IPBPBD 27

Chapter 27

‘What on earth is the reason?’

He clearly remembered the two of them as being friends.

Very close friends, even—close enough to treat each other without formality.

But that was all it was, he thought.

It never looked like there was any possibility of their relationship developing further.

That was the feeling he had, and his intuition had always been sharp enough that he never doubted it.

That was why he hadn’t even paid attention.

Why he never felt the need to put anyone to watch them.

‘I was far too complacent.’

He’d been so focused on fending off pests coming from outside that he missed the one already by her side.

There hadn’t even been anyone around to get in the way—it had been a perfect opportunity.

Realizing that made his irritation surge.

Just what happened while he wasn’t there?

Not knowing the past left him unbearably frustrated.

And thinking that the man knew a time with her he himself had missed—he was consumed with jealousy.

Why him, of all people? The thought made him sick with envy.

“What’s so good about that bastard…?”

His teeth ground together with a sharp clench.

It should have been him by her side.

No one else. Only him.

And yet some undeserving fool had taken that place.

He hadn’t even had the chance to do anything for her yet—and now it felt like he’d lost even the opportunity. The rage boiled up.

Perhaps he only needed an excuse.

Something—anything—to justify hating that man.

Kirschen pulled a sketchbook from inside his coat.

It was worn and shabby from being opened countless times over the years.

Jerome had once suggested at least replacing the case, but Kirschen had flatly refused.

Because it was a gift from Emilina herself.

In its original form, it held value beyond measure.

Staring at the sketchbook, Kirschen muttered darkly:

“She promised to live with me for the rest of her life…”

A promise from childhood, spoken in passing.

Would she even remember it?

No—she wouldn’t.

Perhaps even he should have forgotten it by now.

But Kirschen had never once forgotten.

From the moment he left Emilina’s side until now, he’d carved their time together deep into his heart, treasuring each memory.

He wanted to keep that promise. He wanted to grant her wish—to let her eat meat to her heart’s content.

A faint chuckle escaped his lips.

Meat… once he returned, something like that would be nothing.

“Couldn’t you just wait a little longer…?”

He couldn’t help the regret that seeped into his voice.

It was then—

The tent flap opened, and Jerome stepped inside the command tent.

Someone followed behind him.

Kirschen immediately recognized him, even though the youthful face from his memories was gone.

To see that foolish face again in this way…

His golden eyes sank into shadow.

Rosie followed Jerome, lost in heavy thoughts.

The deputy commander’s summons had already been startling enough—now the duke himself wanted to see her?

She couldn’t begin to guess the reason. Her head ached with the effort.

Before she knew it, they’d reached the tent. She still hadn’t found any answers, and tension gripped her chest as she drew a sharp breath.

To face the duke for the first time—

As a mere knight. No, not even that—just a trainee knight. It was overwhelming.

But alongside the burden, there was also curiosity.

What kind of man was he, this duke who had become commander at such a young age and who was surrounded by endless rumors?

She wanted to see with her own eyes.

Rosie steeled her resolve and followed Jerome as he pushed the tent flap aside.

Then she froze.

A man she couldn’t quite call unfamiliar was resting his chin in his hand, staring directly at her.

Yes—he looked exactly like that little boy who had once set fire to her dreams.

‘No—that’s not just resemblance. That’s him!’

The very reason, the very cause, that had driven her to work herself to the bone for a place in the order.

Rosie unconsciously raised her hand and blurted:

“You’re that kid from back then…!”

And then realization struck.

Who she was pointing at.

Why she was here. She had been so flustered, she’d forgotten.

Her face drained of color as she hastily lowered her hand.

She swallowed hard.

‘Oh, heavens…’

The man before her—

The duke—

Was none other than that arrogant little brat.

At first glance, one might mistake him for someone else, but Rosie was certain.

Her expression collapsed into dismay.

The tent was wrapped in heavy silence, as if prearranged.

Rosie felt cold sweat bead on her skin.

Jerome, on the other hand, watched the two with intrigue.

At last, when the air had ripened, he spoke first.

“You two. Do you know each other?”

“I—I’m sorry! I didn’t recognize you at first!”

Rosie squeezed her eyes shut and bent in a hurried bow.

Her posture was taut, betraying her anxiety.

Kirschen, meanwhile, simply glared at her in silence.

Jerome narrowed his eyes, sensing something between them.

But he kept his thoughts to himself, deciding to watch and wait.

And then, Kirschen finally spoke, his words slow and heavy.

“A letter arrived from Baron Klein’s household.”

Rosie raised her head to look at him.

There was a letter in his hand.

Rosie immediately thought of Emilina.

If it came from Baron Klein’s household, then surely it was from her.

But what did that have to do with her being summoned?

Rosie tilted her head.

‘Oh. Could it be he just wants news of her?’

Now that she thought of it, the duke—no, the boy—had once stayed briefly with the Klein family.

When he suddenly left, Emilina had been terribly upset.

After that, there’d been no contact, and Rosie had forgotten all about it.

Now it seemed obvious why she’d been called.

The duke must want to know how Emilina was doing.

He had been close enough to her, after all.

And it had been years—surely he’d be curious.

Rosie drew that conclusion and looked at him almost warmly.

But his next words made her eyes fly wide.

“When did you and Lady Klein become lovers?”

The duke had reached a chilling misunderstanding.

Rosie gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Her expression said, What did I just hear?

Kirschen sneered coldly.

“If you don’t want to answer, then leave. I only asked to confirm.”

He gripped the letter tightly, glaring as if to say, Take it and be gone.

Rosie, scrambling to recover from shock, blurted in horror:

“W-wait! What are you talking about? Me—dating that wild young lady? How could you say something so dreadful—ugh!”

Mid-rant, Rosie’s lips snapped shut.

Because the duke was staring at her with a look that was anything but ordinary.

Kirschen spat in disbelief:

“Wild? Dreadful? So—you mean you’re with her despite not even liking her?”

Good lord. How had he twisted it into that?

How did he come to that conclusion?

The absurdity left Rosie dumbfounded.

But she couldn’t let it show.

The duke’s eyes gleamed with a killing intent that brooked no carelessness.

Her instincts screamed: one wrong word and you’ll be dead.

“I—I only meant to say that it’s absolutely not true. I swear it. Lady Emilina is not my type at all…!”

Rosie stammered nervously, confessing straight to him.

But Kirschen only scoffed.

Not a word of it convinced him.

He thought Rosie was desperately acting, trying not to be found out.

Otherwise, why would Emilina use that nickname—Dar…ling—for him?

Already seething, hearing her deny it only made his suppressed feelings flare.

‘Why hide it?’

He had only called Rosie to confirm.

It was foolish, but he just wanted to ask.

He hadn’t planned to do anything. If she said yes, he would accept it and let it go.

But Rosie had stubbornly denied it to the end.

And now Kirschen didn’t want to back off. The insolence was too much.

His cold gaze sharpened with a murderous edge.

Jerome, unable to watch any longer, stepped in to mediate.

“Come now, calm yourself. No need to get angry. Rosie, stop dodging and just state it plainly. He called you here because he already knows.”