If it hurt him that much, he could just look away. But if he couldn’t even do that, then he must have felt completely powerless.

She knew that feeling well.

Rosie steadied herself and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. She took a quiet breath, straightening her posture and clearing her mind.

“Pante Benedict was seen meeting a woman with a very unusual scent.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Apparently her presence felt above that of most nobles. Keep it in mind. They said she wore perfume that smelled like vanilla mixed with rum.”

“Enough.”

“Listening to Ide, I started thinking she might even be a noble from another country. If so, this could escalate. She wore a long purple veil and—”

“I told you to rest!”

Callios’s voice snapped, sharp enough to make Rosie flinch. Realizing it, he bit his lip hard.

“……”

“……”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them—heavy, suffocating.

At last, Rosie broke it.

“I didn’t come back here to rest.”

“…Then why?”

“I came back to set everything right. Isn’t that why you sent me back? You. You’re the one who turned time back for me.”

“That’s not—”

Callios closed his mouth as if struck.

It hadn’t been God, nor destiny. It had been Callios who brought her back. That truth had shaken Rosie more than anything else.

“You sent me to live my second life without regrets. This is my choice.”

Callios shook his head, hands clenching into fists.

“What if you push yourself too hard and it can’t be undone?”

“Then… that’s just how it is.”

“You call that an answer?”

He was genuinely upset, which made her laugh. She loved how he panicked over every detail of her life, and that he was never indifferent to anything about her.

Yes. It was time to be honest.

Having known Callios all her life, Rosie had one clear understanding: it was impossible to truly hate him.

Even in the moments when she despised him the most, another emotion lay beneath.

Accepting that truth was what she hated the most.

“Coming back… getting to know you again… and realizing how much of a mess I was.”

“…What?”

“I think that alone was enough.”

Callios stood there, looking utterly unsure of what to do with her words. For once, the man who always knew everything, who always spoke without hesitation, was full of doubt.

Then, as if the idea were absurd, he let out a bitter laugh.

“The one who was a mess was me, not you.”

Was that meant to comfort her? Or was it his own self-despair slipping out?

Either way, it pierced her.

Rosie slowly pulled her knees up onto the bed. Hugging them close, resting her chin on them, she murmured.

“You know… back then, I really thought I was somehow fine. But…”

She buried half her face in her knees, a crooked, bitter smile tugging at her lips.

“I wasn’t fine at all.”

She hadn’t even grasped the simplest truth: that by protecting herself, she was also protecting those who loved her.

She believed that hurting herself for the sake of what he valued made her noble. She thought that keeping quiet would make everything easier.

How foolish she had been!

It was the people she treasured who bore the burden of her decisions day after day. Their pain only grew deeper, pushing them towards endless suffering and despair.

Rosie’s fingers tightened around the bedsheet as an old memory rose to the surface.

“When my sister came that day… she was crying at dawn.”

“……”

“She kept crying while watching me pretend to sleep. And yet the next morning she acted as if nothing had happened. It was almost laughable.”

Serena apologized repeatedly to her sleeping sister, saying she was sorry she hadn’t been there when Rosie needed her.

The thought of her family hurting in silence made Rosie’s heart ache.

She wanted Callios to know that, too.

Still leaning her cheek against her knees, she turned her head towards the window where he stood. Her eyes curved faintly into a smile.

“I’m really fine now. You don’t have to panic over every little thing.”

The venom of her old resentment had long since faded, leaving behind an unwavering, quiet resolve.

She remembered being a small, fragile girl who would shout louder than anyone when someone she loved was treated unfairly.

She recalled the day she witnessed the noble boys mocking Callios during training, and how she had screamed herself hoarse in his defense.

That was when Rosie Moavis shone the brightest.

That was when her fiancé loved her the most.

Now, that same fire was returning to the Rosie standing before him.

Callios sensed it instantly — he always did. His gaze trembled, shaken to the core.

“So you should come out of that hell too, Rio. I’ve already left it.”

“…You’re not saying…”

“There’s no ‘me’ in that place anymore.”

Her eyes said it all: ‘If you want to find me, look for me here. Stop searching in the wrong places.’

Callios stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. Then he walked towards the bed in slow, almost disbelieving steps.

Sitting down beside her, he brushed the hair away from her eyes. He leaned in, lowering his forehead to hers. Where their foreheads touched, it burned, hot and trembling.

He whispered.

“Really…? You’re saying it’s really all right?”

Rosie gave the slightest nod. His breath drew closer, his nose brushing hers, their lips nearly touching—

Knock, knock.

Rosie’s shoulders jerked violently. Callios, who had already sensed someone outside, remained motionless. He simply kept his eyes fixed on her.

When there was no answer, the knocking sounded again.

“Sister. It’s me — Ashley.”

“Ah. Yes. Come in.”

Rosie hurriedly pushed Callios away. He moved easily, though the lingering heat of his body remained on her palms, making her even more flustered.

Ashley hesitated in the doorway, and Rosie smiled gently at her as she edged inside.

“Long time no see, my dear.”

“They said you were at the ducal estate, so I came right away. They said you weren’t feeling well. How are you?”

At that, Rosie instinctively looked towards Callios. He shook his head; he hadn’t told Ashley anything about her illness. It seemed that the letter Rosie had left behind hadn’t reached her either.

With a sigh of displeasure, he rose from his seat.

“You must have a lot to talk about. Take your time.”

The tender atmosphere that had filled the room vanished instantly. Yet Rosie couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand on her shoulder as he left, or how her neck and ears had flushed red like the garden’s crimson flowers.

She watched him quietly until his hand disappeared from view.

Ashley blinked and glanced towards the door, puzzled.

“Sister?”

“Ah. I’ve just… been sick. You know it flares up sometimes. It’s nothing serious.”

“Back then Mother intervened, so…”

Ashley winced at bringing up that painful past and quickly shut her mouth, forcing herself to change the subject.

“Brother worried about you so much. And…”

She trailed off, glancing at Rosie anxiously.

“He really struggled while you were gone. To the point it was painful to watch.”

“…Did he?”

“Yes. When I went into his room, it was just bottles everywhere. I kept worrying he’d collapse first, but you were the one who collapsed before he did…”

What followed was a string of reports about Callios that could only be described as disastrous.

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw Brother with a beard. He always kept himself immaculate.”

Hearing that, Rosie recalled the words he’d spoken earlier:

“I wasn’t the one who was fine. The one who was a mess was me, not you.”

‘It was true.’

‘A beard, huh… might not look bad.’

She was lost in thought until Ashley’s next words brought her back to the present moment.

“By the way… the rumor. Is it true?”

“No. It’s not about me. It’s about someone else at the count’s estate.”

Ashley’s fleeting expression made Rosie let out a soft laugh.

“Why do you look disappointed?”

“I just thought… My brother hasn’t forgotten you, and my sister hasn’t completely forgotten him either. Now that the witch is gone and my awful older brother is locked up, I was wondering if the two of you could get back together again.”

Ashley’s round eyes practically rolled like marbles.

“I guess I got carried away by my own fantasies. Sorry, Sister.”

“It’s fine. You’re allowed to think whatever you want.”

Rosie’s firm tone made Ashley shrink a little, fiddling nervously with her fingers.

“I even told myself I should help you if you were pregnant. I started looking at baby clothes, and before I realized it… I’d already bought some.”

She lamented that she’d bought enough baby items to fill an entire corner of her room.

“Brother and Sister’s child… how adorable would that be?”

Those bright, intelligent eyes, staring up at her, warmed Rosie to her core. Ashley was the first person Rosie had saved after returning to life. Now, Ashley was the person who gave her the greatest peace.

“I’m just glad you bought them.”

Rosie said with a faint smile.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Don’t mind it.”

If saving someone earned her even the slightest bit of virtue before her death, then perhaps she had achieved something worthwhile. That was what she once believed.

But now she understood it differently.

Saving them had meant saving herself. Because of that, good people had stayed by her side. And that alone was something for which she could be grateful.

“You two… haven’t made up yet, right? Well, he should apologize first before anything else but…”

“The duke already apologized. Many times.”

And regretted it deeply.

Ashley’s innocent black eyes widened until they were perfectly round, her shock unfiltered.

“H-he did? That stone-faced brother of mine? Seriously?”

“Of course.”

Even now, there were moments when she still couldn’t quite get used to the sorry he offered her.

“…But accepting him is your choice, so I’ll stay quiet and wait.”

Ashley gently took Rosie’s hand in both of hers. Then she bowed her head, resting it lightly over Rosie’s hand.

“I really care about you, Sister. I think about it every day… wishing you would come back to this house.”

‘I’m always waiting.’

Ashley’s shy, warm voice settled softly into Rosie’s chest, and before she realized it, the words slipped out of her.

“Would you really like that?”

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