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~Chapter 9~
Outside, a cool night breeze was blowing.
Shariette looked up at the sky, still faintly dark with stars scattered across it.
Then she looked at the man who had rescued her.
‘He’s definitely angry.’
Why is he holding it back?
Was she too insignificant to bother with?
Well, this man was different in build from Blanche, the delicate young lady, or Matthias, the doctor and researcher.
Hmm. She let out a low groan.
‘Then what should I give him as a bonus?’
A man as hard to read as the time between night and dawn.
If he knew her true identity, he would kill her, but for now, he was the man who had saved her.
‘Such a strange man.’
Feeling her gaze, Noxian looked down at her.
Sparkle, sparkle…
Shariette hugged the vine-decorated box in her arms tightly.
‘Anyway, I should say it this time.’
She forced out her voice.
“…Thanks for saving me.”
In truth, she had wanted to say it two years ago—if she hadn’t been an Argen.
To the most destructive savior who had burned down that massive swamp.
“So you can say something that normal and ordinary?”
What the—does he think calling her ‘Crow’ means she’s actually bird-brained?!
Shariette narrowed her eyes sharply.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll take it back.”
“I’ll accept it.”
Noxian’s eyes curved as he smiled.
“So you didn’t actually want to die?”
“Am I crazy?”
Noxian gladly savored the warmth and weight of the survivor in his arms.
Fine, whatever. This time he hadn’t missed her.
And from now on, he just had to make sure not to miss her again.
“By the way, maybe you don’t know this, but usually you don’t give thanks for free.”
The apothecary, clearly not understanding his joke, thought for a moment before asking:
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Are you going to cook it for me?”
Hmph, nothing so trivial. Shariette lifted her chin confidently.
“I’ll make your medicine taste like that. Strawberry, black tea, chocolate, tomato stew, onion soup…”
She began listing examples of custom-flavored prescriptions.
Noxian turned his head to hide a laugh, but failed.
Pfft—when laughter escaped, Shariette shook her foot in displeasure.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. My apothecary is very skilled indeed. I’ll take bitter chocolate flavor.”
See? She was amusing.
If he laughed again, she looked ready to kick him with her bloody foot, so Noxian swallowed down the rest of his laughter.
“Crazy…”
“Are we all under some kind of group hallucination?”
The knights who had caught the arson suspect, and the servants who had come to escort back the personal physician found after two long years, rubbed their eyes.
From the ruined apothecary, the devil-like Noxian Rubellot walked out carrying a woman in his arms—wearing his robe, no less.
And they were even talking casually!
“Oh, Red Dragon, please watch over us…”
“No, this is a hallucination. Damn. Did someone put something in our dinner?”
From all sides came desperate complaints about visual overload and cognitive dissonance.
‘Tch, the White Crow’s turned into an Ash Crow.’
In the midst of this, Josef, who had grown used to her over the past few days, grumbled.
Seeing the soot-covered Crow lady made him feel oddly uneasy.
Others who regained their senses felt the same.
The victim rescued from that chaos was both pitiful and captivating to look at.
Though parts of her were burned and smudged, her naturally pale, translucent skin and mysterious turquoise eyes couldn’t be hidden.
Her slender figure was almost completely hidden in Noxian’s arms, making her bloody, tattered feet stand out even more.
‘My sleeping potion’s burning right now. Blazing away. Is there anything more dangerous than that?’
…Could that burning sleeping potion actually be her?
Whether or not his subordinates were shocked at their lord treating a person like a potion, Noxian approached and glanced at the kneeling man.
“This the arsonist?”
“Yes, we caught him hiding near the scene, watching. We also found a magic stone engraved with fire magic on him.”
Noxian’s expression returned to the familiar bored one they knew.
“He tried to kill himself as soon as he was caught, so we haven’t gotten a statement yet.”
“Well, I think I get the motive.”
It was the man who had been dragged out of the apothecary earlier, screaming for them to save his friend.
“Saved his half-dead life, and he repays me with arson.”
…But was that really all?
‘There’s no need to make such a show of setting a fire. And no reason to try killing yourself after being caught.’
Noxian pressed down on the kneeling man’s knee.
Then, smiling, he made an offer:
“Think carefully. One, tell the truth and get beheaded. Two, spill everything after a scandal and get hanged. Three, keep your mouth shut and burn to death.”
“Ugh… mmph…!”
A muffled groan of pain came through the gag.
Hack—A choked cough came from above.
It was Shariette.
Glancing at the woman in his arms, he eased off the pressure.
“Shariette, my apothecary seems reluctant to decide his punishment. Do you want to be merciful?”
The knights swallowed nervously at his gentle tone.
In the tense silence, all eyes turned to the white-clad woman.
Shariette replied pitifully:
“It’s not that—I just can’t get compensation if he’s dead.”
She glanced at the arsonist once, then at the blackened wreck of the apothecary.
And she let out a deep sigh.
“This isn’t even my place, it’s rented…”
The first thing that came to her mind upon seeing her shop’s condition after escaping the fire was:
‘How am I going to pay for this?’
Noxian let out a short, incredulous laugh.
He’d thought she would insist on sparing the man’s life.
Truly unpredictable.
Looking around, he signaled with his eyes to one side.
“Talk to my aide about compensation for all material and physical damage, including that building. He’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
Following his gaze, Shariette spotted a man with especially dark circles under his eyes, shaking out some pills and swallowing them.
They were stomach medicine.
‘The first thing he does in front of someone who tried to burn him alive… Yep, you’ve found someone just like yourself.’
This man’s name was Luke Elden.
Noxian Rubellot’s direct aide, cursed to suffer chronic sleep deprivation simply because he was close to his lord.
He’d come running with the hope that his never-ending overtime was finally over, only to find this mess.
“But why are you paying for it?”
Shariette asked.
When she tried to glance back at the arsonist, Noxian naturally shifted toward the carriage, blocking her view.
It was parked nearby to take her away once morning came.
“You seemed to have memorized the contract by heart. Isn’t there a relevant clause?”
Her answer came fast:
“Article 3, Clause 3: Party A is responsible for Party B’s safety and protection, and Party B is responsible for Party A’s health and care!”
As soon as she finished, she was finally moved from his arms to a seat.
Wide as it was, the softness of the cushion shocked her—it was even better than her own bed!
Shariette, who had only ever ridden in cargo wagons, was amazed.
‘Wow, I want to take this with me.’
As she wiggled in awe, Noxian explained:
“From the moment you signed the contract, you became my person. That means I’m responsible for your damages.”
“‘My person’?”
‘Shasha, if you’re my person, you should at least do this, right? You’re alive thanks to me.’
Blanche had often said similar things.
‘If I gave you to Matthias, you’d be disposed of in no time. You should be grateful to be under me, you ungrateful little rat.’
Hmm. Same words, but they sounded a bit different now.
Shariette rubbed her ears, as if just remembering made her eardrums ache.
“Yes. My person, my possession, my limbs.”
Noxian emphasized each word.
