“I just played with him because he looked like a bored, lonely little boy. I had no idea he was a noble.”
Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t even asked his name. Curtis, who had leaned deeply into the backrest, slowly closed his eyes.
“He’s Prince Theo. The heir to the Principality of Anatole.”
“Oh…”
Roxana’s mouth dropped open in shock. No wonder—his confident demeanor and extraordinary aura had suggested noble blood. But she had never imagined he was of such high status.
“If I’ve offended him in any way…”
“On the contrary, Roxana.”
Curtis cut her off and opened his eyes.
“He said he liked you very much. Before he left, he said he hoped to see you again.”
His expression looked angry… or maybe just tired. But a fire lit in his gray eyes. There it was again—that scorching gaze that seemed like it might ignite and burn everything, including her. Tension tightened Roxana’s throat, and she swallowed dryly.
“But I can’t meet him again. No one can know my identity or status. Isn’t there any way to refuse?”
“Roxana.”
Curtis sat up and reached toward her. In one swift motion, he pulled off her long blonde wig, revealing her red hair that fell to her shoulders.
She had no time to react.
Curtis grabbed her chin, as if warning her not to resist, and asked in a low voice:
“Do you know who Prince Theo’s maternal uncle is?”
“…What?”
“I said, do you know?”
Hot breath brushed her ear and warmed her neck. His sharp eyes, proud nose, and stubborn lips were close enough to touch. His gaze was like a predator eyeing prey. The hand on her chin slid down to her neck, mocking her racing pulse. Curtis brought his face even closer. When their noses brushed, Roxana finally pushed him away with all her strength.
“No… I don’t know.”
She denied it, but his grip didn’t loosen. Frozen, she met his predatory gaze head-on.
“You know him.”
“…”
“Enoch Ferentz. Your…”
Curtis paused briefly, then spat out the last words.
“Your former fiancé.”
Roxana’s pupils trembled uncontrollably. Curtis withdrew his hand and delivered the final blow.
“You’ve been invited to his villa in ten days.”
“Surely you declined?”
“No. Until Prince Theo returns to his homeland, you’ll have to live as Melanie Dalton—my cousin.”
She couldn’t believe it. It made no sense. Had he actually accepted? Roxana shook her head in disbelief.
“Was there no way to say no? Or… don’t tell me—”
“You think I accepted it on purpose?”
It was a sharp question. Curtis cut her off again, then smirked.
“That’s up to you to decide. You know I’m unpredictable, Roxana.”
They’d run into the Duke on their way to find Roxana and Frey, who had briefly stepped outside.
“It’s been a while, Lord of the Frontier.”
The man who spoke seemed the very embodiment of nobility—immaculate platinum hair and deep blue eyes. Enoch Ferentz.
Black and white. Evil and good.
Everyone compared the two men. They were the same age, both young yet influential.
The newer nobility and knights, more progressive and willing to break tradition, supported Enoch. The old aristocracy, loyal to convention and tradition, stood with the Duke.
Curtis found the rivalry laughable—just another scheme by the powers that be to pit them against each other. Enoch seemed to agree. They had never clashed directly or even spoken much at council meetings.
Still, that didn’t mean they were on friendly terms. The truth was—they were uncomfortable around each other. Curtis had annihilated the family of Enoch’s former fiancée.
“What brings you to speak with me?”
Curtis abandoned formalities and got straight to the point. Enoch furrowed his brow slightly but followed suit.
“I see your relative is temporarily away.”
“Do you have business with her?”
“I heard she played with my nephew. Theo would like to invite her to our winter villa.”
At that moment, a fierce emotion flared in Curtis’s chest. Roxana was his. He had killed her once, then brought her back. Whether she lived or died again was up to him. She’s the fiancée you threw away long ago. If you wanted to save her, you should’ve done it two years ago.
Perhaps sensing Curtis’s hard expression, Enoch took a step back.
“Ah, I suppose this is a bit sudden. If it’s inconvenient, you may certainly decline.”
“…”
“There are absolutely no ulterior motives. It seems you care deeply for your cousin, Lord Russell.”
He spoke with the kind of tone one uses for an overprotective guardian. Curtis opened his mouth to speak—but then Greg’s words flashed through his mind:
“Surely you’re not planning to take a Dalton girl as your wife.”
A chill ran down his spine. This is nothing more than possessiveness.
To prove that to himself, Curtis impulsively accepted the invitation. As long as her identity wasn’t discovered, it would be fine. Roxana Dalton was the only stain on an otherwise spotless record. It was well-known that the Duke had coldly neglected his fiancée. Surely Enoch wouldn’t recognize her.
In truth, it was a half-childish decision.
“This is reckless. It’s dangerous. Can’t you still say no?”
“Why?”
“Well…”
“I’ve heard the rumors—you barely met the Duke. Was there more to it?”
Though his tone was light, it carried a sharp edge. Roxana flinched and shook her head.
“There wasn’t. It’s just like the rumors say. But that’s not the point.”
Her innocent answer softened Curtis’s hardened expression. He leaned back against the seat again and offered:
“Shall we make another bet, Roxana?”
“A bet?”
“While we’re at the villa—if the Duke recognizes you, I win. If he doesn’t, you win.”
He said it as casually as proposing a bet over lunch. Roxana lowered her eyes. It was a life-or-death situation for her, but the man before her acted with chilling indifference. One day, he taught her to dance under moonlight. Another, he was merciless. Like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.
Maybe keeping her as a maid was just his way of slowly killing her.
Roxana forced a bitter smile and asked quietly,
“Since this is a bet… what do I get if I win?”
Curtis paused, as if considering it, then answered:
“I’ll give you a week off.”
It wasn’t like she could say no. She had no choice in the matter. She might as well gain something. Her eyes lit with resolve.
“Fine. Then… what happens if I lose?”
“…”
“Is it my life?”
“No.”
Curtis rejected the idea instantly, without even thinking.
“I told you—if you obey me, I’ll guarantee your life.”
“Then what?”
His sharp gaze examined her anxious face.
“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll tell you when I do.”
It was a one-sided bet. But Roxana accepted it quietly. The dice had already been thrown. She was in no position to object.
Curtis had made it painfully clear—she was the powerless one.
—
* * *
After attending the banquet, Frey slowly began to emerge from her room and engage in various activities. She helped knead flour at the mill and even learned to milk cows.
“Oh, my lady! You really don’t have to do this! Please, let us handle it!”
“If the Lord sees this, we’ll be scolded! Please, let us do it!”
Panicked maids tried to stop her, but it was no use. Roxana, her assigned maid, was supposed to stop her—but she only encouraged her further.
“This time, how about trying goat milk? I’ll hold it steady for you.”
“Roxana!”
The pale-faced Kessie grabbed Roxana and dragged her outside.
“Are you out of your mind?! What are you thinking?! If the Lord sees this, we’re in so much trouble!”
“Don’t worry. He’s really busy right now. And this is what the young lady wants.”
“Still—!”
Roxana smiled and pointed.
“Can’t you see her face, Kessie?”
Kessie turned to Frey, who was awkwardly but earnestly milking a cow. The moment she saw her expression, her mouth dropped open.
“She’s… smiling?”
“She’s really enjoying herself. Even more than she did at the banquet.”
Right now, Frey was like someone stepping into the sunlight after being trapped in a cave for years. Roxana felt proud of her. She wanted to support her every wish.
“Roxana!”
Frey called out, having just filled a bucket of milk.
“Yes!”
Roxana answered enthusiastically and turned back to her—just in time to see a familiar face. It was Olivia, the girl who had nearly caused trouble by coming to the castle in place of her sister, Kessie.
Thanks to Robert’s intervention, Olivia had been hired as a maid for miscellaneous tasks.
She was usually too busy to be seen, so Roxana’s face brightened at the sight of her.
