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Chapter 20
Rose wasn’t sure whether the choice she was making now was the right one. Her original goal had been simple: to escape the count’s household and live a modest life, and to watch Doana’s downfall. But the Archduke of Arteum kept weighing on her mind. They had barely gotten past the immediate crisis, yet the thought that someday they would end up killing the archduke refused to leave her head. According to the flow of the novel, the archduke would soon die—brutally so.
If that happens… I might have to live with guilt for the rest of my life.
She could have saved someone, yet turned away. The fear that she might never escape the thought I killed someone—no matter what excuse she made—tormented her. Her remaining life wouldn’t be quietly happy; it would be hell. Afraid that involving herself in the archduke’s fate might drag her down as well, Rose had agonized over it for three whole days. And in the end, she made her decision: she would save the Archduke of Arteum. She would involve herself in his fate.
“Topaz is a gemstone that protects life and health.”
Despite her clear, refreshing voice, her gaze was resolute.
“I don’t want you to die.”
The moment Rose finished speaking, the archduke’s expression froze cold. A chill radiated from his indifferent face, sending a shiver down her spine. It felt as though she were buried in snow in the depths of winter, frost seeping into her entire body.
Die… me?
The archduke looked genuinely shocked by her abrupt words. Rose often surprised him with unexpected remarks whenever they met, but this was not something he could brush off easily. Though her knees trembled at his reaction, Rose didn’t stop speaking.
“If things continue like this, you’ll be executed. Horribly… and cruelly.”
I said it.
The die had been cast. Now the choice belonged to the archduke. How would he take her words? Would he laugh them off? Get angry and throw her out? Or…
Will he believe me?
If someone suddenly told you, You’re going to die soon, could you easily believe them? No—of course not. You’d dismiss them as a strange person. Rose herself had ignored people who spouted such nonsense in her previous life.
‘There’s a ghost clinging to your back. If you sit down and have a cup of tea with me…’
‘If things continue like this, you’ll suffer a great calamity. Let me write you a talisman…’
‘The sins you committed in a past life are grave. I can see your ancestors weeping.’
Recalling those past memories—where she hadn’t even bothered to respond—Rose looked anxiously at the archduke.
Somehow, what I’m doing now isn’t much different from those people.
Talking about impending death, demanding money as the price of a life. From Rose’s perspective, she was truly trying to save him, but to the archduke, her words might sound like utter nonsense. She glanced at him, hoping desperately that the Archduke of Arteum would believe her.
“……”
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He kept his mouth shut, simply staring at her with dark eyes.
Was this really not the right approach? I could’ve just borrowed money from him… and helped quietly from the shadows.
That had been one of her options. She had seriously considered secretly preventing his death by uncovering the imperial faction’s plans in advance.
But I’m just a countess in name, with no power at all… And if I divorce, I won’t even have access to Eric’s documents…
In that situation, she wouldn’t even be able to spy on their plans—she’d be reduced to doing nothing. She wanted to help him, but she had no intention of postponing her divorce and sacrificing herself like a saint for an archduke she had no real relationship with. Wouldn’t it be much easier to tell him about the imperial faction’s scheme she’d witnessed and face the situation together? That was what Rose had thought.
I should bring this up again after building more trust with him.
Once he felt his life was truly in danger, he would believe her—at least, that was what she told herself. Seeing the archduke continue to stare at her without any reaction, Rose decided she would have to withdraw her plan.
“Interesting.”
At that moment, an unexpected voice broke the silence. Rose’s eyes widened in shock at his response. The archduke was looking at her with sharp eyes—yet not reproachfully, but with interest.
“You believe me?” Rose asked, stunned, as if confirming what she’d just heard.
She’d thought she’d been too hasty—never imagining he would actually believe her. The archduke stroked his chin, thinking.
In the past… it would’ve been hard to accept so easily.
After all, as a member of the imperial family, few could dare touch him. But after the death of Marquis Bled, he had changed. The trap Duke Pliche had laid to eliminate him—if not for Rose, he would have undoubtedly been arrested on charges of murder.
I thought I’d warned them enough over the past ten years.
The archduke had tracked down every single spy the imperial faction nobles sent to watch him and beheaded them all. Then he sent them back as “gifts,” along with letters of thanks:
“It’s rude to only receive gifts, so I’m sending one in return. I’m not sure if you’ll like it. However, it wasn’t to my taste. Next time, send something more to my liking.”
The nobles trembled at the counterattack of the young archduke they had underestimated. But that was only the beginning. Anyone who dared touch the Archduke of Arteum was repaid so thoroughly that he earned the label cunning. Though born with a gentle disposition, he had been forced to become ruthless to survive. Rather than being angered by this, the imperial faction seized the opportunity to fan the flames of rumors about him. Since they couldn’t kill a royal without justification, they exaggerated his reputation to create a pretext for killing him later. The young archduke didn’t bother stopping the rumors from spreading—after all, fewer people harassed him once they did. He endured like that for ten years. Regardless of whether the rumors were true, no one in the empire dared treat the Archduke of Arteum lightly. Just hearing his name was enough to make them tremble.
Looking at Rose blinking her large, rabbit-like eyes, the archduke spoke.
“Why that expression? Were your words a lie?”
“What?! Of course not! Never—absolutely not! I can swear on my life!” Rose vehemently denied it with her whole body, shaking both hands and her head at once, emphasizing that there wasn’t a shred of falsehood in her words. Seeing her like that, the archduke couldn’t help but laugh.
Someone who harbors feelings for me wouldn’t lie to me.
Certain that Rose had feelings for him, he hadn’t doubted her from the start. Unaware of the misunderstanding in his mind, Rose began rambling desperately, trying to prove her sincerity.
“So, um, how should I explain this… I went into the study recently and found some documents there, and in them—”
“Believe.”
A short, powerful word struck her ears. Rose, who had been babbling with a sense of duty to make him believe her, finally closed her mouth.
“I believe you. So you don’t have to try so hard.”
The archduke’s low voice echoed softly in the quiet room. Their gazes met in midair. Though his eyes were sharp, they were filled with trust as he looked at her.
“Thank you for believing me.”
What could have gone terribly awry returned to its proper course through his trust.
“So. I’m curious how you know that I’m going to die.”
The archduke’s eyes curved toward Rose as he guided the atmosphere so she could speak calmly.
“Let’s sit down and talk.”
He sat on the sofa first and gestured for her to join him. Rose nodded and sat down as well.
“Have fresh tea brought.”
Seeing Rose’s empty cup, he called for a maid. The maid soon entered, and Rose quickly spoke to her.
“I’d like a glass of ice water, please.”
She’d been so tense that her palms were sweating, heat rising through her body. She wanted to gulp down cold water to cool herself immediately.
“Yes, of course.”
The maid filled a tall glass with ice and began pouring water. And the moment Rose took the glass—
“Ah!”
Something heavy and golden struck her in the blink of an eye. The glass slipped from her hand and spilled onto the floor. With a loud crash, it shattered into pieces.
Meanwhile, at the Wens Count’s residence…
One of Rose’s maids was keeping watch in her place.
“Haa… You said you’d be back soon—why are you taking so long?”
It was Jane, Rose’s personal maid. Wrapped in sheets on Rose’s bed, Jane let out a sigh. Staring at the ticking clock hands, she looked extremely anxious.
“You said you’d be back before dinner… it’s already almost seven…”
To avoid suspicion, Jane had worn a pale pink wig and lay in bed all day, pretending to be ill. Just then—click. The sound of the doorknob turning echoed. Jane rolled over, burrowing deeper under the sheets, and cleared her throat.
“I’ll take the medicine later. Just leave it there.”
She assumed it was simply a maid coming to deliver medicine for the sick mistress.
“Must be quite ill. Your voice sounds very strange.”
At the voice behind her, Jane’s heart dropped.
Th-the Count…?! Why is he in the madam’s room?!
Thump—thump. Her heart began pounding violently. After his affair with Doana, the count had never once sought out Rose. Why would he enter her bedroom now?
No… it can’t be…
Jane’s face went pale as she squeezed her eyes shut, desperately praying that her fears were unfounded.
“Where does it hurt?”
Eric’s approaching footsteps echoed chillingly in her ears. Then they stopped. Feeling the heavy gaze behind her, Jane swallowed hard, unable to speak. Eric lay down beside her as she faced away from him—and wrapped an arm around the maid’s waist. Realizing her fears had been correct, Jane froze completely.
Madam… what do I do?!
Rigid with fear, Jane screamed silently. Eric’s touch around her waist was driving her mad. She had only agreed to briefly take Rose’s place, trusting that she’d return soon… Neither Jane nor Rose had ever imagined that Eric would come to Rose’s room.
“…Don’t you have something to say to me?”
Eric whispered teasingly into the maid’s ear. She flinched at his breath. He stroked the pale pink wig, revealing the slender neck beneath the hair. His hand, which had been gently caressing her hair, slowly stopped. Staring at the exposed neck, Eric suddenly pressed Jane down roughly.
Overwhelming terror surged through her body. Trembling violently, Jane clawed at the bedsheets. Perhaps because his actions filled her with such fear, she began to have a seizure—foam forming at her mouth as she gasped for air, overwhelmed by terror.
I—I can’t… breathe…!
