."

Unintelligible words tumbled out.

"Of course a pathetic little ointment like this couldn't do shit to my damned curse."

Arjen's gaze stabbed straight into me. The look in his eyes could only be described as madness, sending goosebumps racing down my spine.

"Rozhi, I've got a proposal for you."

I had no clue what he might say—my heart pounded wildly.

Arjen's green eyes curved into soft crescents.

A pleased smile, the kind his usual stony face rarely showed.

"Become engaged to me."

...What?

I nearly spat out loud, Are you out of your mind? I barely choked it back, the words catching in my throat.

"...I don't follow, Marquis."

"Was 'let's get engaged' that hard to grasp?"

His tone was utterly casual.

My brain lagged behind by a full beat.

"Ah, right. You wanted to marry for love, didn't you, Rozhi?"

When did I say that?

I scrambled to replay his words in my head. Nothing came up.

Why did he assume I'd memorized every tiny detail from three years ago?

How the hell did he even remember all this trivia...?

"Staying by my side wouldn't be half bad for you."

"..."

"As the fiancée of Marquis Evantes, you'd hold real power too. It'd benefit Seyblin—and you."

Arjen's logic seemed airtight on the surface...

But I didn't like him. And power held zero appeal for me.

"The thing is, I need you, Rozhi."

"Marquis, I—"

"Desperately."

He cut me off before I could finish.

His beaming smile was far too gentle... and all the more sinister for it.

"You really shouldn't refuse."

The room in the Northern Fortress was vast, but its thick stone walls seeped with chill.

I stood rooted in place, unable to move for a long while.

<...Please give me time to think.>

Arjen had smiled at my plea.

<It's not a tough choice.>

He'd acted like the decision was already made.

Could I escape?

I scanned the room.

One door, one window. Minimal furniture. Beyond the glass: towering fortress walls and a snow-blanketed courtyard. A jump from there meant instant death.

Even if I survived the fall, this was the North. No roads. No people. Nowhere to hide.

On a whim, I grasped the doorknob. The window was out...

'Huh.'

It turned.

I glanced around. No knight posted at the door.

I wasn't locked in. I could walk out anytime.

'Guess I've gotten way too used to confinement lately...'

These insane obsessives.

I could leave whenever—but I released the knob and drifted back to the window. It wouldn't change a thing.

<...What happens if I say no?>

<Hard to forgive the Seyblin Baroness for harboring a criminal.>

He'd brought up Michel. Straight-up blackmail.

<I know your secret, but I'm letting you live because I need you.>

<...>

<I'm granting you a lot of mercy.>

Mercy?

I had no idea what passed for mercy in his world, but given how he'd grabbed Rihart out of nowhere and thrown him in a cell, letting me roam free might actually be Arjen's idea of benevolence.

<But after holding back for three years, my patience is at its end. Remember that.>

My head throbbed.

Frost clung lightly to the windowpane. Icy night air seemed to whisper through the glass.

That's when it happened.

A commotion stirred outside. Instinct glued my eyes to the window.

A strange chill bloomed in my chest. An eerie déjà vu slithered up my spine.

And then—a familiar man appeared in view.

Fierce winds thrashed his hair. Even amid the swirling snow, his silhouette was unmistakable.

...Yurta.

He'd come.

Past or present, pests always swarmed Rozhi.

Yurta hated it.

That's why he'd tried to slaughter that damned Holy Knight captain—or his brother—right there on the spot.

Everything about them grated on him.

If Evantes and the Northern knights hadn't stormed the forest, the brawl would've dragged on until someone dropped dead.

Yurta traced the long scar slashing across his face.

His eyes iced over, replaying Dillon's thrusting blade.

"Gotta go fetch big sis soon..."

Butchering those bastards could wait.

The only priority was getting Rozhi.

"Lord Yurta! Disaster!"

A knight bolted up to him then.

"What?"

"Marquis Evantes dragged off Rozhi!"

"What?"

Damn it all...

The mess had tangled bad.

Poor Rozhi, snared by a lunatic like that. She had to be quaking in terror right now.

Ignoring the knights' protests, Yurta raced for the Northern Fortress.

Rozhi was in there.

"Young Lord Herthas, where've you been?"

The Northern Count blinked in alarm at Yurta's feral intensity.

Yurta had embedded himself thoroughly as a guest of the North.

Easier that way to snatch Rozhi if shit hit the fan.

"Something urgent?"

"Nothing for the Count to fret over. Just a trifle."

Every second counted now.

Yurta brushed off the Count and plunged into the fortress, hunting for Rozhi.

Where are you, Rozhi...!

As he dashed along, a mind-numbing fragrance grazed his nose.

Rozhi...!

He bolted toward the scent.

Rozhi sat atop the fortress wall, brushing back her pink hair.

Why was Rozhi up there?

He'd heard Evantes had taken her...

"...Big sis."

Rozhi turned to him.

Her pink locks whipped in the wind.

The snow refused to let up. Vivid pink strands danced in the brutal gusts and flakes—stunningly beautiful.

"Yurta."

Her eyes curved as she called his name.

Big sis was smiling at him.

The sight—and that smile, dazzling enough to blind—swelled Yurta's chest to bursting.

"Why sit in a spot like that? It's dangerous, big sis."

"Yurta."

"Yes."

Perched high with no sign of descending, she called to him again.

Yurta leaned in, ears sharp, ready for her words.

She beamed brighter than ever.

"I'm getting engaged."

"..."

"To Marquis Evantes."

Rozhi's grin shone with utter delight.

Yurta's gut curdled black.