After receiving clothes from Callios, the servants of the ducal estate were required to leave immediately — it was an unspoken rule.

Rosie walked calmly through the trembling servants, who were afraid of the duke.

As soon as she opened the door, she saw Callios lying in the bathtub with his eyes closed. He would usually have sensed her presence as soon as she got close, but this time he didn’t move at all.

‘No way… something really didn’t happen, right?’

Steadying her breath, Rosie slowly approached him. Even the trickle of water down to the floor felt cold.

Why, of all times, was that nightmare resurfacing now?

She saw Callios with his eyes closed, red blood flowing from him like a river, as cold as the water spilling from the tub.

Rosie’s face drained of color. Biting her lip, she inched closer.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she could almost smell the metallic tang of blood around him.

‘No.’

The moment her shoes made a soft, wet sound on the floor, Callios’s eyelids twitched. The thick muscles on the arm resting outside the tub stirred as well.

Seeing that, Rosie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

‘…Whew.’

As she stood near the bathtub, staring at him, his eyes opened slowly. A haze of drunken sleep clung to his dark irises before quickly clearing.

“Why are you here…?”

“You’ve been in the ducal estate this whole time these past few days. You told me to stay in bed remember?”

Still confused, Callios swept his wet hair back with one hand.

“Ah. Right.”

He looked at her, wondering why she had got up and started wandering around.

Ignoring this, Rosie dipped her hand into the bathwater and frowned slightly.

It was unpleasantly cold.

Why was the water like this?

“I’m genuinely curious about something.”

Rosie, who had spoken without realizing it, pressed her finger between her brows.

“Are you… in the middle of training?”

“What….”

“I heard you used to throw yourself into ice water on purpose during operations. Are you doing this to prepare for something like that?”

Callios blinked at her, looking dazed. Suddenly, his shoulders began to shake. A moment later, he started chuckling, unable to stop himself.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just… so very you.”

The way he laughed, his shoulders rising and falling, faintly overlapped with the man he used to be: the most beautiful version of himself, full of youthful hope and brilliance.

Even if it had all been a delusion of hers, those memories glimmered like rippling, sunlit waves.

Something sharp jabbed her from within, poking through her chest. Rosie turned her head away.

“Stop laughing. If you’re not training, then I’ll have them bring hot water.”

Feeling teased, she tried to turn and leave, but Callios grabbed her wrist. Although he had reached for her, he flinched and quietly let go.

“You don’t like it?”

“No. Go ahead.”

The place he had grabbed was unbearably cold. The moment his fingers touched her, it felt as if a block of ice had clamped around her wrist.

‘He needs hot water.’

Rosie hurried out and instructed the servants who were anxiously waiting with raised feet.

“The duke is perfectly fine. No need to worry. Bring the heated water.”

The servants sighed with relief as they handed her a large kettle filled with steaming water. It was heavy and she struggled under its weight, breaking into a sweat.

Avoiding looking inside, the attendants pushed the door open for her. Rosie managed to speak as she stepped inside.

“Stay still. I’ll pour it.”

The moment the door shut with a click, Callios sat bolt upright at the sight of her carrying the large kettle.

Splash!

He reached out sharply, as if he might snatch it from her.

“Give it to me. It’s heavy.”

“Can you at least sit down first?”

“Ah.”

Callios took the kettle from her with a faint laugh and poured the hot water into the tub himself. Steam rose again from the water, which had been ice-cold.

“We’ve already seen everything there is to see. Why be shy?”

He was teasing her again. Rosie pouted and quickly looked away.

“I haven’t seen you in bright light very often.”

“Get in, too! The water is the perfect temperature.’

“I’ll pass.”

“Really?”

She had expected him to insist a few more times, but Callios said nothing more on the matter. Perhaps he was trying to honor his promise never to force anything on her or act against her will again.

‘Huh?’

It was then that Rosie noticed something new. The hand submerged in the water on the opposite side of his body was pale and wrinkled with thin folds.

Seeing it made her want to laugh.

Even this terrifying man was human after all.

This thought bubbled up, and she couldn’t hold it back. The ache in her chest that had pricked her moments ago swelled and then burst warmly.

Unable to endure the ticklish feeling, she burst out laughing.

“Pfft.”

This was the same man who had once plunged the entire ducal estate into chaos. Now, he had fallen asleep in the bath and allowed the water to go cold.

His large, calloused hand was wrinkled from being in the water for too long.

This small, human side of him somehow made him seem more approachable.

Callios frowned faintly as he sat back down in the tub.

“Why are you laughing?”

Rosie covered her mouth, but she couldn’t stop laughing. She knew she really needed to stop, but once she had started laughing, it was difficult to stop.

“Your hand is all wrinkled… like a child’s.”

“Well, that’s because I was in the water for a long—”

Callios stopped mid-sentence. Then he gave a quiet laugh and suddenly pulled her closer. Rosie stumbled as her balance tipped toward the tub.

“Ah—!”

He caught her before she could fall in completely, but her dress was already mostly soaked. The light, fluttery fabric had absorbed the water easily.

He brought his wet face close to hers and whispered seductively.

“Stay here too. Let’s see if you wrinkle.”

“I said no.”

She hastily yanked the soaked dress away from her knees, water streaming down and wetting her bare feet.

Callios folded his arms in the tub, staring at her drenched figure.

“You’re already wet. What will you do now?”

“…What do you think.”

A tight tension wound its way around her body, freezing her in place. Why did she feel like she was about to hiccup?

His voice had merely shifted from teasing to slightly more serious. His pitch-black eyes had only darkened further. And yet the atmosphere around him had become dangerously intense.

Looking into her ex-husband’s relentless gaze, Rosie felt confused. It was as if he could see straight through the wet fabric clinging to her body — not just the skin underneath, but also her deepest, darkest secrets.

The thought was absurd, and yet it came.

Perhaps it was because she had recently spent such an intense night with Callios. The memory of that feverish encounter blazed through her mind, and a different kind of embarrassment — not shame — rushed over her.

Rosie covered her mouth with one hand, avoiding his gaze and staring only at the edge of the bath.

“Not here. I’ll change outside.”

“Doesn’t it feel uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.”

Callios rose from the water and lifted a large cloth from its hook, draping it over her shoulders.

“If you get any wetter, I might have trouble.”

Then he wrapped another cloth around his lower body. Water dripped down his toned torso and his dark eyes, partially obscured by his damp fringe, fixed on her.

Rosie trembled. Her body and her heart shook with some strange, unknowable feeling. It was as if she had been rebuilt to respond whenever he was close.

His hand moved slowly and carefully to touch the cloth draped over her.

“Are you really all right now?”

“Yes. I told you, I won’t live in hell anymore.”

She meant it. She had already escaped that place, and urged him to leave it too if he wanted to find himself.

Callios lowered his head and rested his forehead on her shoulder. His hand played with her loose brown curls.

“I’m getting revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“You asked me. You wanted me to.”

Rosie remembered what she had begged him for in Langnis.

If she died from her illness before a cure could be found, she had asked him to avenge her and the child.

“Then what will you do with him? He tried to escape, didn’t he?”

Pante Benedict’s punishment.

As soon as she mentioned it, Callios’s hand drifted from her hair down to her lower back.

“He kept having the ducal chef poison your meals.”

“…I see.”

“I won’t just kill him.”

“What are you planning?”

“You don’t need to know.”

Callios lifted his head sharply, adding quickly, as if afraid she might misunderstand.

“I don’t mean I’m shutting you out—”

His hand grazed her cheek in a searching, restless motion.

Rosie caught that hand and pulled it down gently.

“Maybe killing him right away would be mercy.”

“…….”

“Are you overdoing it? Because of my request?”

“That’s not it.”

Callios answered immediately and firmly.

But she knew.

He had said that he wouldn’t simply kill Pante.

She didn’t need to imagine how cruel the punishment would be.

Even so, if he had killed a member of the main family so brutally in front of all the servants, would fear truly be the only thing to take root in their hearts?

Defiance.

Once fear surpassed the limit of what a human could endure, defiance would take its place. And that seed would one day grow into something capable of shaking the entire ducal estate.

“That’s enough. Stop. If your intention is simply to kill him no matter what, then let him go now. Let him die.”

“…You mean I should at least preserve some shred of honor for him?”

“Yes.”

Pante Benedict had lost everything: his limbs, his power and all his former allies. Even the external forces that might have helped him were now hesitating, and Callios was severing all ties.

Rosie spoke again, her resolve stronger than ever.

“He can’t do anything anymore. It’s all over.”

Even after everything that had happened, Callios remained silent.

Time passed, and the room was filled only by the slow rhythm of his breathing. Then, a worn, low voice slipped through his lips.

“Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“…Why not?”

Callios’s heavy, murderous gaze dragged slowly down from her pale neck to the concave of her abdomen.

The chill of it made Rosie instinctively place her hand over her stomach. Callios’s lips curved into a cruel smile.

“Even if I finish the revenge you asked for, mine isn’t over yet.”

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