Chapter 148
He looked utterly harmless—so much so that it seemed deliberate, as if he were fully aware of the impression he gave others.
A shiver ran down Jaha’s spine, making her flinch.
Rikanan is a good man.
Over a month had passed since she arrived here, yet she had never once seen him behave in a way unbefitting a gentleman. His face was always gentle, his tone smooth, his actions kind. And yet, every now and then, she couldn’t help but think—
Why does this man… feel so detestable?
Why did it feel like she was looking at someone wearing a mask that didn’t fit, sending chills down her spine?
Don’t give him an opening.
If she left even the slightest gap, he would—
Devour me whole.
Like a crab hiding its prey before swallowing it in one go.
She didn’t feel this way every moment, but there were times when facing him made her think like this. And now was one of those times.
Was this a false alarm?
Was her danger sensor malfunctioning?
Or—
Acting on instinct, Jaha reached for the ring. But in her haste, she leaned too far forward, losing her balance. The table she grabbed to steady herself only tilted further under her weight.
As the objects on the table—sharp cutlery, a heavy candlestick—tumbled toward her, she squeezed her eyes shut.
I should’ve just let myself fall instead of grabbing the table.
Regret, a desperate hope that she wouldn’t be too badly hurt, and fear of the impending pain swirled chaotically in her mind—until the scent of rain-drenched forest suddenly enveloped her.
Clean, cool, yet with a strangely cloying undertone.
Before she could gather her thoughts, it was over.
“Are you hurt?”
The low murmur above her head sent another shiver down her spine. His voice was as pleasant as ever, but it was far too close.
The firmness of his body pressed against hers.
The sound of a heartbeat, loud and near.
The arm firmly supporting her back, the subtle pressure of a large palm cradling the nape of her neck—Jaha quickly grasped the situation.
I’m in this man’s arms.
He threw himself to protect me.
“Y-You okay? What about you, Rikanan?”
“Perfectly fine.”
His voice was calm, betraying no sign of pain. Still, she needed to be sure. Jaha wriggled free from his hold. Thankfully, there were no visible injuries—but what about the parts hidden beneath his clothes?
“Really okay? Nothing hurts?”
Fidgeting, she couldn’t shake the worry that he might have been hurt shielding her.
No matter how unsettling she found him, gratitude and responsibility were inevitable in this situation. And truthfully, this man was nothing short of her savior—the one who had taken her in when she’d been abruptly dumped into this world.
The strange sense of dissonance, the occasional prickle of danger she felt around him? That was purely her own subjective impression. Objectively speaking, he had only ever helped her, never once causing harm.
Had he not appeared and slipped that translation ring onto her finger, what would have become of Yoo Jaha in this world where no one understood her?
Sold into slavery? Marked as a suspicious figure and killed? Or worse…
No matter how she imagined it, no good endings came to mind.
A renewed wave of gratitude washed over her—along with a pang of guilt.
Wasn’t this exactly why people warned against taking in strays with black fur? Here she was, suspicious and guarded against a man who had done nothing wrong. On the contrary, he’d just rushed to her aid without hesitation.
Why are you putting up defenses like this? You’re no psychic—how often have your gut feelings even been right? Get a grip, Yoo Jaha.
Chastened, she redoubled her efforts to check on him.
Rikanan watched Jaha circle him intently, then slowly flexed his gloved hand a few times. The movement caught her sharpened attention.
“Did you hurt your hand?”
“No.”
“We should check to be sure. Take off the glove—let me see.”
Driven by duty, she reached to remove his glove. But Rikanan pulled his hand back sharply. The force of his recoil startled her into stillness.
He tugged the glove back up to his wrist, covering the sliver of exposed skin, then met her gaze. His eyes seemed darker now—whether in her imagination or reality, she couldn’t tell. Jaha snapped back to her senses and apologized.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking…”
“It’s fine. You may touch me without asking.”
His tone was gentle, but she detected steel beneath it: Anything else, but not the gloves. That line isn’t to be crossed.
It struck her then—she’d never once seen Rikanan bare-handed. Over a month in this mansion, and not a single glimpse.
Even for nobility who prized etiquette, wearing gloves indoors at all times was undeniably unusual.
‘There’s something here. I just messed up.’
Jaha had no desire to pry into others’ secrets. Everyone had things they wished to hide—curiosity killed the cat, after all. And one unintentionally uncovered secret was already enough.
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