Chapter 61
Roseline twisted her body, still sprawled across his chest. She braced her elbows and tried to push herself up, but his arms didn’t budge an inch. Their legs tangled, their breaths close enough to mingle.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
She glared down at him as she spoke. Valen’s expression hovered between amusement and something darker as he pressed her firmly back against him.
“Right now? I’d like to be inside you.”
His refined, cold features contrasted sharply with the heat of his lower body.
Roseline’s face twisted in disgust as she shot him a withering look. Then, with deliberate sharpness, she pried his hands off her hips and waist. This time, he didn’t stop her. The chain kept her from going far, forcing her to perch on the edge of the bed—but even this small distance was a relief.
“Once we reach the capital, I’ll most likely end up in a coffin, won’t I?”
“Probably.”
“Then do you really think I care about anything right now?”
“Keep going. I’m listening.”
“Given that you’ve had me watched before, you must already know why I attacked Lord Vermouth. Which means—I could do the same to you, Your Highness.”
“Ah, so now you’re threatening me.”
“Not a threat. Just stating a hypothetical.”
She shrugged with an innocent smile, though the forced curve of her lips stiffened until her expression flattened entirely. Valen’s eyes narrowed.
“How insolent.”
The word insolent never preceded anything good. Now was the time to retreat—and she’d already said her piece. Roseline let her smile fade as if it had never been there, tilting her head sweetly. Valen watched her in silence before letting out a dry, incredulous laugh.
“You’ve gotten better with words. Though you still can’t look me in the eye.”
She wasn’t sure if it was self-deprecation or a jab, but she knew exactly what he meant—those days after she’d decided to leave, when guilt and exhaustion had made her avoid him entirely.
“……”
Roseline, with nothing left to say, fidgeted with the chain, feigning distraction—
THUD.
A shockwave rattled the building. Roseline’s eyes widened. The raw, unfiltered reality—momentarily forgotten in their petty exchange—seeped back into her skin. Valen’s grip tightened on her arm as he glanced sharply toward the window.
“Lie down.”
He shifted deeper into the bed, tapping the space beside him.
What kind of nonsense is that? Roseline scowled but inched toward the foot of the bed—only for the chain to pull taut. His steel-gray eyes traced the straight line of the chain between them.
“I could always make you lie down.”
“……”
“Or put you to sleep.”
The implication was clear—if she didn’t lie down willingly, he’d force her. Roseline sighed and wrapped herself in a protective barrier.
“Do you think breaking your barrier would be difficult?”
His voice carried a faint laugh. And tearing down her barrier was as easy as his amusement suggested—all he’d have to do was call in a knight to blast it apart with offensive mana a few times.
Fine. If he’s that desperate, who am I to refuse? It’s better for me anyway—more comfortable.
Grumbling, Roseline turned her back to him and flopped onto the far edge of the bed, clinging to the side as if even the touch of their clothes would be too much. Watching her rigid posture, Valen laughed silently.
“Sleep.”
“You’re a stranger to me too, Your Highness. How can you trust me enough to sleep? Who knows what I might do to you?”
“Where do you think you fell asleep last night?”
“……”
“And the night before?”
The unspoken answer, In his arms.
That’s because you forced me to sleep! Roseline muttered under her breath and reinforced her barrier. She ignored the quiet laughter behind her, blinking stubbornly at the wall.
“Hey… can I ask you one thing?”
No answer came, but silence was permission enough.
“How did you know I’d try to escape the inn?”
“Remember the color of the blanket you used as a rope.”
“…Turquoise?”
Again, no reply. But it was enough. The inner blanket was turquoise, with white lining beneath. Meaning, this man had deduced her entire escape plan from that one tiny detail. Unbelievable observational skills.
Roseline glanced over her shoulder and clicked her tongue.
“Close your eyes.”
It was strange. By all logic, sleep should’ve been impossible. Even as quiet settled over the small bedroom, intermittent wails echoed from the streets beyond the walls. Yet, despite the tension coiled tight in her nerves all day, they unwound without her realizing—her eyelids growing heavy, slipping shut.
Each time she startled awake from a half-doze, a familiar voice murmured.
“Shh. It’s fine.”
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