“…What did you just say?”

“Let’s sleep together.”

The trembling in his voice came from sheer disbelief—And yet, her reply was far too calm. 

Irynsis had expected this reaction from Cassion. She knew his childhood had been just as twisted as hers. But there was no other choice.

‘Her divine power had always been stronger with physical contact, not just proximity.’

She wasn’t sure if it would be the same with him—if sharing a bed would truly amplify it—But at the very least, she’d be able to heal him.

She couldn’t make him drink her blood. So in terms of efficiency, he had to take her into his arms.

It was the most likely hypothesis she had after countless lives and endless trials. All that remained was to prove it.

“Hey.”

Cassion called out, displeased by the woman who dared to throw such a bombshell right in his face, only to then drift off in thought.

Startled back to the present, Irynsis gave a small shiver. Her gaze, unwavering, met his.

“Even if I’m not your type it can’t be helped.”

“…Do you think this is about preference?”

“Just as you can’t live doing only what you want, you can’t sleep with only the women you want.”

“This is insane.”

She was impossible to talk to.

And yet, Irynsis felt just as frustrated. If she did nothing, time would pass meaninglessly again—just like in her last life.

“If you really hate it, then I’ll prove my power first. Sit down.”

Thinking it would be better to show her power clearly and secure an alliance first, Irynsis pressed him. Cassion’s expression twisted.

“You don’t seriously mean here, do you?”

He had no intention of sleeping with her—Let alone in the middle of a party, out on the terrace surrounded by people.

Irynsis, who had only meant to let him feel a brief effect of her healing, tilted her head. But as soon as she understood his implication, she snapped back.

“Are you seriously a pervert?”

“You’re one to talk.”

It was almost impressive how shamelessly she could accuse someone of that.

“I’m not about to roll around with you out here.”

“Same. What do you think of me, some animal in heat?”

“So, if we were in an enclosed space, you would roll around with me?”

“Haa….”

She had a knack for leaving him speechless. And yet, he couldn’t just walk away.

After a moment’s hesitation, he finally gave in and sat down on the ground as Irynsis had instructed.

“Stay still. We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?”

“I caused a bit of a scene trying to escape, you see.”

Cassion muttered irritably as Irynsis, without hesitation, climbed onto his lap where he sat leaning against a tree.

“So, who’s the real pervert here?”

Come to think of it, he still didn’t even know her name.

“What’s your name?”

At that, Irynsis froze.

“…Why are you so obsessed with names?”

“When did I ever obsess over names?”

Irynsis pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

There was nothing she could say—It wasn’t this Cassion, but the one from a previous life she was thinking of.

After a moment of silence, she lifted her head and met his eyes.

“Irynsis Renate.”

Not Irynsis Cambria, the name carelessly declared by Marquis Jarvis—But the name her parents had given her. 

A name that, even across all her lives, had rarely been spoken aloud.

“That’s a good name, Irynsis.”

Cassion smiled.

The shared cigar was crushed into the dirt. The neatly tied cravat now rolled carelessly over it.

Pale, slender hands reached for the taut muscles beneath his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one.

“Haa.”

Cassion let out a long sigh, unsure if any of this made sense.

“Hey, my lady marchioness—Don’t you think you’re being a bit too forward?”

His voice carried a teasing lilt, mismatched with the formal title. That contradiction made Irynsis pause, her fingers halting on his chest.

Her blue eyes, which had shown interest only in his skin until now, slowly lifted. A sharp glint flickered within them—A blade of emotion baring its fangs at the man before her.

“Don’t give me that ‘my lady’ bullshit.”

Her red lips released a voice colder than ice.

Cassion let out a quiet chuckle.

This woman, taken in by the Marquis of Cambria, loathed that illustrious household with every fiber of her being.

“I told you to stay still.”

Irynsis, perched on Cassion’s lap, furrowed her brows as she tried to steady him, annoyed by his constant shifting.

To any onlooker, it would seem that Duke Cassion Pathsbender had finally shed his monk-like lifestyle and succumbed to the pleasures of the world. There had been endless bizarre rumors clinging to his unnaturally clean private life—That he was impotent, perhaps, or preferred men, or simply incapable of living up to that handsome face of his.

Honestly, considering all that, part of him wished someone would see them.

‘If not for the state they were currently in.’

With no patience to make it to a proper room, he’d leaned back against a massive tree and hastily pulled her into his lap. It was a messy, almost vulgar scene.

Cassion’s gaze followed Irynsis’s movements, watching as she busied herself above him.

Her face was still as pale as when they’d first met. Though her upturned eyes had softened slightly, the sharpness in them had yet to fade entirely.

At first, he thought she was a woman cloaked only in black and white—except for those piercing blue eyes. But her lips were red.

His gaze, tracing the shadows cast by her lashes, dropped to the pale curve of her neck and shoulder.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Cassion tugged his coat back into place when it began to slip off—but it was hopeless. It was far too large for Irynsis.

Late autumn winds had begun to carry the chill of winter, creeping into the air.

Come to think of it, hadn’t she been told she must wear that white garment year–round?

“Does that matter right now?” 

Her mind raced—time was slipping away—yet her patient remained wholly uncooperative.

She’d been this way in her previous life, too. The memory of that failure stoked her anger at his stubbornness.

Even if he wasn’t to her taste, he could’ve simply swallowed the remedy without complaint. Instead, his refusal slowed her treatment and jeopardized everything.

“What kind of ridiculous garment has all these buttons?”

Her wounded limbs were still stiff, making every small movement—like undoing a single button—a struggle in itself. And now, burdened by old resentments, her irritation flared further.

“What’s so urgent, anyway?”

“You think I have the freedom to go wherever I want?”

“Ah.”

He had a point. Even the first time they met, she’d been dragged off the moment she stepped out of the carriage.

“Why didn’t you run away that day?”

“Do you not want to be treated?”

Irynsis glared at Cassion as she undid about half the buttons on his shirt.

“I’ll do it.”

She couldn’t stand watching her fumble any longer. She’d been struggling with those buttons for a while now, and it was clear she could barely manage it.

He wasn’t sure what kind of treatment she planned to administer with hands that couldn’t even get a shirt open.

The visible wounds had faded, but the damage beneath still ran deep.

His eyes dropped to the buttons slipping open, not with lewd intent but something closer to obsession.

“Good to know.”

“I’d be offended if you called this body of mine just ‘good enough,’ you know.”

He teased, but Irynsis didn’t even seem to hear him.

She pushed aside the finely sculpted muscles that might’ve drawn admiration from anyone else—Her gaze was fixed on only one spot.

All she could see was the spreading blotch of plague forming near Cassion’s heart.

‘It’s not as bad as I feared.’

She was glad she’d come to him right after returning.

Though she wouldn’t know for sure until she started, it was clear the mark was smaller than when she first treated him in her previous life.

“This is going to hurt a bit.”

He always grimaced and groaned during treatment. It looked painful—painful enough that she always wanted to ease it somehow. But Irynsis had never been good at that.

“But the effects will be strong…”

“Then hurry up and start.”

Unlike her boldness when tearing open his collar, she hesitated now that the moment had come.

He hadn’t drunk her blood, so he wouldn’t lose control—And not once had Cassion ever hurt her.

But no matter how many lives she lived, the trauma remained.

Irynsis quietly closed her eyes.

Beneath her hand, she could feel the thump of Cassion’s heartbeat—Loud, fierce, and resonant.

As she focused in time with the sound of his heartbeat, something appeared—something she could see even with her eyes closed.

‘Ah.’

It was Cassion’s heart.

Though this life’s meeting came earlier than in the last, the black blotch on his heart was darker and more widespread than it appeared on the surface.

No wonder she hadn’t been able to cure him completely in the previous life, even after staying by his side for three full years, pouring divine power into him until her last breath.

A bitter taste rose in her mouth.

Still, she had five years left now. That alone offered more hope than before.

As Irynsis summoned her power, a halo of light stirred around her body. The sacred white glow flowed into Cassion’s heart—and then seeped into the stain.

The blotch, which had slowly been devouring his heart, began to shudder.

Her hand resting over his chest grew searing hot, as if it had been plunged into boiling water.

“Ugh.”

Cassion, who had been dazed by the return of that white light, suddenly clenched his eyes shut with a groan as sharp pain tore through him.

It felt like he was being stabbed.

The place where her hand touched burned, as if being branded.

“It’s only because it’s the first time.”

Irynsis spoke as if she knew exactly what he was feeling, her voice trying to soothe him. But even she was beginning to strain—a light sheen of sweat forming on her forehead.

The divine power that had fulfilled its task began to slowly fade.

Just as Irynsis was gauging how much the plague blotch had receded—a surge of black energy suddenly shot up and yanked her toward him with violent force.

Startled, her eyes flew open.

“Mmph!”

Their lips collided.