The man, trembling uncontrollably, bolted away as if he had seen a ghost. Natalie burst into laughter, bending over as though her ribs might crack from delight.

***

After that, with only her attendants quietly following, Rosie spent a surprisingly pleasant time.

“Try this too!”

The dishes Natalie prepared were simple, but every bite was comforting and warm. Of course, they couldn’t compare to what the head chef of the ducal estate could make but there was a kind of gentle peace in them, something homely and soft.

It was also Rosie’s first time sitting among people who weren’t nobles. Yet she found it… unexpectedly enjoyable.

How long had it been since she could laugh freely without being on guard?

But the moment the sound of horses came near, the table fell silent.

With the clatter of metal, a deep male voice carried through the thin door.

“Here, sir.”

‘What is happening?’

Before she could even process it…

Bang!

The flimsy door didn’t just swing open, it shattered. Splintered wood scattered across the floor as Callios strode inside with long, unhesitating steps.

Rosie shot to her feet, placing herself between him and the table, glaring sharply.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

With a stony expression, Callios seized her arm.

“What are you doing in a place like this?”

“Can’t you see? I’m eating.”

Her calm tone made him look as if he might lose his mind.

Callios leaned in, growling low, his face inches from hers.

“Do you really think that’s what I’m asking right now? I’m asking why you’re in a place like this.”

“First, let go. We can talk afterwards.”

Rosie rejected him clearly, her voice firm. The more she resisted, the more Callios’s eyes darkened with anger.

“You know what kind of place this is, and you came all the way inside.”

“……”

“Are you out of your mind? You should’ve turned back. Why are you in a filthy gutter like—”

“Callios.”

Unable to listen anymore, Rosie quietly called his name.

He froze for a moment. Rosie met his stare, then sighed.

“You lived here too.”

She gestured lightly, as if telling him to look around the small room that she had helped to make cosy. The red tapestry covering the rotten wooden boards and the pale beige tablecloth she had laid out for his visit were plainly visible.

“Your mother lived here. And Ashley too.”

What was he seeing in this place now?

Rosie felt she didn’t even need to guess.

“Are you trying to insult that same place?”

For the first time, his gaze wavered—deeply. Whatever brought him here, his chest rose and fell sharply. She bit her lip as she said quietly.

“People live here just the same.”

“……”

“So stop talking like that. Please.”

Callios stared at her in silence, as if he’d completely lost his words. At the scene before him—Rosie standing there, framed by the worn room—his eyes burned darkly, like something smoldering without air.

She didn’t know how long he stood that way.

Then he shifted his grip, holding her arm again, but this time, the gesture was gentler, almost coaxing.

“I understand what you mean. But come out now.”

Rosie slipped her arm free with a scoff.

“Spare me. Fix the door you just destroyed.”

“No matter what you patch over it with, this isn’t a place you should be. You shouldn’t be here.”

He took a step, then stopped, grimacing as he looked around the room once more. Rough words slipped from his mouth.

‘There are people watching you… really.’

Rosie watched him, noting that, although he was still annoyed, he looked far calmer than before.

“By the way… did you realize it was me earlier?”

She had thought her hood hid her well. How on earth had he known? Rosie widened her eyes. Callios merely tilted his chin towards the table.

Natalie and the other attendants were already kneeling on the floor with their heads bowed in fear.

“With them trailing behind you in broad daylight, how could I not know?”

“Ah…”

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you just because you were hiding behind that idiot?”

He pointed it out coldly. Rosie flushed, realizing she hadn’t even considered that.

“And even if they weren’t there, I would’ve known.”

“…How?”

His burning gaze locked onto her face.

“How could I ever not recognize you?”

His large hand wrapped around her, warm and firm. His voice was low, as if it was only natural he should always know her.

Despite his casual tone, the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

But Rosie only let out a faint, bitter smile.

‘So what? What difference does it make.’

Words that would once have made her heart race were now powerless to affect her. Everything that could once have been ignited by the slightest spark was now cold.

It was so cold that reviving it felt impossible.

Rosie turned to Natalie, who was still bowing her head.

“Thank you for inviting me. And I’ll look into what’s happening with your troupe leader. He won’t be able to lay a hand on you again.”

“Th–thank you, my lady!”

Rosie also addressed the anxious attendees standing next to the stunned Natalie.

“You three should head back first. The knights are here, so I’ll be fine.”

Of course, she had a more reliable companion than a hundred knights standing beside her, but she didn’t mention that.

Rosie looked back and gently pushed Callios’s hand away. A brief flicker of something passed through his eyes before he spoke again.

“We can talk on the way.”

She glanced over her shoulder and gestured to one of the knights. The man approached briskly, posture sharp.

Rosie nodded toward the broken door.

“Fix that before you leave.”

“Y—yes, of course.”

Leaving the flustered knight behind, Rosie continued walking, with Callios silently following her. She would have preferred to walk alone, but Callios was right. This place was dangerous for someone unfamiliar with its alleys.

The moment they stepped outside, Callios looked around as if searching for something.

“Where did you leave the carriage?”

“There wasn’t a safe spot nearby, so we parked a little farther from the entrance.”

Anything too close would risk being stripped or stolen.

Callios gave a short nod.

“Good.”

Rosie found herself staring at his profile.

‘How strange… he actually praised me.’

Trash, broken glass and sharp metal scraps littered their path. Had she been barefoot, her feet would have been shredded.

She saw children running, limping and hiding who were barefoot. In her previous life, she would never have noticed them.

Why did these things stand out to her now?

‘I want to help them.’

If she hadn’t already been doomed, she never would have come here in the first place. Knowing she had nothing left to lose made her feel strangely free.

The blackened part of her heart felt lighter, almost bright.

It was then that she saw them: a pair of barefoot siblings hiding behind a rotting beam. A little girl, just old enough to walk, and her older brother, several heads taller, were watching Rosie and Callios warily.

Their bare feet bothered her more than she expected. Rosie stopped walking and glanced down at her own shoes — plain, sturdy, comfortable black leather.

‘I can’t just walk away.’

Her resolve set, she motioned to the older sibling.

“Come here, dear.”

The little sister brightened immediate but her older brother blocked her path, his eyes sharp with caution.

Rosie tried again, gentler.

“It’s all right.”

Callios followed her gaze, his expression tightening in irritation. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

“You’re not seriously planning to give them your shoes, are you?”

Rosie flinched, pressing her lips together.

How did he know?

Callios spoke sharply, cutting her off before she could react.

“If you don’t want me carrying you under my arm like a sack, stop right now.”

Yes, she definitely didn’t want that.

But giving them money or valuables?

That was impossible, too.

‘I gave everything away earlier… I don’t have anything left.’

Callios glanced at Rosie, who looked torn and helpless, then loosened the clasp of his own pouch.

Without a word, he flicked several gold coins straight toward the siblings. The boy caught them neatly, quick and practiced, and Callios ordered curtly:

“Make sure no one steals them.”

The boy gave a sharp nod, grabbed his little sister’s hand, and vanished down the closest doorway.

Only when they disappeared safely inside did Callios turn back to Rosie, who was standing beside him in silence.

“Is that enough now?”

But Rosie wasn’t looking at the children anymore.

Her eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Callios’s pouch.

A very clear intention burned in them.

Callios hesitated, then let out a long, resigned sigh.

In the end, he tipped the rest of the coins out of his pouch, and only then did a pleased smile bloom across Rosie’s face.

Delighted shouts rose from every corner of the dark brothel quarter. Callios turned towards Rosie again — the woman smiling in this bleak place — and his expression changed, becoming unfamiliar and almost unsettled.

“I didn’t know you had the guts to walk around a place like this. Laughing like nothing’s wrong, even here.”

At his remark, Rosie’s smile faltered.

‘Did I look too happy?’

She quickly schooled her expression, but Callios let out a soft snort, as if something had come to mind.

“Well, you’ve always been a little different.”

Different?

She couldn’t begin to guess what that meant.

Then, noticing the brothel folk sneaking glances at her, Callios shot them a murderous glare. People flinched and scattered instantly.

He reached out towards her.

“What are you—”

Before she could finish speaking, he suddenly pulled her hood up again, obscuring her face.

Startled, she tilted her head up to look at him.

Callios muttered darkly in a low, edgy voice.

“You’re showing your face in a place like this… Tell me, who are you trying to look good for?”