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Chapter 24
“Things took longer than I expected.”
Late at night, Rosé arrived at the count’s estate and let out a sigh. She glanced around cautiously, her movements careful and guarded. Keeping close to the outer wall, she made her way toward a secluded spot. The massive wall was so high that even a fully grown man couldn’t hope to vault over it. Rosé scanned it from top to bottom, then took a deep breath. Was she actually thinking of jumping over it? She inhaled as if ready to sprint, then puckered her lips.
“Fweee— fweee— fweee.”
In the still darkness, a low whistle rang out three times. Rosé pressed her ear to the wall, as though waiting for someone’s signal.
“There’s no one…?”
The confidence she’d worn while whistling twisted into unease.
“What do I do? This is the only way in…”
She grew anxious. She knew she was a little late, but she’d thought she could get in without any trouble. Grinding her teeth, she darted her eyes around nervously. She leaned her ear to the wall, tapped it lightly with her fingers—but no matter how long she waited, there was no response.
“I’m screwed…”
She’d thought it was the perfect day—negotiations with Grand Duke Arteum had gone smoothly. Who would’ve expected this kind of snag? If Jane, lying in her bed as a stand-in, didn’t return to her quarters by dawn, people would surely start to suspect something. Determined, Rosé hopped in place, preparing to jump the wall. A pitiful leap. With that ability, she couldn’t even touch it, let alone climb over. Staring up at the towering wall before her, Rosé sighed.
“Alright… just one more time.”
Clutching at straws, she whistled again.
“Fweee.”
Once.
“Fweee.”
Twice—and then,
“Madam!”
Just as she was about to whistle a third time, someone called out to her. Rosé looked up toward the voice. Against the night sky, she saw a lean figure vaulting over the wall. He landed lightly in front of her.
“Cern!”
It was Cern, her escort knight. Unable to hide her relief, Rosé greeted him warmly.
“Where were you? I thought you weren’t here.”
“I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed off.”
Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Cern spoke lazily.
“No need to apologize. I’m just glad you showed up.”
“You’re very late. Did everything go well? I was so worried! You insisted on going out alone!”
Cern grumbled at her, wearing a sulky expression. Seeing him still yawning, Rosé let out a soft laugh.
“Worried? You look like you were completely out cold.”
“Well—that’s because you were much later than you promised! I was exhausted from searching the whole village and just nodded off for a moment!”
Brushing back at her teasing, Cern pouted. Rosé smiled apologetically and told him she was just joking, soothing his mood.
“Come on. You need to get inside now.”
Though still grumbling, Cern reached out his hand. He still had traces of youth about him, but he easily scooped Rosé up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Hold tight. Here we go.”
Taking long steps backward, Cern inhaled deeply, then sprinted forward at terrifying speed. Rosé clung to his neck even tighter. Even while carrying her, Cern leapt lightly, braced one hand against the wall, and vaulted over.
“That’s it. Go inside quickly. Jane will be waiting.”
After landing safely, he set her down and whispered.
“Thank you, Cern.”
“Next time, I absolutely won’t agree to something like this.”
“Okay!”
Rosé answered quickly to his worried words and hurried into the mansion. Everyone was asleep. A few guards stood watch, but no one paid attention to Rosé in her maid’s uniform. Like a kitten, she tiptoed into her bedroom. There, lying on the bed, was Jane. Just as asked, Jane wore a pink wig and was covered with a white sheet.
“Jane.”
Rosé whispered softly as she approached. But there was only heavy silence—no response. Jane’s back, turned away, sagged limply. The sight made Rosé’s worry spike.
“Jane, I’m sorry. I’m really late.”
She hadn’t meant to be this late. The clock already pointed to ten. As Rosé drew closer, she sensed something was wrong. Jane’s body, which she’d assumed was asleep, was trembling.
“Jane?”
Rosé rushed to her side and quickly checked her face. Jane was crying silently.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Madam…”
Jane’s fingers trembled as they clutched at Rosé. Rosé lit the lamp by the bed and looked at her anxiously.
“Jane, are you okay? Why are you crying? Don’t tell me… Eric did something to you?”
Grabbing Jane’s shoulders, Rosé asked urgently. Jane only shook her head, eyes brimming with tears.
“No…”
“What do you mean, no? Something definitely happened…!”
Seeing Rosé so worried, Jane’s emotions surged. Our poor mistress. Kind-hearted and beautiful… Watching Jane cry helplessly, Rosé felt her own throat tighten. It was so unlike Jane to cry like this—and Rosé knew all too well that it was because of her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jane.”
Rosé pulled her into a tight embrace. Tears welled up in Rosé’s eyes as well, and Jane felt them soak into her shoulder.
“No… nothing like what you’re thinking happened.”
It seemed Rosé had misunderstood, thinking Eric had harmed Jane. That wasn’t entirely wrong—but the tears Jane shed now were for Rosé. For three years, Rosé had been neglected by Eric, and it broke Jane’s heart. And it hurt even more that Rosé loved such a man so desperately.
“Oh, my lady… my poor lady… what will you do… hic… sob…”
Unable to hold back, Jane broke down completely, patting Rosé’s back as she cried. That night, the two women clung to each other, shedding tears for a long time. Their clear tears, shed for one another, finally subsided after thirty minutes.
At the same time.
Doana and Eric were tangled together on the bed, holding each other tightly.
“Count.”
Doana, barely able to move, called to Eric, who lay sprawled out. She snuggled into his arms, putting on an affectionate tone.
“Are you asleep?”
Her voice was sweet and coaxing, but Eric didn’t stir, his eyes still closed. Refusing to give up, Doana called him again.
“Count?”
Annoyance flared in Eric as Doana poked his cheek repeatedly, trying to wake him. He’d finally exerted himself and wanted to rest—why was this woman pestering him now?
“Why don’t you sleep? After all that, are you still not satisfied?”
His irritated voice rang out. Doana frowned.
What is he saying? How irritating.
Everything had passed in a blur. She could barely remember what had even happened. Eric might be tired, but she wasn’t satisfied at all—not even close. In her original world, she wouldn’t have spared a glance for a man like this. But unlike in Korea, this novel’s world gave her nothing—no money, no status. Nothing satisfied her. The only hope she had was to bear Eric’s child and raise her position.
…I’ll endure it because he’s handsome.
Staring at Eric’s face, Doana swallowed her anger. If not for his sculpted looks, she would’ve left long ago. What he lacked could be filled by others—so it was fine. She pressed herself tightly against him.
“Count, by the way, what exactly happened at the banquet three days ago? You said you’d tell me, so I’ve been waiting.”
She recalled Eric’s irritated expression when he returned to the estate that day. Something had clearly happened between him and Rosé.
They didn’t even talk for three days, and they ate separately, too.
If only he hadn’t gone to Rosé’s room that evening, today would’ve ended perfectly. She’d tried subtly probing Rosé, but Rosé hadn’t opened up easily. At the mention of Rosé, Eric—who’d looked on the verge of sleep—slowly opened his eyes.
“I think it’s time to make a decision.”
“A decision?”
Doana found Eric’s reaction to Rosé deeply irritating, but she hid it and clung to his arm, staring up at him with wide eyes. Would what he say benefit her—or harm her? Without blinking, she watched his lips, tense with anticipation. Their relationship was clearly strained, so it shouldn’t be bad for her—but you never knew.
“Lately, I feel like Rosé has really changed.”
Eric began quietly.
“She’s become extremely insolent. Trying to crawl over me without knowing her place—it’s laughable.”
Clutching her chest, tense moments ago, Doana now inwardly cheered. Seeing Eric complain about Rosé, she fanned the flames.
“Actually, Rosé said something similar.”
After casually opening, Doana looked at Eric. He seemed curious about what would come next.
“She said her feelings for you aren’t what they used to be. That she’s tired of always following you around. Sometimes she even finds your face unpleasant to look at.”
She made it all up, deliberately scratching at his pride.
That woman…
Eric was dumbfounded, yet still convinced Rosé couldn’t live without him. Even when she cried and clung to him, he barely tolerated it—yet she badmouthed him behind his back? Clearly, Rosé was gravely mistaken. She seemed to believe that the venerable Wens Count family didn’t even have the word “divorce” in its dictionary.
That’s why she dares treat me like this—thinking I can’t bring up divorce.
In reality, divorce in conservative noble society was tantamount to disgrace. The very concept of “mistresses” existed largely because they couldn’t divorce without losing face.
“I’ll divorce Rosé within a month.”
Eric decided he needed to firmly crush Rosé’s inflated pride. A fallen noble with no money—once divorced, she’d be begging like a pauper. He had no intention of paying her a single coin in alimony. The party at fault wasn’t him, but Rosé. She’d refused her marital duties and tarnished the family’s honor.
At his hard declaration, Doana’s face flushed. Divorce… at last, divorce…! Once he divorced Rosé, the seat of Countess would be vacant. Doana had no doubt she’d claim it.
Finally, he’s saying what I wanted to hear.
A brilliant smile bloomed on Doana’s face. Since transmigrating, how much she’d bowed and scraped to survive. Once she became Countess, there’d be no need for that. Everyone in the estate would look up to her and never dare treat her lightly. Drunk on sweet dreams, Doana smiled in satisfaction—unaware that she was sinking into a festering swamp, chasing empty illusions.
