21.
“Count, over here. Forgive us, but we couldn’t handle it…”
The soldier leading the way suddenly stopped, eyes widening.
Most of the horses that had bolted earlier were already back.
And the real troublemaker—the magnificent white stallion—stood calmly now, reins in his young attendant’s hands.
Adilo, with his beautiful, noble bearing, lifted his head lazily and looked their way.
The soldier broke into a cold sweat. Had he dragged Count Rohwinas Canesion here for nothing?
The attendant spotted him and rushed forward.
“Count! Y-you’re here! Well, this is… what happened was—”
“Adilo caused trouble,” Rohwinas cut in flatly.
“Ah… y-yes, sir. That’s right.”
The boy glanced uneasily at Adilo and bowed his head.
“No one was hurt?” Rohwinas asked.
“No, sir! Thanks to—oh.”
The boy’s face went pale mid-sentence, as though realizing he’d said too much.
Rohwinas narrowed his eyes.
He remembered the boy’s father—he’d been a capable stable master. But this son… he never measured up.
“Thanks to what?” Rohwinas pressed.
Just then, a young woman hurried up to his side. She had followed after him, breathless, her cheeks flushed pink.
Sunlight glimmered across her emerald hair and violet eyes.
Lady Meriana Peregrine. His fiancée.
While Rohwinas turned to her, the soldier brought forward another man to explain the situation.
In short: a young lady had stepped in, tamed the raging Adilo with ease, and prevented any injuries.
“…A young lady?” the soldier frowned. “Did you thank her properly?”
The junior soldier shifted nervously.
“She… disappeared before we could. While we weren’t looking.”
“What? Then no one knows who she was?”
“Not exactly…”
“At least you saw what she looked like, didn’t you?”
The young soldier fidgeted, then declared earnestly,
“She was… pitch black. Like a hawk!”
If Rohwinas hadn’t been standing there, the soldier might’ve slapped the boy on the back of the head.
Grinding his teeth, the officer barked, “I didn’t ask for your impression! Her features!”
Even before the boy answered, Rohwinas already knew.
From the moment he saw Adilo obediently holding still under someone else’s hand, he had guessed.
Meriana’s eyes clung to his face, but he ignored her, waiting.
The boy finally stammered, “Sh-she had black hair. She was small, but… her eyes! Golden eyes, sir. Bright as gold. I swear it!”
“…Are you sure you didn’t mistake them for light brown?”
“No, sir! They shone bright gold. I’d stake my name on it!”
Rohwinas fell silent.
Black hair. Golden eyes.
And the only person alive who could calm Adilo.
Of course he knew who it was.
The soldier babbled on, oblivious, but the glances Rohwinas received grew wary. Especially with Lady Meriana right beside him.
One wrong word in front of her, and whispers would spread like wildfire.
His reputation for mercilessness was already well known.
Meriana smiled sweetly, breaking the tension.
“Then I must thank this young lady myself.”
Her voice was graceful, warm.
The soldiers lowered their eyes, admiring her for her kindness.
“Meriana, there’s no need—” Rohwinas began gently.
But before he could finish, she stepped forward toward Adilo, hand reaching out.
At once, Adilo reared, hooves slashing at the air.
Meriana gasped, stumbling back as Rohwinas yanked her arm sharply, pulling her to him.
The young attendant clung desperately to the reins.
Adilo snorted, stamping furiously, as if ready to strike her down.
Rohwinas ordered the boy back with a sharp gesture, then turned to Meriana.
“Are you hurt?”
“…No.”
“I told you not to go near Adilo.”
“He looked calm…”
“He doesn’t accept anyone’s touch. Even when he seems quiet, he can turn savage without warning.”
“But we can’t go on like this forever,” she insisted, trying to smile.
“There’s no need to risk yourself over a horse,” Rohwinas said firmly.
“…Still.”
He understood why she was being stubborn, but it wasn’t worth arguing.
“Think of what might have happened if I hadn’t been here,” he said quietly.
He clicked his tongue and led her further away.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she murmured.
“As long as you’re unharmed, that’s all that matters,” he replied.
“And Adilo?”
“He won’t be brought out when you’re around. Don’t trouble yourself.”
In truth, he had only brought the horse today to give it air after hearing of its tantrums in the stables.
But seeing Adilo submit to that woman and no one else—
—sometimes it made him want to cut the beast down then and there.
His chest twisted with sick anger.
And yet, he hadn’t done it. He didn’t even know why.
After that, he simply ordered Adilo locked away, treated as if he didn’t exist.
Now, though, he was certain. Adilo would never be let out again.
He gave a signal, and soldiers led the struggling horse and attendant away.
When the noise faded, leaving only the two of them, Meriana’s voice turned colder.
“You can let go now. It hurts.”
Rohwinas released her arm at once.
“My apologies.”
She looked down at her arm.
“You could have held me in your arms instead.”
Her tone was sharp.
He lifted an eyebrow, unbothered.
“You could have pulled me close to protect me. But you just yanked my arm.”
“…”
“Did you want to embarrass me in front of everyone? Is that it?”
“What gain would I have in humiliating you?”
“Adilo is your horse! Why does he hate me so much?”
“Adilo is like that with everyone.”
Except one person, she thought bitterly.
She bit her lip.
“If you want to break off our engagement, just say so.”
“Meriana. You don’t truly want that. So why say it?”
“That’s all you can say? Really?!”
Rohwinas hesitated, then said, “I’ll try harder. Please don’t say such things again.”
“…”
“Anger only harms your health.”
Her expression tightened, pale and cold, though her beauty remained flawless.
“How long must I keep waiting?” she whispered.
“…”
“Yes, I promised I would wait. But it’s been four years. Four years, Rohwinas!”
Her voice cracked, hushed so others wouldn’t hear.
He remembered well. On their engagement day, he had held her face, leaned close to kiss her… and then stopped.
So close their lips had nearly touched, yet never met.
Meriana had smiled then, saying she would wait.
But waiting had stretched endlessly. It wasn’t just kisses withheld—something deeper was always missing.
Sometimes, she felt like she was bound to a man with a dead, frozen heart.
“…You may never have loved that woman,” she said bitterly, “but you haven’t forgotten her body, have you?”
Her words cut her own heart even as she threw them at him.
But when she saw Rohwinas’s face stiffen—finally crack—something like satisfaction twisted inside her.
“Why?” she pressed, lips curling. “Beating that man nearly to death for insulting her wasn’t enough? Are you angry with me now too?”
It was only her assumption. Only Meriana believed that.
Rohwinas dismissed it inwardly and answered coolly,
“Do I strike you as the kind of man who would force a relationship I don’t want?”
Indeed, he wasn’t. He lacked the patience for such falsehood.
He took her hand gently.
“I don’t love that woman.”
“Then… what about me?”
“…”
“Do you love me?”
Her violet eyes shimmered with tears as she looked up at him.
Rohwinas held her gaze and said,
“I love you.”
It was the plain, unvarnished truth.
