Rosie frowned as she watched the woman onstage crying her heart out.

‘She really is good.’

Sabrina appeared genuinely tormented while performing on stage. Even her tears seemed real. Her performance was impressive enough to explain how she had become so famous.

‘So this is why the noble ladies were always raving about her at social gatherings.’

The play’s theme was “The Daily Life of a Lady Who Wants a Divorce.” The wife was revealing her husband’s affairs and indifference in painful, humiliating detail. When the husband blamed his infidelity on his wife’s shortcomings, Rosie found herself frowning without realizing it.

“That’s too much…”

Annoying though it was, she couldn’t look away. So this is what a melodramatic, chaotic play looks like! Had she known how entertaining it was, she would have come more often in her past life instead of clinging so desperately to the ducal estate.

Why had she lived like that, bound so tightly to the Benedict household?

Unconsciously, Rosie clenched the small bag in her lap tighter, completely absorbed in the performance.

Then, beside her, Callios spoke in a low voice, sounding genuinely baffled.

“Why do you like things like this?”

Their seats were among the very best; far enough away from the other nobles that nobody could overhear them. From their clear vantage point overlooking the stage, Callios frowned.

“I wondered what it was that His Majesty insisted we see. But this? This is what’s popular? Absurd.”

Rosie stared at him quietly as he said it. He reacted immediately.

“What?”

“Nothing. It just… suits you, Your Grace.”

Those words held great significance. At that moment, the man on stage discovered that his lover was pregnant, causing chaos in the play.

The longer Callios watched, the more absurd his expression of boredom appeared. Eventually, he muttered something in a low, flat voice.

“Disgusting.”

He seemed to be the only pure and dignified person in the room, completely disconnected from the chaos on stage. Given how obsessed he was with honor, it made sense that he would be repulsed by something like this.

Rosie’s gaze shifted from Callios back to the stage.

Was he aware of the rumors that had followed him?

The rumor that the Duke of Benedict was desperate to leave the estate because he had another woman? And that, since he was born a b*stard anyway, no one would be surprised if he brought home an illegitimate child someday?

All those vile whispers and baseless speculations. The jealous words of others often cut deep.

Bright stage lights illuminated Sabrina and the other actors, while the rest of the theatre remained dimly lit. Against this darkness, Calio’s sharp, battle-hardened features stood out like a carved silhouette.

Sabrina shouted in anguish on stage.

“Have you ever loved me? Even once?”

Rosie felt a twisting sensation in her chest.

Perhaps it was the play. Or maybe it was loosening something soft and bruised deep inside her.

‘This man… has he ever loved me? Even once?’

It was the question she had always wondered about. It was the only thing she wanted to ask before she died.

Looking straight ahead, Rosie murmured in a languid voice.

“Five years isn’t exactly short, you know.”

Yet she had never once truly felt like she had spent that time with him. All that lay between them was…

“All that remains are people’s rumors. Nothing else.”

Callios, who hadn’t been paying much attention to the play, immediately turned toward her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. You’ll understand.”

What had happened to his sincerity? While they struggled alone, the voices of others pushed them further apart.

By clinging to duty and hard work, they lost themselves. They lost far too much.

So much so that now, there was no way back.

“…….”

“…….”

Amid the mournful music, only a cold, brittle silence hung between them.

As Act One surged towards its climax, Sabrina left the stage.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Rosie slowly rose to her feet.

“I’m going to get some air.”

The moment she carefully stood, bag in hand, Callios caught her fingertips.

“I’ll go with you. If it’s dark nearby, it could be dangerous.”

Danger? This wasn’t a blood-soaked battlefield.

Rosie shook her head expressionlessly.

“No. I’ll go alone. I won’t be long.”

She pushed his hand away firmly.

After walking a short distance, she glanced back.

Callios was sitting alone in the ornate two-seater chair reserved for honored guests. The darkness hid his face completely. She couldn’t even tell what expression he was wearing.

***

Lost in thought, Rosie eventually realised that she had wandered quite far. In fact, she had even passed the actors’ rest area on her way out.

The sound of a man shouting and a dog barking could be heard loudly from inside the actors’ tent.

‘He sounds exactly like a drunk.’

A drunkard barked like a dog and yelled just as loudly. Rosie walked past the tent, thinking about that.

A few steps further on, long tree shadows flickered across her vision.

‘Where am I?’

She came upon a small clearing surrounded by tall trees, making the place feel isolated. The eerie silence unnerved her. Rosie turned to go back, but froze.

The sharp, grating voice she had heard earlier caught her attention. It was followed by a man’s flustered stammering.

“You went all the way to the Benedict ducal estate? To see that sly fox of a woman.”

“I—I can explain! Just listen to me for a moment!”

Rosie recognized the voices. Before she could register what was happening, she was already hiding behind a tree and looking towards them.

As she had expected, Sabrina was standing with Viscount Russell.

When had they met?

‘Sabrina? The play shouldn’t be over yet. Ah, it must be a scene where the other actors take her place.’

She must have slipped out the moment she exited the stage to meet Russel before Act Two began.

‘I did think I might catch a glimpse… but I didn’t expect to actually see this.’

Rosie hid deeper in the shadows, observing them carefully.

Sabrina’s anger only sharpened.

“If you like that pathetic woman so much, fine. We’re done.”

She turned away coldly. Russel panicked, scrambling to soothe her.

“N-no, Rina! I would never—”

“Stop making excuses. From now on, you won’t ever touch me or that again.”

Russel’s face went pale as he fell to his knees. In a pitiful heap at her feet, he begged desperately.

“Rina! Please… anything but that…”

Sabrina scoffed, twisting her lips in mockery.

“What is it you can’t live without? Me, or that?”

“Both!”

In response to his frantic reply, Sabrina smiled strangely and satisfied. Glancing around, she took something small and white out of her pocket.

“Fine. I’ll be merciful. I’ll let you have it… one last time.”

“Y-yes, please!”

Sabrina forced the tiny white object down Russell’s throat. Moments later, his eyes took on a strange look, somewhere between intoxicated and feverish. Leaning close to his face, she whispered.

“From now on, you’re mine. You’ll obey the pleasure I give you.”

Rosie clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her breath.

‘Good heavens…’

It was a form of sorcery.

People feared the Romani because of their spell work. It was a forbidden technique that had once been used to cause deadly infighting and had even been banned among the Romani themselves.

Sabrina was not Romani, but it seemed she had stolen the materials for the spell.

What unfolded next was animalistic.

The two of them toppled onto a large costume chest nearby.

Clothes flew.

Sabrina hiked up her skirt as Russell panted and pawed at her like a beast.

Rosie covered her ears to block out the obscene sounds.

She couldn’t let this go unchecked.

‘I need to go back and—’

At that moment…

Tak!
Rustle!

A sudden sound echoed through the clearing.

Rosie had stepped on a fallen twig.

Even while panting in pleasure, Sabrina lifted her head with a hiss.

“Who’s there!”

Hearing her voice, Russell, who until that moment had been driven only by desire, turned around too.

His gaze met Rosie’s.

Direct. Precise.

‘Great. Caught.’

His eyes widened in stunned disbelief.

“The… Benedict… Duchess?”

“What?”

Startled, Sabrina and Russell hurried to compose themselves.

Rosie spun around and ran off.

At first, her footsteps were light and quick, like a deer’s, but this didn’t last long. Her stamina reached its limit and she was forced to stop.

“Hff… huff…”

She braced herself against a tree. Her wounded palm touched the bark, and she flinched.

“Ah—”

She had been so frantic that she had forgotten that she was putting pressure on her injured hand.

Somehow, she managed to make it back into the theatre. Steadying herself, she climbed back up to the VIP box. Act One was nearing its final scene, but her legs were still shaking.

Callios turned to look at her as she sat down beside him.

“What took you so—”

He stopped.

His gaze locked on her face, sharp and unblinking. Noticing the sheen of sweat on her forehead and her pale complexion, he frowned.

“That wasn’t a walk. Did you go exercise or something?”

“…I just… feel a little sick.”

Perhaps it was because she had just witnessed something so obscene. The sight of Sabrina and Russell’s n*ked bodies was still flickering before her eyes. The sickeningly sweet scent of night-blooming flowers lingered in the air.

Rosie hurried to pull out her handkerchief and pressed it hard over her mouth.

Seeing this, Callios rose immediately. He gripped her shoulder, his expression grave.

“If you’re that unwell, we should go to a physician.”

But Rosie heard nothing. Still covering her nose and mouth, she whispered without realizing it:

“Disgusting.”

Callios froze, turning toward her. Just then, Act One ended and the audience erupted into applause.

Waaaah—!

Amid the thunderous cheers, Callios spoke, his eyes dark.

“Who are you saying that about?”

Rosie’s mind flashed back to Ashley’s gentle face. Ashley had wanted so desperately to believe in Russell.

Scenes from the play mingled with the ugly truth she had just witnessed.

Russel had been reckless enough to come to the ducal estate in this life, too. But he was still the same in the end.

People don’t change easily.

Would Callios be any different?

Betrayal.

Happiness that slipped farther away the more she reached for it. A loveless marriage. A life on the ducal estate, bearing every burden alone. Her husband’s cold indifference. Every hurt, every wound, every moment of endurance.

A bitter taste rose with a cough. Her stomach twisted painfully.

Wiping her damp lips, Rosie looked up at him.

“Actually… there was something I was going to tell you after the play.”