4. Unrequited Devotion and Longing

Romeo grew even more brazen after Juliet left on her trip with Count Paris.

He took her out to walk the streets, coaxed her to leave the annex during the day and at night. Once, without a word, he’d put her on a horse and left Valher behind. They arrived at a lake so vast she could barely see its end.

“The sea isn’t much different from this. Even more so when it rains.”

He must have remembered Rosaline mentioning in passing that she wanted to see the ocean with Juliet.

The moment she saw the lake, she understood why Paris had been so eager to take Juliet to the sea. The light breaking across the water’s surface and the deep color of the lake were breathtakingly beautiful. But more than the place itself, she was grateful for Romeo—for bringing her here to show her this. Her heart felt ready to burst.

“Thank you. I’ll never forget this.”

“……Rosaline.”

His lips parted at her simple thanks. He stared at her in a daze.

“Is there anything else you want?”

“You sound ready to pluck the stars from the sky.”

“If you want them, I’ll give you a light that never goes out.”

Rosaline responded with a joke, but he was utterly serious. In the end, after some thought, she breathed out her shy wish.

“To live an ordinary life. A truly ordinary, happy one……”

“……”

“Like now……”

Their relationship could hardly be called ordinary, but Rosaline thought the ordinary happiness she’d always wanted would be something like this. Was it too trivial? His silence made her uneasy, and she looked at him carefully. Romeo pushed her into the brush and brought her down.

“I’ll make it happen for you, Rosaline.”

Something urgent drove him. He stripped off their clothes in haste, never breaking contact. Even as they coupled hastily by the lakeside where anyone might see, Rosaline didn’t refuse. His pulsing emotions seemed to infect her. Raw, heated breaths. Slow movements as he restrained his l*st to match her pace. Sweat beading at his chin from the effort. Trembling. A slow, slow release.

“You’re beautiful, Rosaline.”

She must have looked a mess, yet his touch as he stroked her like treasure was rapturous. The nameless emotion filling her heart swelled even larger than the part of him filling her body.

After that day, Romeo wasn’t satisfied just sleeping in Rosaline’s room. He stayed until morning or roamed the estate with her, playing the part of a Capulet servant.

No one ever noticed—it was always astonishing. He wore the berets the servants used, let his hair fall to his eyebrows, and when working with them, perfectly mimicked their characteristic gestures and postures. His presence died completely then. Sometimes even Rosaline couldn’t recognize him.

She trusted they wouldn’t be caught, but she couldn’t help feeling anxious whenever her mother’s venomous gaze fixed on her.

“Just think of it as a special constitution. Good training. That Tybalt or Gibalt fellow can probably do something similar to me.”

Frustrated by Rosaline’s anxiety, Romeo spoke as if confessing. He wore a brown beret from who knows where and old overalls like a young stable hand. He must have worked diligently—some soot smudged his cheek.

By contrast, Rosaline had just returned from the temple and stood in the garden in her habit, facing him.

It was an absurd scene, but the precursor to their quarrel stretched the surrounding air taut with tension.

“Besides, your mother will never recognize me. She’s never even seen me.”

“……She saw you at the ball.”

“Seeing me the size of an insect from far away? She wouldn’t even know what color my eyes are.”

He ground his teeth.

“She doesn’t seem to go anywhere near you anyway. Just stop worrying about it.”

“……I don’t like her, but she’s still my mother. How can I stop worrying completely?”

“She treats you so cruelly, yet you shield her because she’s your mother?”

How wonderful it would be if hearts obeyed will. Why else would so many children cling to parents who are cruel to them? Why can’t so many siblings let each other go despite suffering together? Rosaline smiled bitterly, then looked straight at him as déjà vu struck.

“I’ve never specifically told you about my mother, yet you speak as if you know our relationship well.”

Rosaline’s eyes narrowed. But Romeo didn’t avoid her gaze—he met it brazenly. He was always like this. Never evading, never trying to leave, like someone about to be abandoned. Pity and a sense of kinship surged up instantly, though these weren’t emotions to express right now.

“Did you spy on me? Don’t tell me you came here even before……before we became like this.”

Mother had said, “If you brazenly brought him inside and hoped no one would know, you’re an idiot.” Though Mother never went near Rosaline’s annex, she might have seen Romeo lurking around. He was human—couldn’t he make mistakes?

“……They don’t know it’s me, do they?”

“Good Lord……!!!”

Rosaline’s face flushed red and blue. He knew things were a mess with Juliet, and now he’d seen the rock bottom of her relationship with her mother too. Fresh shame washed over her.

“H-how do you think that makes me feel?”

“I know. I know very well.”

He frowned as if being strangled.

“Your mother’s no different from Juliet. Why do you act so foolishly?”

“……Don’t speak carelessly.”

“I’m stating facts.”

“Oh, really?”

Rosaline snorted.

“Someone so good at stating facts—is that why you insist I won’t get pregnant? Going on about special constitutions and such?”

“……”

“Why don’t you be honest first?”

She said this, but she assumed he took contraceptive measures separately, just as she did. No matter how focused they were on each other, neither a pregnant trainee priest nor the one who impregnated her could escape punishment.

But his constant use of “facts” as an excuse for saying inconsiderate words was truly hateful and hurtful. He had no intention of apologizing. He just kept his mouth shut, staring at her almost glaring.

“Just go. I can’t stand the sight of you.”

When Rosaline shook her head and stepped back, he grabbed her wrist. The force was fast and strong enough to make her body sway.

“……Don’t tell me to leave.”

“Go.”

She shook off his grip as quickly as he’d grabbed her. But Romeo blocked her path. When she tried to walk around him, he immediately embraced her from behind.

“Today you’re really……Romeo!”

He tried to kiss her abruptly, as if he didn’t want to hear it. When she refused even this, he pressed his lips to her neck and whispered.

“The questions you have about me—I can’t answer them easily. I’d rather cut out my tongue than speak them.”

Rough breath touched her skin. It couldn’t be, but it felt like he was crying.

“If I tear my own mouth apart, would that ease your anger?”

“……Romeo!”

At the chilling words, Rosaline finally turned around. He didn’t miss the opportunity. He held her breathlessly, pressing his lips pleadingly to her jaw and neck.

“If you’re not going to abandon me, don’t turn your back.”

Kinship and something like pity finally won. Romeo reacted sensitively to abandonment, not so different from herself.

Rosaline patted his waist as she embraced him, leaning against his broad chest. She found it amusing that she found attractive the stable’s distinctive smell clinging to him, unlike usual.

With a somewhat eased heart, Rosaline said,

“……Juliet and Mother aren’t people I can easily let go. They’ve been with me my whole life.”

“……”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“……Yes, I understand.”

A sound like scraping metal came from his throat.

“Damnably so……”

A question suddenly arose: who was the one who’d abandoned him like this? Who on earth made Romeo speak with the same eyes as Rosaline about “unrequited devotion and longing”?

Whoever it was seemed truly cruel. And she felt remarkably similar to him. When she looked at him idly, Romeo whispered and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Kiss me, Rosaline.”

Confident that the generous and sole god Kata wouldn’t be angered by the kiss of two twisted souls, Rosaline pressed her lips to his. Unrefined, rough breaths mingled. She sensed tonight would be as rough as this breath, but she didn’t avoid it.

The very brief quarrel made him even more tender. And so Rosaline grew afraid of the moment they would part.

Until contact came from the central diocese, Rosaline’s daily routine was simple. Unless something unusual happened, she rose early at dawn to go to the temple or prayed at the altar provided in the estate. In the morning she helped Juliet with her work, and if there were no other documents to handle, she went back to the temple to prepare mass with Laurence.

But after Juliet left on her trip, Juliet’s father Lord Capulet summoned her to work alongside the butler as an attendant. She’d ended up with him unexpectedly—even Rosaline hadn’t known it would turn out this way. Lord Capulet was kind, but they hadn’t been close.

Moreover, all he had her do after summoning her was keep her nearby to pour tea. He handled himself the comparison of the original ledgers and double ledgers for the ship transactions that Juliet had originally assigned to Rosaline.

Most days ended early, leaving her free by afternoon, but being in the same space was awkward and uncomfortable all the same.

“Why are you so tense?”

Lord Capulet, who’d been looking at documents for a while, spoke. Rosaline, standing like a tree behind him, tightened her grip on the teapot to keep from dropping it. How could she not be tense? What should she say? He owned one of the nation’s top trading companies. He might look gentle, but he employed hundreds.