TFR 28

chapter 28

Dantes couldn’t believe the words of the woman in front of him. He had only met her briefly. He had known Roberto for a much longer time. So surely, he should know Roberto better than she did. There was no way he hadn’t noticed his gender over such a long period.

Yet, in a corner of his mind, a creeping thought began to take root: what if he was wrong?

It was impossible to believe he hadn’t realized this all along. But if… what if… Dantes spoke as if to cut off his own suspicion.

“This is impossible.”

“Huh?”

“He’s a man. You’ve misunderstood something badly. You must be mistaken. There’s no doubt about it.”

Dantes repeated this insistently, as if it were impossible for him to be wrong. But… what if he had simply failed to notice?

Dantes had never seen Roberto completely unclothed. He was diligent and always woke up first to wash alone, and stayed last for training.

During the two years they had been together, they had never gone swimming once. Roberto hated water. He said it was because he had nearly drowned as a child. Dantes and his friends had understood as they watched him pale at the river and made sure no mischievous friends could drag him to the water.

He also disliked bare-handed sparring and didn’t like men physically bumping into each other. They thought it was due to his timid nature and mild germophobia. Cesario disliked those things too, so it hadn’t seemed strange.

But what if all of that was because he was a woman…?

The doctor’s wife furrowed her brows as she looked at Dantes’ confused expression. Then, in an uncertain voice, she continued.

“It seems we’ve misunderstood. Upon examination, there’s no other conclusion but that he is female. I apologize.”

She wiped her forehead with a small handkerchief. Dantes didn’t think she was right, but seeing his anger, she simply played along. Unfortunately, no sound reached Dantes’ ears.

His emotions leapt uncontrollably. He clenched and unclenched his fists, tormented by his unrestrained feelings. He denied it constantly, yet the time he had spent with Roberto only fed his suspicion.

Dantes took the wisteria basket from the wife and looked inside. A pink handkerchief, gloves, a small sun hat for women, unknown objects in a yellow pouch, and a few small medicine bottles.

It was like peering into the dainty bag of some young lady. Items Roberto had no apparent need for.

Dantes barely restrained the urge to destroy everything before him and stormed into Roberto’s room. He flung open the door without knocking.

“Roberto!”

Dantes shouted like a roar, but then fell silent. What he saw before him left him speechless.

Under the moonlight pouring through the large window, there was Roberto Brida’s bare back, a sight he had never seen before.

Roberto’s back, usually protected, was scarred. But more than the scars, Dantes’ eyes were drawn to his waistline. From chest to waist to hips, a soft curve flowed—a suppleness difficult to see in a man.

Moreover, Rosellina, startled by Dantes’ sudden entrance, was covering her chest.

A man covering his chest? There were none. Not in all the time Dantes had known him. Trembling, Dantes clenched his hands and spoke.

“What am I… looking at?”

Rosellina didn’t answer. Between her thin arms, the small, soft flesh pressed down—a chest not resembling a man’s. She tried to hide, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Her curvy waist disappeared beneath the hair, yet her femininity seemed only emphasized.

Roberto’s body seemed to shine under the moonlight, as if reborn a woman. It felt unreal, like a dream he had once wished for. Yet Dantes was far from happy.

Everything in this room felt like a lie.

He had often imagined how wonderful it would be if Roberto were a woman. If he could accept him as his partner, regardless of family, status, or anything else.

But after indulging in such vain fantasies, his chest would ache as though pierced.

As if he had committed a sin.

And now, it was happening before his eyes, as if denying all the thoughts and time Dantes had devoted so far.

“You…”

“…”

“What the hell? Who are you really? You…”

“…”

“Who are you?”

Dantes’ voice was a mess. He glared at Rosellina, full of confusion.

But Rosellina said nothing.

Marco hummed to himself as he walked down the empty corridor. It was early morning. Marco wasn’t as rigid as Cesario. He mingled with knights regardless of rank and boosted the morale of the expedition with drinks all night.

The repeated deaths of comrades and Port’s betrayal had depressed the entire expedition. They struggled, confessing their true feelings. Of course, some senior knights maintained a stoic demeanor. Marco didn’t mind and kept the atmosphere lively.

“Betrayal is painful, but this expedition is finally ending. Terzes and the others have been crushed, and there won’t be war for a while. Let’s all relax and think only of returning to our beloved families! Once back at the palace, I, Marco Griffin, will host a grand party. Only the beautiful young ladies are invited, so all poor unpaired souls, take note!”

Marco’s parties in Senreita were the social event of the season. He was famous for loving women—but not for lecherous reasons. He simply enjoyed the romance and atmosphere.

Coupled with his polished manners, fun personality, handsome face, and immense wealth, he had everything a noblewoman could want. His parties were always a success.

For knights used to goblins or enemies, it was delightful news. Marco ensured no one got too drunk, ending the evening appropriately. Gunter was perfectly prepared to leave, so there was no concern.

“Finally going back. Ugh, how tiresome.”

Marco shrugged. Even in a noble provincial household, the bed he slept in was terrible. His whole body ached.

“Good morning.”

Marco opened the door cheerfully. Yet Dantes’ study was as silent as if doused with cold water.

“What’s with the mood so early? Did Roberto run away?”

Marco glanced at Cesario’s expression and lightly tapped Gunter’s shoulder. Gunter also looked grim. He bit into an apple on the table, waiting for someone to speak.

“Could he really have run off?”

“Maybe it would have been better that way.”

“What are you talking about? Speak clearly.”

At Cesario’s words, Marco frowned. Finally, Gunter spoke, scratching his head in confusion.

“They say… Roberto’s a woman.”

“Huh?”

Marco asked, incredulous. Gunter continued, as if confirming his own confusion.

“I don’t know either. I heard it from Cesario. Dantes said it in agony—she’s a woman. But thinking about it, none of us ever saw Roberto’s private parts.”

“That makes no sense. Roberto can’t be a woman. Even if you didn’t notice, I certainly would have.”

“Exactly. Even Marco was fooled. Roberto’s amazing, really.”

Cesario spoke calmly. Marco’s eyes widened.

“Eh? Really?”

“Lower your voice, Dantes might hear.”

“Where is Dantes?”

“In the Duke of Aventurine’s study. He needs to think alone. Don’t touch him—he’s in a terrible state.”

“Got it. I’ll give him space. Come to think of it, he had germophobia, didn’t even share the toilet. Now it makes sense, but we never suspected! Who joins the royal knights if they’re a woman?”

Marco muttered, half to himself. He paused, then looked at Cesario.

“So?”

“So what?” Cesario asked.

Marco grinned mischievously.

“So, what now? It’s shocking that she’s a woman, but does it change anything? Will it just add to Roberto Brida’s royal insult? What will our Dantes decide?”

“Marco. Are you really concerned about that now? The important thing is she deceived us all. Not just Dantes, but us too!”

“I’m shocked too, but think about it. She had no choice. Women weren’t recruited anyway. Her family was ridiculously poor. How could she earn money? She was too young for the brothel anyway.”

“….”

At the word “brothel,” Cesario spun around sharply.

“Watch your tongue, Marco.”

“Come on. Who said Roberto was a prostitute? She chose a way to earn money without wandering such places. Shouldn’t we praise her? Why all the fuss?”

“At least she should have told us. Or Dantes, if not us.”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

Marco looked baffled by their reactions. He knew better than anyone the treatment women received in Delion. He had been close to them and cared for them, so he understood.

The stronger the family, the greater the burdens women bore. Marco comforted and loved them, gaining empathy naturally. When they first met, Rosellina was only thirteen or fourteen. A stubborn, skinny girl would have had no opportunities to work.

“If Roberto annoys me enough, the only solution is to kill her.”

Marco suggested an extreme solution. Cesario criticized him.

“Why do you always say things that would make Dantes hit you if he heard?”

“Because Dantes acts like a fool.”

Cesario sighed. Marco smirked and continued.

“Isn’t it simpler if she’s a woman?”

“Do you think it’s that simple?”

“What’s the hard part?”

Marco frowned as if complexity disgusted him, then took another bite of his apple.

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Gunter spoke seriously, and Marco snorted. Everything rested in Dantes’ hands.