TFR 37

chapter 37

Rosellina finished her meal after drinking two eggs and a little water. Her mouth was too raw to chew and swallow bread. If there had been some warm soup, she could have soaked it and eaten it, but eating it as it was would have been difficult.

Rosellina was accustomed to hunger. She was fortunate that she could soothe her emptiness with a soft boiled egg.

“I wonder how it turned out.”

If Rosellina’s assumptions were correct, the detox process would be easier than expected. That said, it couldn’t simply be dismissed as a coincidence. It was highly likely that someone familiar with the peculiarities of this region had orchestrated the event. That made it far more dangerous.

“I hope it’s resolved well…”

Rosellina worried less about herself getting hurt or encountering problems and more about disruptions to the entire march.

After all, she was a criminal, and the secret she had most desperately wanted to hide had practically been exposed. Dantes hated and loathed her, and she would soon receive a fitting punishment. She had no thoughts about that.

If it became the clue to solving the incident, the injured and sick could be treated quickly. If that allowed Dantes to return to the palace a little sooner, that was enough. That was all that mattered.

Before her thoughts could go further, she closed her eyes. She didn’t know when they would depart, and her body wasn’t in good condition. Even with medicine, the pain only slightly subsided, and she didn’t feel fully recovered.

“I need to recover quickly. I mustn’t be a burden any longer.”

Rosellina’s mind was entirely filled with things she, as a criminal, shouldn’t do. She mustn’t interfere with her companions. She mustn’t make excuses recklessly, nor maintain friendships with anyone.

She had to faithfully accept the punishment that would befall her as a criminal—without resentment toward anything.

“Still, I’ve gained so much. Even in a short time, I earned his trust and made a friend. I was able to help my father and brother, and grow as a knight. I’ve enjoyed too much.”

Rosellina believed that everything she had enjoyed was never truly allowed for her. Because she had indulged in desires she shouldn’t, she didn’t feel anger at her current situation. On the contrary, she could understand everyone pointing fingers at her and criticizing her.

Especially considering the sheer betrayal Dantes must have felt. No matter what punishment she received, seeking full forgiveness from him would be impossible. After all, she had deceived him first.

With that thought, Rosellina closed her eyes tighter. She had to force herself to sleep. She needed rest to recover, even a little. That was the best she could do right now.

At that moment, the warehouse door burst open roughly. The loud bang echoed sharply. Rosellina opened her eyes and stared at the source of the noise.

Dantes approached with long, purposeful strides, looking extremely angry. Seeing her curled up in the small, nest-like place, he frowned even deeper.

Those hadn’t been there yesterday. They must have been made by Gunter. That guy had been skilled at crafting such things since he was a child. And Dantes felt a sudden flare of anger, wondering why she was tucked away in such a trivial, nest-like setup.

“How dare a prisoner mess around as they please?”

Unable to suppress his unclear anger, he grabbed the small table Gunter had painstakingly made and threw it. The sturdy table shattered against the warehouse wall, and splinters flew, scraping Rosellina’s cheek.

Blood flowed from her face, now even paler than yesterday. Seeing the blood, Dantes froze for a moment. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, yet the vivid bleeding left him speechless.

Rosellina was startled too, but she didn’t entirely misunderstand Dantes’ actions. Perhaps he thought she had been insolent. She pressed a piece of cloth to her cheek to stop the bleeding and continued, lowering her gaze.

“I meant no harm. I only expressed my opinion because I felt some doubt when Sir Gunter mentioned why the march was delayed. I had no other thoughts at all.”

“…Who asked to hear that?”

Dantes grew even angrier at her composed attitude. He wanted to scold himself for not needing to resort to violence. Yet Rosellina seemed prepared to accept all his actions humbly. Whether she did so knowing it would make him feel smaller, or truly didn’t realize, was unclear.

The important thing was that all her behavior only fueled Dantes’ anger further. Even in that moment, blood ran from her cheek. Dantes turned his head, muttering curses.

Rosellina only sensed Dantes’ anger, not his true thoughts. She worried that perhaps Gunter might get caught in the crossfire.

“Sir Gunter only meant to explain why the march was delayed. It was my fault for questioning it. I apologize, Your Majesty.”

“Even now, you defend Gunter?”

“Truly. All the fault is mine. Butler Gunter said no more than necessary.”

“Enough! Stop talking about that! Who asked you about Gunter?”

“…….”

Rosellina fell silent at Dantes’ shouting. Anything she said could worsen the situation. Blood trickled from her cheek again, and this time she didn’t wipe it. She thought any hasty action would provoke him further.

Yet Dantes seemed provoked even by her inaction. Her willingness to fully accept the consequences—even the wound—felt like she was enduring not only physical pain but mental humiliation too. It was a suffocating anguish.

“Seriously….”

“…….”

“Being with you gives me a headache, and nothing gets resolved. You never speak, and all the suffering falls on me.”

“…….”

“And everyone feels pity for you.”

Dantes clenched his fist tightly. He included himself in that pity but hated it. He didn’t want anyone to know he worried about someone who had hurt him, lied, abandoned him for years, and yet offered no excuses upon reuniting.

Rosellina had no way of knowing his deep inner thoughts. All she felt was his anger.

She remained silent. Her best skill was keeping her mouth shut. Any words now would only provoke Dantes further.

“Dantes! Have you figured out what the problem is…!”

Gunter hurried into the warehouse and frowned upon seeing the blood on Rosellina’s cheek. Then he noticed the shattered table he had made and glared at Dantes.

“I’ve never treated a war prisoner like this, Dantes.”

“…….”

“Your actions are excessive.”

Gunter spoke as if he genuinely couldn’t understand. When he had tried to come here earlier, he assumed Dantes would resolve everything. But Dantes hadn’t returned quickly, and in the meantime, Monterno Aventurin had found the problematic point. Thanks to a tip from Gunter, the entire village kitchen had been inspected in no time.

Dantes was shocked by Gunter’s rare expression of displeasure. He had already disliked that the simple, nest-like bed had been made for Rosellina. Dantes scoffed and looked at her.

“See? I’m right, aren’t I? Are you going to rely on past emotions and take all my aides?”

“…….”

“Gunter, Cesario, Marco. Don’t approach any of them. Don’t utter your name, whether real or fake. You…!”

“…….”

“Just stay quiet. That’s the one thing you do well in front of me.”

Hearing Dantes’ twisted words, Gunter slightly opened his mouth. Though he had dealt with Dantes for a long time, he had never spoken so childishly. Dantes ignored the shocked Gunter and left the warehouse.

Rosellina remained silent, head bowed. Gunter watched her quietly, as if she had done something wrong, then muttered:

“It seems Dantes is addicted too.”

“…….”

Rosellina looked up, puzzled. Gunter continued:

“He’s addicted to something more vicious than a corrupted dog’s root. That’s why he’s like that.”

“…….”

“His heart is sick.”

Gunter could find no other explanation for Dantes’ behavior. Rosellina said nothing, silently watching the blood streaks spread across her clothes like tears.

“Hurry and go, Gunter.”

“…….”

“A knight never disobeys his lord.”

Gunter sighed briefly at Rosellina’s words and tossed her the ointment he always carried.

“Apply it to your wound. Even if it can’t heal the inside, it’ll take care of the skin.”

“…….”

Gunter scratched his head and left the warehouse. Rosellina had been right: a knight does not disobey his lord. And Rosellina was someone who upheld chivalry better than anyone. Gunter was not protecting his own sense of duty as a knight, but hers. How the twisted relationship between the two would unfold was beyond his brief foresight.