Rosie was utterly stunned. She lifted her hand from Ide’s shoulder and rose to her feet. Callios saw this and his cold, ruthless eyes narrowed sharply.

Rosie stepped in front of the courageous servant, blocking him, and answered with steady composure.

“What kind of barbaric behavior is this? You should at least knock.”

“I just did.”

Hammering on the door as if trying to break it down was not what anyone would call knocking. Rosie shot him a silent look of reproach.

Callios glanced between the trembling servant on the ground and Rosie’s calm face, then spoke as if spitting out each word.

“I’ve lived my whole life thinking only about whether I live or die. Doesn’t this suit me better?”

“Keep your dignity. Someone is watching.”

“Someone? You mean that thing.”

With a cruel gaze that seemed to suggest he wanted to cut him down there and then, Callios looked at Ide, whose forehead was still pressed to the floor.

Beneath his heavily shadowed eyes and sharp nose, Callios’s lips pulled into a crooked line.

Grinding his teeth, he muttered something under his breath.

“I had business with him, too. I didn’t expect you to reach him first.”

He must also have believed Ide would tell the truth. He always had sharp instincts for matters like this.

‘But I silenced him first.’

Rosie amused herself inwardly as she opened her mouth again despite the cutting murderous aura in the air.

“It was just a matter of timing.”

“You were shielding him the last time, too.”

He was referring to the time they had broken into Isabella’s t*rture chamber together.

Callios curled his lips into a mocking smile.

“When I heard you called him to your room alone today, I assumed you finally meant to do as you pleased.”

Rosie frowned. She knew exactly where his thoughts were heading: low, vulgar and infuriatingly predictable.

“Don’t tell me…You slept with him while I was gone?”

The very thing she had feared slipped from his lips.

Rosie’s light brown eyes widened.

What had he just said?

Callios mocked her, his barely contained rage shimmering with cold contempt.

“So this is how you prepare for a divorce.”

Rosie felt a blaze of anger behind her eyes at that sneer. Did he really think she was having an affair with Isabella’s servant? Here, on the ducal estate? How corrupt and vulgar did he think she was?

Her face flushed crimson, a scorching pain surging through her body as her anger grew.

Losing all restraint, Rosie stepped right up to Callios and swung.

Smack!

A sharp, cracking sound rang through the room.

Callios didn’t flinch at all. Despite having clearly seen it coming, he didn’t avoid it. He only lifted his pitch-black eyes slightly, as if surprised.

Her voice trembled with outrage as she forced the words out.

“How could you say something like that…!”

He stood there, mouth agape, stunned by what he had just seen. Then, as if he had suddenly woken up, he dropped to the floor and pressed his forehead down again.

Callios remained silent for a moment, then curled his lip in a cold, disdainful manner.

“Are you in your right mind?”

“You’re the one who’s lost his mind. Look properly.”

Meeting his murderous expression head-on, Rosie pointed a finger into the room.

“Check with that brilliant judgment of yours.”

Callios raised his gaze and scanned the room again. Now that he was no longer blinded by anger, he took in the scene before him: the servant’s immaculately pressed uniform and Rosie’s spotless appearance.

His cold eyes moved between the two of them.

The plain, composed atmosphere between them… The startled look on their faces when he burst in… It wasn’t suggestive in any way. They had simply been shocked by the Duke of Benedict’s sudden intrusion.

Callios’s dark brows twitched. Even he realized, too late, that he had made a mistake.

“…Hah.”

That short exhale carried far too much weight.

Its weight doused her like a bucket of cold water.

Rosie jumped, looking down at the burning mark on her palm and rubbing it with the back of her hand.

‘What have I done?’

She stared blankly at him. His cheek was smooth and uninjured; not even the faintest hint of redness was visible. Had she not known that she had hit him, she might not have noticed it at all.

This was the first time she had ever confronted Callios like this. Even after returning to the past, she had never imagined doing such a thing.

‘Am I losing my mind…?’

Her trembling hand gripped the other one tightly.

She was overwhelmed by shock and fear at the realization that she had raised her hand against Callios.

Had she really done that? Had she always been capable of such a thing?

Her heart was pounding so violently that it felt as though it might burst. The blood rushed through her veins so quickly that she felt dizzy and almost fainted.

Fearing that Callios might kill Ide in retaliation, Rosie spoke first.

“You may go now.”

“Yes, my lady.”

As Ide hesitated, preparing to withdraw, Callios cut him off.

“No. Answer what I asked.”

He brushed past Rosie and slammed the scabbard down beside Ide’s head.

Thud.

As Ide tried to lift his head instinctively, Callios pressed a boot down on it, pinning him to the floor.

His voice dropped to an icy growl.

“That day. What happened?”

“Th–that day…? Which—ugh!”

The pressure on his skull increased. He trembled under its weight, while Callios’s savage gaze bore into him.

“The day you and my wife smashed my mother’s private room.”

“….”

“Was there something else? Something serious enough to justify destroying it.”

Rosie shivered. She knew exactly what Callios was trying to uncover.

He was digging for the truth about everything she had endured at the Benedict estate. Would he discover every shameful detail?

Nevertheless, she was determined to keep her secret safe.

“M–my lady was merely… fixing what the madam had created, to discipline—”

Callios’s boot ground harder into his skull.

“I’ve heard that already. I’m asking if anything else happened. Are you too stupid to understand?”

“I–I’m sorry, my lord! Truly! There was nothing else!”

“Can you swear on your family’s lives?”

Ide swallowed hard, trembling.

“Y–yes! I swear!”

Callios stared down at him for a long, deadly moment before finally lifting his foot.

“This won’t be the end of it.”

“…What do you mean now…?”

“It means I intend to find out exactly why you’re doing this.”

His pitch-black eyes darkened as though ink had been spilled across water.

He meant it.

Rosie let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Five years have passed. Now you want answers?”

Her heart had already left him. Nothing would change.

‘For everyone’s sake, it’s better to end this here.’

Even if she walked away, the duke of Benedict would still be Callios.

Isabella and Pante would remain untouched. And if conflict broke out, who would suffer most?

‘This has made it clear.’

The innocent, the powerless servants, would be caught in the crossfire. The thought scraped painfully against her conscience.

She didn’t want that. All she wanted was a slight change — just enough wind to bring about change. Not a bloody storm that would drown the estate.

The sub-steward’s death was only the beginning. More innocents would follow. But Callios clearly thought differently.

“There’s no wrong time to correct something.”

“Even if I don’t want it?”

She replied coldly, not to him, but to Ide, who had groaned beneath Callios’s heel only moments earlier.

“Honestly… you’re always the same, my lord. Selfish. Doing everything your way.”

“…….”

“You never ask what I think. You never follow it. Not once.”

Rosie watched Callios carefully as she spoke. If Callios acted, blood would be spilled. Small issues would escalate into something bigger, and those within the estate who were weak would be destroyed.

‘This place… whatever happens, it’s no longer my concern.’

However, she refused to stand by and watch innocent people die while she was still alive.

She moved towards Ide, who stepped aside, looking displeased.

Rosie looked down at the trembling servant and spoke to her calmly.

“If you speak of anything that happened in this room, I cannot guarantee your life. Understand?”

“I will remember, my lady.”

“Go on, then.”

He bowed so deeply that his neck was fully exposed, and cold sweat streamed down his face as he hurried out. He looked relieved simply to have survived.

Rosie lifted her gaze and fixed Callios with a stern, reprimanding look.

“How many more people must you kill before you’re satisfied? Stop this now.”

“I’ve killed most of the ones who deserved it.”

Callios said with a derisive glance toward the door Ide had exited through.

“There may be more.”

Rosie swallowed a sigh and changed the subject. If she kept arguing, he might start to doubt everything. Her anger hadn’t completely faded, but at least she had regained enough composure to speak.

Her expression cooled.

“I’m not apologizing for hitting you.”

“…I said worse. We’ll call it even.”

Surprisingly, Callios didn’t bring it up again. Instead, he stared at her, his gaze long and intent as if he was trying to read her mind. His gaze settled on one particular spot, lingering uncomfortably.

Just as Rosie opened her mouth to protest—

“What are you looking—ugh.”

Callios reached out and cupped her chin, his touch both gentle and firm. He turned her face this way and that, examining it with an unsettlingly deliberate gaze.

“You didn’t undress, so I thought maybe that was the extent of it—but no. Definitely not.”

Rosie’s face burned at his quiet murmur.

It seemed that he still hadn’t shaken off his suspicions.

“You can’t possibly still be—”

Before she could finish, he dragged his rough, abrupt thumb across her lips. Her soft lips pressed against it for a moment, sending a sharp jolt through her.

Rosie flinched.

Callios lowered his head, whispering deeply against her skin.

“This part of you swells up straight away. Even if I only suck on it a little.”