Chapter 16 

“…Mmph, mmph!”  

Hystein carefully searched his surroundings, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.  

But just as the choking, gasping sounds threatened to make him faint, he moved almost by instinct, kicking down the thick wooden door.

“What—what the h*ll! D*mn it! Who’s there!”  

In the darkness, lit only by a sliver of moonlight, Rosalie sat among the straw, her hands bound and mouth gagged.

Hystein quickly grabbed a metal lever propped against the wall. His grip tightened around the lever.

There they were—the murderer who had terrorized Rodin and Rosalie. The killer, half-undone belt at his waist, turned to Hystein.

“Hey… Did you come alone?”

The man, breathing harshly, ostentatiously pulled the belt from his waist and wrapped it around his fist—readying himself for a street brawl.

Dragging the lever, Hystein asked in a chilling voice,  

“And if I did?”

“Then I’ll have to kill you—ack!”

The murderer’s head twisted grotesquely and blood spurted like a fountain. Hystein had struck him on the side of the head without warning.

“Ugh, huff…”

Rosalie squeezed her eyes shut. Thud, thump. The sound of Hystein hitting the man with the lever rang out again and again.

The murderer must have lost consciousness, but Hystein kept beating him with all his strength.

‘…He’ll kill him at this rate.’

Rosalie trembled violently, bowing her head.

With a clang, the lever rolled across the floor and the thick smell of blood swept in. She wanted to open her eyes, but her body wouldn’t obey.

“…Rose.”

A voice, strained as if choking, echoed in her ear. A blood-soaked hand cupped her chin.

Only then did her eyes slowly open. Rosalie struggled to lift her head.

Hystein, his face pale and splattered with blood like paint, was looking at her. Their eyes were level, suggesting he had sunk to his knees, unconcerned about dirtying his clothes.

He wiped the blood from his eyes with the back of his hand. As the blood smeared away, the crescent-shaped scar was revealed.

A tear fell from the corner of Rosalie’s eye.

“Mmph…”

Her mouth was still gagged. As she sniffled and whimpered, Hystein hurried to remove the gag. He didn’t seem to care about the saliva-soaked cloth.

“H-Hys. Hys. Hys…!”

“Shh. You’re safe now.”

His large hand rested gently on her trembling shoulder. For a moment, Rosalie leaned her forehead against Hystein’s broad chest and cried.

He gave her all the time she needed to calm down. Rosalie, her cheek pressed against his wrinkled shirt, stammered,

“…How did you know I was here?”

It felt as if heat radiated from her face pressed to his chest. Occasionally, she sniffled, still crying.

Hystein’s body, now much broader than ten years ago, stiffened. Rosalie felt a strange sensation and fidgeted.

He used to be like a boy who’d just grown tall, but now he was unmistakably a man. Noticing that Rosalie had calmed down, Hystein spoke.

“If you’re done crying, let’s talk outside.”

“My wrists…”

“There’s nothing I can do just now. It’s too dark to see properly.”

He stood up first, helped Rosalie to her feet by her shoulder and back, and stepped away. With her hands still bound and buried  in straw, she staggered and nearly fell backward.

The scratchy straw pricked her bare feet. As she looked down to steady herself, she saw the pool of blood and the man lying so still she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

Was he dead? He was down now, but it felt like he might spring up and grab her hair at any moment.

Rosalie gasped and turned her head away from the man. Collapsing back onto the straw, her shoulders shook violently.

Hystein quickly helped her up.

“Careful.”

“Th-thank you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, watching Rosalie tiptoe gingerly, he clicked his tongue and bent down, sliding an arm under her thighs.

Without effort, he lifted her and carried her out over the broken door. The damp air and faint mist clung to their skin.

‘If I ever saw Hystein again, there were so many things I wanted to ask…’

For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to speak now. Rosalie lowered her eyes.

Hystein didn’t speak to her either. Silently, he walked across the dew-soaked field and lifted her onto the white horse tied to a tree.

Avoiding Rosalie’s constant gaze, Hystein untied the knot, returned, and mounted the stirrup.

“Looks like it’s going to rain.”

The large man sat behind Rosalie as if to shield her. His hand on the reins moved slowly. Rosalie craned her neck to look up at the sky.

Sure enough, dark clouds had gathered around the silvery moonlight. She asked carefully,

“Where are we going?”

“…”

“Hys?”

“Home.”

The mill she never wanted to see again slowly receded into the distance. They left the riverbank and fields behind.

For a while, only the steady sound of hoofbeats filled the air. Rosalie grumbled to herself.

‘That villain tied me up so painfully.’

Now that the tension was gone, she kept moving her hands, which only made the rope tighten and leave red marks on her wrists.

Rosalie winced and looked up at Hystein. He sat straight-backed, eyes fixed ahead.

“Shouldn’t we go to the guards first? I don’t know exactly, but after something like this…”

“Like that?”

The horse’s pace quickened. At the fork in the road, he chose the residential area lined with wealthy homes.

Just as Rosalie thought something was off, the horse sped up, climbing a hill. Unable to steady herself, she clung to Hystein.

His tense thigh muscles bulged as he gripped the horse.

“Your wrists hurt more than I thought.”

Hystein’s voice dropped lower. Just then, thick raindrops began to fall.

In an instant, they were soaked. Rosalie shivered from the cold. After a while, they arrived at the entrance of an unfamiliar mansion.

“Welcome, Sir.”

The guard at the entrance recognized Hystein. The gate opened and the horse carrying them entered.

As they passed down the long road, green garden trees fluttered in the strong wind. Rosalie finally spoke,

“This is…”

“You know where we are.”

“I thought you’d take me home.”

Of course she did. She’d expected to see Angela and Gérard first, let them know she was safe, and report the man at the mill to the guards.

At the mansion’s front entrance, Hystein dismounted and lifted Rosalie in his arms. He climbed the stairs past the bowed butler and many servants.

‘…I don’t get it. Why did he bring me here?’

Rosalie was perplexed, but for some reason, didn’t want to ask yet. She never imagined she’d visit Hystein’s mansion after he became a Duke.

“Hold still.”

When she shifted, he warned her. After passing through a hallway far larger than her townhouse, they reached a large room, where Hystein set her down.

Mud from her ordeal stained the beige carpet. Rosalie stood in the middle of the room, blinking.

Hystein rummaged through a nearby drawer and brought out a small dagger. Rosalie flinched, but Hystein pretended not to notice.

“Hold still.”

Repeating his earlier words, he awkwardly took her arm and carefully cut the rope binding her wrists.

Only their faint breathing and the sound of the rope snapping echoed in the quiet room.