Chapter 7. The Meaning of Life
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Thud. Roll roll.

A blackened potato dropped from Marienne’s startled hand and rolled towards Nigel, who stood on the wooden door panel.

His fierce eyes scanned every corner of the room.

“Duke?”

The cabin with the fire lit was acrid with smoke, and a wet dress was hanging on the back of the chair, soaking the floor.

Next to it, a chemise was brazenly spread out.

It seems she had no intention of even pretending to hide her undergarments.

She was an increasingly surprising woman.

But… was she naked?

Nigel’s fierce gaze momentarily became distant.

Even if she was wet, to be naked in an unfamiliar place? With just a sheet wrapped around?

Marienne Rose stood up from in front of the hearth. The forest keeper’s bed showed no signs of having been lain on.

As his boiling head cooled, he finally noticed the shattered door panel.

And himself, who had become the protagonist of a ridiculous farce.

“Were you looking for me? In such heavy rain?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to the forest, and when the rain got heavier… I’m sorry for entering without permission.”

“Didn’t it occur to you to return when it started raining?”

Marienne’s shoulders slumped weakly.

“You’re right. I had a place to return to.”

“Making others worry and suffer with your thoughtless actions! Do you even use that tiny head of yours to think!”

“Worry… suffer? Because of me?”

Marienne’s face, receiving the harsh rebuke, brightened strangely.

“Other people who worry about me, who could that be…”

She let out a small gasp as she looked at the drenched Nigel.

Her dull brown eyes gained a shine, and her lips curved.

Lowering her eyelids, Marienne murmured unknowingly.

“I’m happy.”

Seeing the expression so honest it was embarrassing, Nigel was rather dumbfounded.

Happy? About what exactly!

It was impossible from the start to understand this woman with normal thinking.

Being happy at someone who’s scolding and getting angry at her? Was it funny to see him barging in like a madman, soaking wet, looking for her?

“I’m sorry for making you worry, Duke.”

Nigel swallowed the words telling her to say such things to her assigned maid. Along with the truth that he was merely curious about her dejected state.

Looking at the woman shyly clutching her cloth, Nigel recalled the confession of the woman who said she had admired him for a long time.

And her pathetic vow to never like him again.

The thought flashed that he could obtain the bitter price of salvation, the spear to pierce the healer’s heart, without much effort.

Nigel threw his dripping cloak on the table. Along with his wet tunic that was stealing his body heat.

A flustered Marienne turned her head away.

“You must be cold? Come by the fire and warm up. I’ve already warmed up.”

Nigel shook his wet hair while looking at her profile, tinged with warmth.

When he finally met her eyes as she hesitantly raised them, Nigel was enveloped by an indescribable feeling. It was as if he had fallen under a spell that stole his gaze.

At that moment, there was a bright flash, and along with a terrifying thunder, the sound of wood splitting was heard.

As a lightning-struck old tree fell, barely missing the cabin, debris and dust showered down from the gabled roof.

The two frowned and coughed dryly.

Suddenly, a mouse fell from the roof.

“Ah!”

Marienne, barely swallowing her scream, shuddered and raised her shoulders.

She and the mouse, lying still in the distance, glared fiercely at each other.

As soon as the mouse, coming to its senses, scurried away to a corner, Marienne also fled hurriedly, climbing onto a chair, then onto the table.

The sheet wrapping around her like a robe became disheveled, but this was no time to worry about appearances.

She was on the verge of tears because of one mouse, or possibly many, that might be crawling somewhere.

Shivering, Marienne anxiously scanned the ceiling and floor with frightened eyes.

Nigel, who was leisurely taking off his boots, looked at the woman standing on his tunic.

It was unpleasant, but he didn’t want to provoke the woman who seemed half out of her mind.

If she started crying, this damned night would become even more dreadful.

“What should I do? Will it, will it come out again?”

“Didn’t you say you could talk to animals? I guess mice are an exception?”

“I have things I dislike too.”

“Ah, is that so.”

Marienne pouted at his sarcasm.

Nigel removed the potatoes from the hearth with a poker before they turned to charcoal.

“Seeing how you act, I thought you’d even eat mice.”

“What did you say?”

Nigel, sitting by the fire, cooled the potatoes and peeled them. He was familiar with this from often doing it at campsites on the battlefield.

The steaming potato flesh was white and fluffy, unlike its burnt skin.

It was a potato Marienne had found with difficulty after searching the cabin.

But she hadn’t even had a chance to peel it because of the Duke’s dramatic entrance, breaking down the door. Her hungry stomach, after crying and wandering in the rain, was about to growl.

Marienne swallowed her saliva and opened her mouth.

“There were many mice at the orphanage. They scratched the walls and squeaked every night. Some days they even crawled under the beds. I cried almost every day, hiding under the blanket. Even now, when I have nightmares, mice appear. Don’t you have anything like that? A fear that’s hard to overcome?”

Nigel took a bite of the potato, enjoying the woman’s fervent gaze watching him.

“Well. Perhaps a naked person staring at me, drooling?”

“Who’s naked? And that potato, I found and roasted it! So give me some too! You greedy thing!”

Nigel chuckled, his eyes wrinkling. Then he held out a peeled potato without any soot on it. A lingering smile spread across his face.

As their eyes met while she received the potato, Marienne’s cheeks reddened.

Though she seemed about to pounce on it, aware of his gaze, she only nibbled as much as bird feed.

Nigel’s face, who was about to unconsciously raise the corners of his mouth again, stiffened. And he threw the unfamiliar emotion into the flames burning the firewood.

“Ahem, ahem!”

As if the dry potato had gotten stuck in her throat, Marienne pounded her chest and coughed dryly.

It seemed she had taken quite a large bite when he wasn’t looking.

Even after gathering saliva and swallowing, hitting her chest, it wouldn’t go down easily.

As she strained, almost to the point of tears, Nigel suddenly reached out his hand.

When had he gone out and come back? His joined palms were filled with rainwater.

To Marienne, who looked up at him with tears in her eyes, Nigel said gruffly,

“Drink.”

Marienne lowered her face to his palms. As she sucked the water with her pointed lips, she unintentionally touched his rough palms.

The potato went down, but instead, embarrassment and awkwardness rose up.

Marienne quietly wiped the water that had spread on her chin, keeping her head down.

“I’ve finished drinking. Thank you.”

As Marienne raised her head, the light from the fire melted into her red hair.

Nigel grasped Marienne’s chin. His wet thumb touched her lips. Their gazes intertwined once again.

Marienne looked up at him, forgetting even to breathe.

In the few nights she spent with him… she had lost her virginity and experienced the humiliation of kneeling at his feet. They had made a contract, and she had received money.

There should have been no room for her heart to flutter or her heart to race in any of those acts, no different from those of a pr*stitute. That was how it should have been.

But why?

The nights that began humiliatingly and violently always led to passionate and tender dawns.

The kisses they shared, cupping each other’s cheeks, were so sweet it made her heart ache.

When she embraced him, as vast as a mountain, she had never been in her right mind, though it was embarrassing.

Even on the first night when her flesh was torn, she sobbed more from the long pleasure than the short pain.

Something was wrong. The beginning and end were different, the reason and result were misaligned.

What kind of person was the Duke? What did he want to do with her?

She wanted to ask, but she had a feeling that perhaps even he didn’t know the answer.

When Nigel tilted his head and approached, Marienne lowered her eyelids. Her lips were sucked, and his thick tongue filled her mouth.

It would be a lie to say she hadn’t anticipated it. It would be even more of a lie to say she hadn’t hoped for it.

To confess… she wanted it from the moment he entered the cabin.

Every time their eyes met, even her fine hairs tensed and stood on end.

It was still difficult to guess the Duke’s true feelings. It might just be a man’s capricious impulse.

But still, it was fortunate.

That she wasn’t alone on such a painful night.

That there was someone who had walked through the rain to find her.

That there was warmth to cling to, whatever the intention.

For now, that was enough.