Chapter 3

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Obsessive Mad Dog Tries to Imprison Me 102

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Rihart moved slowly, trying to catch me.

I gripped the hairpin tightly, waiting for him to draw closer.

Sweat slicked the hand clutching the hairpin.

Rihart's approach looked sluggish, and layered over it was the image of the knight emerging from the forest to finish me off.

Even the blood fountaining up.

My stomach roiled.

Captured by that hallucination, Rihart was suddenly right in front of my face before I knew it.

When the hell...

I stepped backward to create distance again, but Rihart stretched out his arm to seize me.

Convinced I couldn't let myself get caught like this, I swung the arm holding the hairpin I'd kept hidden behind my back.

Intending to stab Rihart straight away.

But in a hollow anticlimax, smack—my hand was caught by Rihart.

"Tsk."

Rihart gazed at me struggling with utterly impassive eyes.

I yanked desperately to free my seized hand, pulling backward, but he dragged my arm toward him.

"...!"

Helplessly hauled in with no time to even feel shock, Rihart wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Did you think you could just swing it wildly without even knowing how to kill a person?"

"...Let go."

"What am I supposed to do with you being this clumsy?"

Rihart stroked my cheek, looking regretful.

"Didn't you tremble like a leaf after killing that one knight last time?"

"..."

"You think you could actually stab me?"

He wasn't wrong.

Unlike my resolve, the hand gripping the hairpin shook uncontrollably.

I superimposed the knight I'd killed before over Rihart.

Rihart smiled pityingly at me as I did.

"You could never kill me."

"You're awfully sure of yourself. It'd be hilarious if you ended up dead."

I stared straight into his eyes without flinching.

In the taut atmosphere, neither of us had any intention of yielding.

"Still, it was pretty cute. Trembling and putting up a fight like a little animal, you know?"

"..."

"You're just like a cat."

I wanted to spit right in that smirking face.

Rihart snatched the hairpin from my hand.

"I felt it before, but this thing could come in pretty handy."

"...That's mine. Give it back!"

"But you were going to use it on me, so I'm confiscating it."

I stared helplessly at the hairpin as Rihart took it away.

I should've brought a few more.

Not that he wouldn't have taken those too.

"And keep provoking me like that isn't a good idea."

"..."

"Shall we get going again, then?"

"No. Let go of me!"

My opinion was completely dismissed.

Rihart scooped me up and resumed moving.

I'd wondered where that foul stench of blood was coming from.

Blood-soaked knights lay sprawled around the unassuming carriage.

Yurta clicked his tongue, eyeing the open carriage door.

Naturally, with it in this state, there was no one left inside.

Yurta jerked his chin toward Asel.

Asel sighed, grasping the meaning without a word, and approached the fallen knights.

He checked them one by one for breath or consciousness.

"Ugh..."

Then one groaned, announcing he was still alive.

"Wake him."

Yurta's voice remained ice-cold despite the pitiful sight.

He'd spent three years searching relentlessly for Rozhi.

Yet she'd been nowhere to be found.

Then fresh news arrived.

Seyblin Baroness's pink-haired aide.

She bore a striking resemblance to the maid Rozhi who'd fled Evantes three years prior.

It was a letter Gilbert had sent to Evantes.

Yurta swiftly gathered intelligence.

Hearing that Marquis Evantes had mobilized, he raced north at once.

He had to find Rozhi before Marquis Evantes did.

But he'd arrived a step too late, learning only that the pink-haired woman imprisoned there had died.

Yurta stood stunned for a time upon hearing it.

Sis was dead?

He nearly killed the servant delivering the news on impulse.

Asel broke out in a cold sweat holding him back.

"Calm down. There's no proof that pink-haired aide was Lady Rozhi."

Taking Asel's words to heart, Yurta regained some composure.

Right—no guarantee it was his sister.

Thinking rationally now, this might even be a trap Rozhi had laid.

There was no evidence.

Just that Rozhi was the type.

"Search the area immediately."

Issuing the order, Yurta set out himself.

Where would Rozhi have fled to?

A remote spot in the north untouched by people—one she could slip past checkpoints quickly...

Heading the most probable way, Yurta discovered the downed knights and the abandoned carriage.

"Ugh... Miss Sabrina..."

The knight, barely regaining consciousness, mumbled faintly.

Yurta seized the fallen knight by the collar and hauled him up.

"Yurta-nim!"

Asel cried out in alarm, but Yurta couldn't care less about the knight's safety right now.

"What the hell happened here? Explain—fast."

Mind foggy, the knight still opened his mouth instinctively at those eerily gleaming red eyes.

"Su-suddenly... sh-she attacked and fl-fled..."

"Attacked? Which way?"

"The mountain..."

The knight passed out again without finishing.

Yurta flung him aside in irritation.

Asel prayed for the poor knight's rest.

"He's the only one who came to."

"Fine. I've got what I need."

Yurta turned, gazing toward the mountains.

His sister was there.

He smiled rapturously.

"Comb every inch of this area."

They say humans are learning creatures.

I screamed at Rihart to let me go, hurling every curse I could muster.

I hit and thrashed, but it was pointless.

If anything, he complained it was hindering his movement—this lunatic actually unwound the cravat from his neck and bound my wrists with it.

Not tight enough to hurt, but plenty to restrict me.

And as he did, he remarked,

"A bit sexy, isn't it?"

What the hell was this madman on about?

In the end, I exhausted myself.

I gave up and let Rihart carry me.

Staying rigid with vigilance only works briefly before it wears you out.

Stubbornness requires stamina.

No point struggling now anyway—I needed to save my strength.

For a comfier rest, I leaned my head on his shoulder, and Rihart's body went rigid.

What now?

You're the one who grabbed me by force.

'What time is it?'

Long past sunset, the pitch-black sky offered no clues.

The northern mountains were enormous.

As Rihart climbed, I couldn't guess his destination at first.

But after some thought, it clicked.

'Can't pass the checkpoints.'

He was going over the mountains.

Escaping here would just get me caught by Rihart quick, and even if I succeeded, I'd be lost.

Best to wait till we were out and make a break then.

Plotting that, I dozed off in Rihart's arms.

Falling asleep bound by his cravat in the hold of a man I had to watch warily—it was downright bizarre.

I repeated nodding off and stirring several times. Eventually, I truly conked out.

When I woke fully, I was in an unfamiliar room.

A canopied bed, tapestries adorning the walls.

Where the hell had this madman taken me?

Waking to such opulence left me dumbfounded.

Yet relief washed over me too.

'I figured he'd shove me in some dingy room like 'take that'.'

A room this nice? Where's the revenge in that?

Felt like checking into a luxury hotel on vacation.

Stunned by the unforeseen extravagance, I scanned the room.

Then—bang—the door flew open.