Chapter 64: How a Mercenary Avoids Rain with Her Husband (4)

For Valentin, eating was not about taste but about filling an empty void. Because of that, he never really had “favorites.”

Regina tapped the table lightly to call him back from staring out the window.

“Then, you can find something from now on.”

She opened another pudding box.
Whenever someone bought more than five, the shop owner added a “special pudding.” Sure enough, one had a different color. She gently pushed it toward him.

“If you don’t know, then try. Experience it.”

Valentin blinked at the pudding placed before him. Regina handed him a spoon as well.

“That one is my favorite flavor. I’ll share it with you.”

“…Thank you.”

Regina waited, eyes fixed on him. Under her expectant gaze, he finally scooped and tasted it.

“How is it?”

“…It’s good.”

“Then that’s something you like. Remember it.”

So simple and direct. Valentin laughed softly. Seeing his smile, Regina smiled too.

“You got some on your lips.”

The special pudding was covered in cream and syrup. Regina often made the same mess.

“Where?”

“Your lower lip…”

She pointed with her finger, but he only tilted his head. Growing impatient, Regina leaned closer and wiped the cream herself.

“Valentin, don’t—”

But before her hand pulled away, Valentin caught it. He quickly licked the cream from her fingertip. His warm tongue brushed against her skin.

Startled, Regina snatched her hand back.

“…Sweet.”

“Valentin, people don’t just lick things like dogs.”

“It wasn’t just ‘anything.’ And… do I really seem like a dog to you?”

Though half the pudding was left, he leaned back, satisfied, as if finished.

“……”

Even Regina, blunt as she was, couldn’t answer, “Yes, like a dog.”
His sharp eyes reminded her more of a sly fox anyway.

“I should start carrying a handkerchief. Otherwise, he’ll just lick things again.”

“Yes, the rain stopped.”

“Oh—you’re right.”

Her face brightened as she looked out. She hadn’t even noticed until now.

Fifteen days locked in a shed. His real mother had led him inside and died holding his hand. Valentin was left alone, watching days rise and fall.

Through the cracks of the wooden wall, a small stray cat had become his only companion.
Sometimes, it meowed within reach of his fingertips.

In that dark shed, with only buzzing insects for company, that cat was his only warmth. Even a brush of fur on his hand gave him comfort.

When the cat suddenly died, foam at its mouth from eating something wrong, the pain crushed him.

He clawed at the wooden boards until his arms bled and dug at the ground until his nails broke.

On that bright sunny day, the ground caved into despair. Hunger turned into emptiness.

“…Ha.”

That cursed night haunted him in dreams. Valentin exhaled deeply and looked around his room, as if to confirm it wasn’t that shed.

His eyes lingered on the closed door. He rose from bed, opened it, and stepped out.
The night sky after the storm was clear and fresh.

But then—

“What are you doing here?”

Valentin spotted Gyle standing guard in front of Regina’s door. His sour mood worsened.

“…A night watch. Mercenaries can’t sleep deeply unless someone they trust is standing guard.”

Explaining the guild’s ways annoyed Gyle, but what he hated more was being alone with Valentin. He hoped the duke would just go back inside.

“Yet here you are, right in front of her door.”

“And what about you? Why sneak out at night?”

Gyle’s sharp retort met Valentin’s faint smile. They exchanged glares, but neither let their hidden killing intent spill out.

Then a thought struck Valentin—how many times had Gyle stood outside her room like this, swallowing his feelings under the excuse of a “watch”?

That thought, mixed with the remnants of his nightmare, twisted into burning irritation.

“‘Old friend’ is a very convenient excuse.”

Instead of going back, Valentin chose to mock him.

“But during this request, she’s mine. I’ve already marked her.”

He slowly licked his lower lip. Rage flared in Gyle’s chest—he gripped his own arm to stop himself from punching.

“Not a chance. I won’t let some shady man full of secrets stay by Regina’s side. I’ll make sure this contract ends.”

So he’d noticed the hidden secrets. Sharp of him. But Valentin had no intention of praising it.

“We’ll see. Can you force a mercenary who values contracts above all else?”

The night breeze rattled branches. Raindrops splattered against the window near him.

“And besides…”

For the first time in his life, he wanted something so badly.

Maybe people would call it love. He wasn’t sure. He thought he was broken, cursed with an endless hunger.

But his desire for Regina was certain. He wanted her by his side.

Gyle shivered at the emptiness in Valentin’s eyes, now filled with fierce possession. He felt as if he’d just broken a dam—and whatever poured out was going to devour her.

Creak. The door shut behind Valentin.

Morning came. The storm seemed like a lie. Sunlight and fresh air washed over the land.

“Sir Thomas?”

Even though the muddy ground made riding difficult, Thomas came early to Persona. His skill with horses was clear.

He bowed to Regina and Valentin. Regina found the knight’s proud, dignified bearing strangely unfamiliar.

“A royal messenger has delivered an order.”

“…From the imperial family?”

“Yes. You must return to Balmen.”

Normally, the recipient had to accept such orders in person. But when absent, a representative could sometimes stand in.
The Julius Duchy, however, had no such person yet.

“Let’s gather only what we need. I’ll arrange for the rest.”

Regina rose. Valentin slowly stood with his cane. Then Thomas lowered his voice to him:

“My lord, Marquess Keblen Negal has come as well. He bears the order as an imperial knight.”

“…Ah. An old, familiar face.”

The heavy shift in the air made Regina pause. She glanced back—Valentin rarely showed emotion this openly.

Usually, he hid behind his sly smile.

“A carriage waits midway. Inside are gowns for the lady and clothes for you, my lord.”