HST 33

Chapter 33

What? Why on earth was Eric here? Rosé froze on the spot, stiff with shock at the completely unexpected situation.

“You’re here already.”

Already…? Rosé frowned at Eric’s tone.

“I thought you’d be waiting. Pretending not to care, pretending to be bored—surely you must be tired of that by now. Especially since I’m not getting anxious the way you expect.”

What kind of nonsense was this? Seeing Eric still brushing off his behavior as a “strategy” wasn’t even shocking anymore. Eric curled his lips into a smug smirk, as if everything were obvious to him.

“You haven’t deviated from my expectations even a little.”

Standing arrogantly, Eric looked down at Rosé and then began to walk toward her at an unhurried pace. Each time he took a step forward, Rosé stepped back. Being alone with Eric in such an enclosed space was unsettling. And in this situation, no less… it was dangerous, wasn’t it? The sight of him approaching with nothing but a robe loosely draped over himself—he looked as if he might pounce on her at any moment. She swallowed dryly.

From past experience, she knew well enough: Eric was not the kind of man who would listen politely to reason.

I can’t even use my period as an excuse today…!

Rosé bit down on her lower lip and looked at Eric with anxious eyes. After all, she’d come here to bathe—an excuse like that wouldn’t work.

“I want to wash alone.”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze, but Eric paid her words no heed.

“We’ve already come this far. I don’t know what kind of act you think you’re putting on now.”

He let out a scoff, looking at her as though he were incredulous.

“I didn’t drag you here. You came of your own accord. You accepted my invitation obediently, so why start playing coy now?”

Only then did Rosé understand what Eric meant. Apparently, coming to this bathroom had been some sort of secret signal between husband and wife.

I never read anything like that in the novel.

Perhaps because she’d only read the beginning. She hadn’t known about such intimate signals between the couple. If she’d known what this bathroom meant to them, she would never have come here.

“I didn’t accept your invitation. I was distracted today, and… I just wanted to relax my tired body.”

Even in her unease, Rosé kept her voice calm.

“So… I don’t want this. Please leave.”

At the word don’t want, Eric’s brow furrowed even deeper. He couldn’t understand her—this woman who had always been nothing but obedient, now constantly avoiding his touch.

“I wonder how long you plan to keep saying things you don’t mean.”

Ignoring her words, Eric pressed on.

“Putting up a token resistance might be novel once or twice, but not anymore. You’d better stop before I grow truly sick of you.”

He rattled on at her like a warning. To think he couldn’t take “I don’t want to” at face value. Typical idiot Eric. No—why was it that saying she didn’t want something was never enough? Realizing nothing she said would get through to him, Rosé’s face grew pale.

As she edged back, Eric suddenly strode forward. Trying to avoid him, Rosé stumbled backward—

“Ah—!”

—and fell straight into the bathtub. Though the water was shallow, barely covering her knees, she slipped and landed hard, her face dipping under the water. Only the loud splash echoed through the bathroom.

“Pah!”

Rosé lifted her drenched head out of the water and gasped for breath. Eric didn’t help her up; he merely stared at her, as if savoring the sight. Rosé, soaked through, looked temptingly lush. Water droplets slid down her fair skin in a strangely provocative way. Seeing her soaked by rain before had only irritated him—but up close, she didn’t look bad at all.

No, she stirred him even more.

Droplets clung to the tips of her long lashes, falling with a soft plop each time she blinked. She was beautiful enough to make him want to kiss her immediately.

Is it because it’s been a while?

Eric grabbed Rosé by the wrist and pulled her upper body upright.

“I’ve neglected you, so today I’ll make sure to ease your resentment properly.”

If they divorced, he wouldn’t be able to hold Rosé “for a while.” So today, he should indulge her fully. Eric had no doubt that even after the divorce, Rosé would cling to him—after all, for three years in the original story, she’d done so relentlessly. She used to say, out of habit, that she couldn’t live a single day without him.

That was why Eric thought this way.

Without sparing a thought for how hurt Rosé would be after being divorced, Eric was busy satisfying his own desires. To him, Rosé was nothing more than a possession—there was no reason to consider her feelings.

He leaned in as if about to kiss her.

“I’ll make you forget everything. Just give yourself over to instinct. You love me, don’t you?”

Rosé raised one hand and blocked Eric’s mouth.

“Do you love me?”

She stared at him with eyes gone cold. She wasn’t asking because she didn’t know. One look was enough to tell—Eric didn’t love her. He treated her as nothing more than something he owned.

Eric brushed her hand aside and narrowed his eyes slightly. He was tired. She was like a foolish woman who always needed to hear that she was loved. But if he said he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t be able to hold her. Especially lately, when she hadn’t shown her usual obedience.

For the first time in three years, Eric said the words out loud.

“I want to hold you because I love you.”

He gently stroked Rosé’s face. His voice was soft, but his eyes were still cold—nothing like the gaze of a man looking at the woman he loved. He was merely a beast consumed by lust.

“How ridiculous.”

Rosé let out a hollow laugh, as if mocking him. Her cold voice filled the bathroom. She tightly grabbed the hand caressing her face. From Eric’s hand, the thick scent of perfume wafted up—another woman’s scent.

Lying about love so casually, with the fragrance of another woman still on him… It was all a lie meant only to take her body. It wasn’t even laughable.

A wave of nausea surged through her. The woman Eric had been entangled with was surely Doana. With the same hands that had caressed Doana, he was touching her; with the lips that had whispered love to Doana, he was trying to kiss her.

It was disgusting. Filthy.

Eric’s shameless deception reminded her too much of someone from her previous life.

Lee Dohyeon… you came to me just as casually every time, didn’t you?

After spending all day in bed with Gyeoru, you’d come to me without a shred of shame, whispering love with that dirty body…!

Rosé couldn’t escape her past trauma. The deeper the trust, the deeper the betrayal—and this situation was no different from back then.

Her eyes brimmed with bitterness and resentment. She swept her wet hair back and walked past Eric, not even bothering to dry herself as she headed for the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Angry that she was leaving him behind, Eric strode over and grabbed her wrist. He’d thought she’d be moved—he’d said “I love you” for the first time. Yet instead of tears of emotion, she looked at him as though he were an insect.

Rosé stared at Eric, who had forcibly turned her back around, with utterly emotionless eyes.

“Answer me. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Eric, if you’re going to cheat, you could at least try not to get caught.”

Her voice was flat, devoid of laughter. Eric flinched, then replied arrogantly.

“…Hah. Is your suspicion acting up again? We’ll talk about that later. For now, calm down and come into my arms. We still have our duties as husband and wife.”

Suspicion? How shameless, when he’d been caught red-handed before. He sighed as if weary, treating her like a jealous paranoiac.

Rosé’s expression only grew colder.

“You were just holding another woman. Don’t even think about touching me with those filthy hands.”

“…What?”

How did she know? Eric involuntarily stiffened—it was true that he’d held Doana before coming here.

“Honestly, that’s not proper conduct between spouses, is it? Don’t you think you should observe basic decency before talking about marital duties?”

She added quietly, staring at the speechless Eric.

“…Why do you cheat?”

Emotion surged up, choking her. This situation overlapped too much with the past—she couldn’t control the flood of feelings. Rosé lowered her head, fists clenched tightly.

“Am I really that lacking as a woman?”

Her thin voice trembled.

“I… I only needed you. I never wanted anything else!”

Everything she’d been suppressing burst forth as she cried out at him. In her eyes, misery and despair were tangled together. Though she was shouting at Eric, she was really projecting someone else onto him.

Before her eyes, the blurred image of Lee Dohyeon appeared—the man she resented so deeply, who had tormented her endlessly.

“With just you… I would have been happier than anyone in the world…”

Her words trailed off as she turned away weakly, her slumped shoulders looking unbearably pitiful. Eric didn’t stop her as she walked away—no, he couldn’t. Tears were streaming endlessly from her eyes.

Faced with her desperate sobbing, he could do nothing. He’d always been particularly weak to Rosé’s tears. When she cried, his mind went blank. He’d never learned how to comfort a crying woman—and had never needed to.

How foolish… why am I crying?

In Eric, she kept seeing her first love, Lee Dohyeon. She’d believed he was different from everyone else, that what they had was special. She’d never once doubted that they would be together forever.

And yet he betrayed her—with her friend of ten years.

She’d thought the pain of betrayal had dulled over time, but her chest still ached. Rosé hadn’t escaped their shadows yet.

That night, she had another nightmare—one as cruel and vivid as that terrible day.

The next morning.
Rosé sat dazed, having skipped breakfast.

I feel strangely dizzy.

Was it because she hadn’t slept? Or because she hadn’t eaten? Sitting blankly at her desk, she slapped her cheeks lightly.

“Get it together. There’s a lot to do.”

She wrote Serviat in large letters on a piece of parchment and tapped her pen.

Even before marriage, Rosé wasn’t particularly close with her parents.

She tried to recall the original story, but little came to mind about Count and Countess Serviat.

“Haa…”

A sigh escaped her. Until she could arrange a proper place to stay after the divorce, she wanted to rely on the Serviat family. Living alone as a woman was frightening.

It might seem odd to worry about staying with her parents, but Rosé had cut ties with them—so she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. The Grand Duke of Arteum had said they were worried about her, but without confirming it herself, she couldn’t be at ease.

I should ask His Grace in detail.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice as Doana burst into the room, eyeing Rosé slyly.

Did something really happen between Rosé and the Count yesterday?

The image of Eric leaving Doana alone to go bathe flickered through her mind. The head maid had said to her:

“A concubine can never replace the rightful wife.”

Enraged by those words, Doana had revealed her pregnancy—to flaunt that she, not Rosé, was the one who mattered.

“You didn’t know? I’m carrying the Count’s child. You’d better choose your side wisely.”

“And if a child is born between the Count and his wife, Doana, what do you think will happen to yours?”

The head maid, unusually emotional after Gwen’s dismissal, had belittled Doana by hinting that something was going on between Rosé and Eric.

Doana looked over the coughing Rosé with haughty eyes.

So before a child is conceived between those two, I need to drive Rosé out.

She sauntered over and sat herself on Rosé’s table.

“Rosé, I have some wonderful news I just have to tell you.”

If Eric wouldn’t drive Rosé out, she would. Picking up a pastry from the table, she took a bite without permission. Lacking energy, Rosé didn’t feel like dealing with her—she merely watched with dull eyes.

“What kind of tea is this?”

Doana tapped the teacup before her.

“Green tea. Drink it if you want.”

Rosé replied quietly without looking at her.

“Green tea? I can’t drink that anymore.”

She’d always drunk it just fine—what scheme was she up to now? Rosé slowly raised her head to look at Doana.

“I’m only drinking rooibos tea from now on.”

Calling Rosé’s maid as if she were her own servant, Doana had rooibos tea brought in.

“Are you busy? I have something important to say.”

Her uncharacteristically confident demeanor made Rosé uneasy. She set down her pen, silently signaling for her to speak.

“Come sit here. You’re too far—I can’t see your face well.”

Should I just kick her out?

Her body felt heavy, and dealing with Doana was tiresome. Planning to dismiss her, Rosé walked over slowly and sat down. Seeing her opposite, Doana smiled in satisfaction and lifted her teacup.

Before Rosé could even take a sip, Doana’s voice rang in her ears.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

Rosé’s eyes widened like a rabbit’s as she held the cup, nearly dropping it in shock. Well… no. She’d half expected this.

Startled, the hot tea sloshed and spilled. Rosé hurriedly pulled her hand away and checked it—thankfully, her hand wasn’t burned, unlike in her previous life.

It was a familiar situation. She’d had this exact conversation before—with Doana. No, with Gyeoru, rather.

Rubbing the back of her pale hand, Rosé looked at Doana—wearing a relaxed smile, so unlike the day she’d wept in misery.