Chapter 19

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 117

-----------------------------------------------------------------

제117화

What on earth had I just heard?

Before I could even mull over his words, Rihart swung one leg onto the bed and leaned his upper body toward me.

"Rozhi."

The man who usually exuded a kind impression was giving off an eerily chilling aura right now.

Yet the beauty that could captivate anyone remained unchanged.

I hurriedly placed my hand on his shoulder.

Rihart quietly gazed down at my hand.

I gripped his shoulder tightly.

"Rihart, I'm not sure if you know this, but..."

I slowly closed my eyes and then opened them again.

"Marquis Evantes is staying upstairs."

Instead of locking me up, go take revenge on Arjen.

Follow the original story a bit, for goodness' sake.

But whatever he made of my words, displeasure furrowed his brows upward.

"Are you threatening me to swallow my fears because you have a fiancé?"

"...That's not it."

"Then what?"

He toyed with my hair, asking in a leisurely tone.

"I don't know exactly what feelings you harbor for me, but one thing's clear—you hate me."

Three years ago, after I betrayed him and ran away, Rihart had undoubtedly harbored emotions that went beyond mere resentment.

"Those feelings must have played a part in why you locked me up."

Rihart wouldn't leave my hair alone, twirling it around his index finger.

He didn't seem to be taking my words seriously, but his blue eyes had settled calmly.

"This might sound a bit pathetic, but I'm not the only one you hate."

"So, take Marquis Evantes upstairs instead of me?"

"..."

I hadn't exactly said to take him, but I couldn't deny it outright either.

Rihart looked utterly incredulous, but I felt a little wronged.

In the novel I read, you were the one who locked up Arjen. Arjen's the one you should resent, not me.

That's all I'm saying—go to him instead. Was that so strange?

"For a supposed fiancé, that's harsh treatment. Though I'm glad about that..."

He muttered slowly before trailing off.

He seemed lost in thought, choosing his words carefully for a moment.

"You know nothing."

What context was this?

For the first time, a bitter expression flitted across his face.

"You really know nothing."

Why was he suddenly saying I didn't know something?

I frowned at the cryptic words and blurted out,

"Do we even need understanding between us?"

We're just left with bad blood, nothing more.

But Rihart clearly didn't see it that way.

He swallowed a wry smile. But it wasn't his usual relaxed grin.

His face looked fragile, like it could crumble any second. He brought my hand to his cheek.

"You truly have no interest in me."

"...We're not in a position where I should."

"That's heartbreaking, but I figured you'd at least wonder why I can't smell your scent anymore."

"...Why can't you?"

Rihart's eyes lit up at my question, delighted.

"To have you."

"...What do you mean?"

"Why else would I go to the battlefield and swing a sword I didn't even like?"

The way Rihart looked at me made it plain that everything had been for me.

"Every night, falling asleep amid the stench of rotting corpses, I thought about it. If I crawled out of this hell, could I see you again?"

He buried his face in my palm. His hot breath wetted my skin.

"I don't care if I can't smell scents anymore."

It was such an odd thing to say.

The reason I'd been valuable to him was... because of that scent that could heal him.

"Why?"

I finally couldn't hold back and asked him.

"You went through all that for just some bad blood?"

No matter how much of a Transcendent he was, the battlefield was different.

With his overwhelming power, he'd survived, sure—but war took more than lives.

No matter how strong he was, it was a hellhole of splattered blood and endless screams.

He might have burned with vengeance once, but were those feelings worth enduring that agony?

It was completely beyond reason, utterly incomprehensible.

"Yeah. Why did I do that?"

Rihart muttered as if even he were puzzled by his own actions.

Who else would know if not you? Listening from the side, it was utterly absurd.

"One thing's for sure..."

His gaze, which had wandered into space as if deep in solitary thought, returned to me.

"You think that by locking you up, I've settled the score..."

He gave a rueful smile, as if pitying me.

"But this isn't something that can be settled."

That one sentence blew away every argument I'd prepared to persuade him.

Feeling cornered, I glared at him and asked,

"So you're going to lock me up again?"

"I told you. I'm still thinking about it."

Is that what you call this?

Rihart laughed as if amused by my sullen expression.

"Keeping you where you only see me doesn't sound so bad after all."

"..."

I hoped it was a joke, but it was probably sincere.

Rihart brushed my disheveled hair behind my ear with a gentle touch, unfazed by my frozen face.

His body, already leaning toward me, pressed even closer.

"Rozhi, shall we kiss?"

He whispered low.

The man's beautiful face, bathed in moonlight, was intensely seductive.

I started to refuse but changed my mind.

"If you promise to go back quietly."

Rihart pondered for a moment.

Decision made, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against the corner of my mouth.

"Open your mouth."

I hesitated but complied.

His hot tongue pushed relentlessly into the slight gap.

It already felt overwhelming.

Unwilling to lose to his rampaging intrusion, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pretending nonchalance.

But handling a man who'd lost his reason and turned into a desire-driven beast wasn't easy.

Fearing I'd devolve into a beast too, I tried to pull away—but he was faster.

Rihart pulled my waist close with desperate hands, one gripping the back of my head.

His actions blocked any escape, choking the breath out of me.

Tears welled up physiologically, and I looked at him with pitiful eyes.

If he had any conscience, he'd stop soon, I thought, gazing at him pleadingly—yet his blue eyes, savoring sweet flesh, gleamed strangely.

The hand on my waist tightened.

"Nngh..."

His movements in my mouth turned violent. He was like a beast stripped of all reason, pure instinct left.

Only just before my mind went hazy did Rihart pull his lips away.

His lips parted slowly, regretfully, flushed red.

"...Rozhi."

He called my name in a voice addicted to the intense pleasure.

His eyes were feverish with arousal, pupils dilated hazily.

"Shall we do it once more?"

"...Can't you see me panting here?"

For some reason, he laughed, clearly enjoying it.

"Is it okay to do this with me when you have a fiancé?"

Who was the one who suggested it first? Now I felt like the bad guy.

And we'd only signed a contract—no engagement yet.

'But it's basically an engagement contract anyway. Do I really need to care?'

Arjen probably wouldn't give a damn.

This feels like cheating, though.

"Go back now. You promised to leave my room quietly if I kissed you, remember?"

"Of course."

I worried he might break the promise, but thankfully, he didn't.

Still, he lingered with reluctant, lingering touches until I pushed against his chest.

Then he finally pulled away with a sigh.

He looked so disappointed.

"Go now."

Rihart smiled at me, eyes crinkling.

"See you next time."

"...Next time?"

I'm leaving this place tomorrow. Would I ever see you again?

It felt like an ominous parting shot.

Rihart was in a good mood.

As he stepped out of the castle, a fierce wind whipped around him.

His silver hair fluttered in the gusts.

Snow was still falling.

He tilted his head up, watching the flakes tumble down.

The sky was swallowed by darkness; the source of the snow was invisible.

The world was a blanket of pure white.

He stood there for a long time, face upturned to the snow.

The man remained rooted in that spot.

For a very long time.

All the while, his mind was filled to the brim with one woman.

The image of her disheveled pink hair and swollen lips as she looked at him before he left her room wouldn't leave his thoughts.

Her clothes disarrayed too, shoulder straps slipped down past her shoulders.

How tantalizing it had been.

Rihart recalled the sight and smiled amid the white snow.

Laughter nearly burst out, but wouldn't that seem too frivolous?

As he savored the joy, he remembered Rozhi's new fiancé and scowled deeply.

His mood shifted abruptly.

The elation sank low in an instant.

The man clenched his hardened jaw and pulled a hairpin from his pocket.

It was the one Rozhi had tried to stab him with before.

Twisting it revealed the hidden blade inside.

He twisted it back, concealing the blade again.

Unable to keep still, his hand gripping the hairpin clenched into a fist, then relaxed.

After foolishly repeating the motion for a while, he pressed his lips to the hairpin.

Rozhi's.

Remembering that lifted his spirits again.

Dawn was breaking.

No time left to delay.

Unable to prolong the bliss, Rihart sighed shortly and twisted the hairpin to reveal the blade.

Without hesitation, he plunged it deep into his own throat.

Red blood sprayed everywhere as his body collapsed.

Snow-dyed red and the fallen man.

That was the only trace left atop the piled snow.