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Chapter 7
“Meet me under the lemon tree.”
Deus slowly spoke the title of the book aloud.
“Do you know it?”
He stared at the intruder with unwavering eyes.
The brief moment of waiting felt endlessly long.
“Of course… I do.”
Deus exhaled a trembling breath. It was the moment he had longed for.
His existence. The time they had spent together.
The realization that it hadn’t been a memory special to him alone brought a surge of exhilaration.
“But… Your Grace, is it really appropriate for someone like you to keep something like a forbidden book?”
But that joy lasted only for a moment. Her next words made all the blood in his body turn cold.
“Is that… all?”
“…What do you mean, is that all?”
“Is there supposed to be more?”
Unlike him, struggling to even speak, the intruder remained calm as if it were a perfectly natural question.
Everything in his vision turned black.
The letter in his hand was crushed into a mess.
He closed his eyes. A deep despair dragged him down into the abyss.
This is insane. Seriously.
Rosalyn blinked rapidly, anxiety filling her eyes. Anyone could see she looked hurt.
She was confused.
It was certain that Deus remembered the past.
But she could not understand why.
Naturally, she had assumed that if he remembered her, it meant he wanted revenge.
Even if she had arrived late, she still bore responsibility for his parents’ deaths.
So she had pretended not to know him. She didn’t want to receive old resentment.
But why did he look so hurt?
What did he want from her with that question?
Only one thing was certain in all this uncertainty.
Deus was looking for her.
Which meant she must never let him discover her identity.
“U-uh… Your Grace.”
Rosalyn cautiously called out to him.
Deus slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. His gaze was dangerously fragile, as if he might shatter at any moment.
Rosalyn, who had been about to demand he just write the letter already, quietly closed her mouth.
Now was not the time.
They remained in silence, locked in each other’s gaze.
Swallowing his despair, Deus finally spoke again.
“…Do you know how this book became forbidden?”
His expression was unsteady. Rosalyn was deeply grateful for her mask.
How could she not know? She was the one most responsible for turning it into a forbidden book.
Meet me under the lemon tree.
At first glance, it looked like a romance novel. But beneath that surface lay a story of brutal, relentless revenge.
A protagonist who lost everything to a dragon, trained for years, and finally killed it—only to be fatally wounded himself, ending his life beneath the lemon tree where his family was buried.
It was originally just a common novel.
But it gained notoriety when rumors spread that the “dragon” in the story was actually a metaphor for the emperor.
Cruel. Greedy. Incompetent. Foolish.
Unlike noble dragons of legend, this one was depicted as a pathetic being that inspired fear rather than reverence.
Yet, as a dragon, it was still the most powerful and noble existence in the world.
The rumor that the dragon symbolized the emperor spread rapidly across the empire.
I really shouldn’t have said that back then… I shouldn’t have mentioned the emperor at all.
Rosalyn quietly swallowed a sigh.
The one who first pointed out the connection between the emperor and the dragon… was her.
And at that very place, Deus had been clutching the book tightly.
Even while fleeing pursuers, he had refused to let it go.
That was when everything went wrong.
She had casually asked what it was about. He had explained it excitedly, saying he loved stories of a hero defeating a great evil dragon.
And she had scolded him, telling him he shouldn’t read such things or he might be accused of regicide for treasonous ideas.
She had only meant it as advice—throw it away if you don’t want to be labeled a rebel.
But that single remark spread through rumor, becoming interpreted as hostility toward the emperor himself.
Naturally, the imperial court had declared the book forbidden.
And now he’s obsessing over it like this… seriously?
Rosalyn internally clicked her tongue.
But now that she had denied it once, she had to keep hiding her identity.
“Well, it became forbidden because the emperor declared it so, right?”
“The emperor…”
Deus repeated her words.
At that moment, Rosalyn felt her stomach drop.
She had instinctively said “emperor” instead of more respectful terms.
Few people in the empire dared speak of him so bluntly.
And she was one of the few who always spoke too freely about the emperor.
“Well, for nobles like Your Grace who can meet His Majesty directly, it might be different. But for people like us, he’s just a tyrant tax-collector. Go outside and you’ll hear worse—I’m being polite, actually.”
It was a pathetic excuse. The more she spoke, the more wrong it felt—but she couldn’t stop now.
Whatever. Fine. I’ll just act shameless.
She quickly coughed and changed the subject.
“Anyway, this doesn’t seem like the right place or time for a deep discussion on imperial art and class differences. Shall we get back to the letter?”
“Appropriate… is a relative concept.”
“Then you should consider the other person’s perspective even more. This clearly isn’t a topic I should be discussing with you.”
Deus let out a faint laugh. He still had no confidence in winning a verbal exchange with her.
Rosalyn stared at him incredulously. He could still laugh in this situation?
Exhaustion crept in. Maybe it really had been a mistake to take this job.
“Don’t laugh and just deal with the letter already. I’m a busy person, Your Grace.”
Rosalyn waved her hand tiredly. Deus slowly unfolded the crumpled letter.
Once I get paid, I’m leaving this filthy place.
Her eyes gleamed as she watched the sealed letter finally about to be opened.
“Good, good. Read it quickly, write a reply, and we’re done here, Your Grace.”
“…Done?”
Deus’s hand stopped again.
The atmosphere, which had begun to loosen, froze once more.
“Done? You mean the kind of ‘done’ I think you mean?”
He tightened his grip on the letter and asked again. His expression was more intense than anything she had seen so far.
Seriously, my mouth is the real enemy here.
Rosalyn stared blankly at him.
They had returned to the starting point.
This was maddening.
“…If I don’t write a reply, does that ‘end’ not come?”
Another absurd statement followed.
Something inside Rosalyn snapped.
“What kind of nonsense are you talking about—no, I mean, endings come whenever they come. It has nothing to do with the reply, Your Grace.”
She barely restrained herself from exploding.
She wanted to grab him by the collar and force him to write it. But she couldn’t afford to get closer—if he saw her face, everything would become worse.
She took a deep breath.
Only one person was allowed to lose their composure here.
“Your Grace, aren’t you tired of dragging this out with me? I didn’t come here to kill you, just to collect a reply. And you even emptied the estate—clearly you’re hiding something.”
“That’s not it! I just… I just—!”
Deus shouted in frustration.
“No. It is. You can’t even explain yourself properly.”
“That’s…! Haah… It’s not that. It’s just a vacation.”
“Yes, that sounds like a convenient excuse for the outside world. Now please write the reply.”
Deus bit his lip as she dismissed him completely.
That’s not it. I did all of this to see you.
From the day you saved me… I’ve been thinking of you ever since.
But he couldn’t say it.
If she knew that a stranger had been silently harboring feelings for years, she would surely run away without looking back.
He could not lose her again after finally finding her.
Deus clenched his lips until they turned pale.
He needed a way.
He needed a method to keep her by his side.
“Your Grace, I really would prefer to speak politely, but you keep stalling like this.”
Rosalyn’s patience was gone.
She pulled out a letter knife. The thin blade glinted sharply.
She spun it effortlessly in her hand.
“Unless you’re hiding something else?”
The blade stopped between her fingers.
She flicked it lightly.
Then she drove it into the desk.
The blade pierced deep into the wooden surface in one motion.
Cold eyes locked onto Deus.
“Maybe you’re trying to trap me here… or maybe this empty-looking estate isn’t actually empty.”
Her gaze shifted past Deus toward the packed bookshelf.
“Or maybe there’s a rat hiding somewhere.”
Killing intent filled her eyes.
Deus’s face darkened.
The misunderstandings were piling up deeper and deeper.
