Chapter 55
It wasn’t exactly a lie—Grady still had wet dreams remembering that day.
“Physical attachment… it seems it’s more dangerous than I thought. Even if it’s not love, as Your Majesty fears, I can’t deny that my body reacts in her presence.”
“What…?”
Rosella stumbled back, as if hit by a shockwave. The chill that crept into her bones made her tremble. She wasn’t sure she had heard Grady correctly.
Every time Grady met Eliana’s gaze, he pressed his lips to hers and left kiss marks on her body. Ever since Rodin entered the estate, Grady’s obsession with Eliana had only intensified.
Seeing her body covered in marks he had left ignited a heat low in his stomach.
Yet the more marks he left, the more parched he became—like a man who drinks seawater and only grows thirstier.
Even while kissing her, it frustrated him that he couldn’t go deeper. He felt wounded when she pushed him away, gasping for breath.
“Good lord. Wounded?”
Grady shook his head violently, disturbed by the realization of his own emotions.
There was still no conclusive answer regarding the deaths of Eliana’s former husbands. Though officially ruled as death-by-excess during sex, Grady had a gut feeling there was more to it. That uncertainty made him hesitant to approach her recklessly.
He felt like he was teetering on a tightrope—torn between uncontrollable desire and dangerous curiosity.
He had never experienced feelings like this, not even in his teens.
“I will never sell that painting to the Grand Duchess! Never!”
Rosella clenched her teeth, trembling from the surge of anger she could no longer contain.
“That painting was a gift I gave to Her Majesty the Empress in the first place. Its disposition is at Her Majesty’s discretion.”
“Yes. It’s mine.”
Rosella bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood souring her mood.
“May I take my leave now?”
“…The Canto gambling house sent word. Get it resolved today.”
Grady looked at her blankly. Rosella, unfazed by the storm of emotions swirling in his dark eyes, shamelessly extended a receipt.
He held himself back from punching her for daring to order him to pay off the Marquis’s debt.
“Very well.”
“There were also overdue notices from the dressmaker and jeweler.”
Rosella tossed a stack of receipts that had been sitting by the window at Grady. All the debts were incurred by her birth family, the Marquis and Marchioness of Phaiver.
“…….”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t fired Emma!”
Grady lifted his gaze at her bitter accusation.
Despite all the years that had passed, Rosella hadn’t changed one bit. She even justified her actions by blaming Emma’s absence. Still, Grady made no rebuttal.
He quietly knelt on one knee and began picking up the overdue notices. Rosella coldly turned and walked away.
Outside the window, the twilight sky had already turned to night. The impenetrable darkness beyond resembled Grady himself.
“That fool. No matter how hard I try to see him in a better light, it’s impossible!”
Rosella stormed out of the archive.
As she opened the door, a cold gust of wind wrapped around her.
“Damn it.”
She scowled. She had meant to exit through the corridor, but blinded by fury, she had opened the door leading to the rear garden.
With her hand on the doorknob, Rosella froze. Grady was still inside the archive, quietly gathering the scattered receipts. The sight of him sparked another wave of irritation.
She hadn’t meant for things to deteriorate like this. Grady was still her best option.
There was a time she had abandoned dreams of becoming empress and seriously considered marrying him. If only Grady hadn’t looked at her like she was filth… things might have turned out differently. Their situation wouldn’t have become so wretched.
It was all Grady Cryber’s fault.
Trying to ignore him, she turned her head. The wind lashed at her face. After sunset, it was colder than expected. Since she had dismissed both her maid and attendants for this meeting, no one knew she was outside.
As she shivered and turned her head again—
“Ah…”
The man who had locked eyes with her looked startled, brushing her hair aside. He stared at Rosella with his mouth slightly open, as if dumbfounded.
His gaze irritated her. That a man would meet the eyes of the Empress without bowing—it was insolent.
“You’ll hurt those delicate fingers if you grip the handle so tightly, my lady.”
Yes, she had gripped the doorknob tightly in anger. But not enough to injure herself. And what was with that insolent tone, calling her my lady?
“And who might you be?”
“My name is Florian Kells. I run a small merchant company in the Kingdom of Bekel. May I have the honor of your name, my lady?”
At the name Bekel, a glint flickered in Rosella’s eyes. That was the kingdom that had once sent a marriage proposal to Claire Raymond.
“I had assumed I wouldn’t need to introduce myself within these palace walls. So what is your intention, young master?”
“Pardon?”
Rosella lifted her chin, scowling arrogantly. Something about Florian seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
A merchant heir, maybe?
But he looked too young to be a proper merchant lord.
Still, it was absurd that someone from an unknown company could wander freely through the imperial palace. Clearly, he held some official status.
“If you were invited to the imperial capital, you must hold a position of some sort. And yet, you don’t even know who I am?”
“…Could it be… Her Majesty the Empress?”
At that, Rosella didn’t bother hiding her disgust.
She ignored Florian and glanced back inside the window. Grady was already gone.
She turned away. She intended to return through the corridor.
“Damn it.”
Rosella scowled. For some reason, the door was locked from the inside. Behind her, the idiot merchant from Bekel was still hanging around.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. I never imagined I would encounter you in a place like this.”
Florian bowed deeply. His earlier casual manner was gone, replaced by proper decorum.
“Forget it.”
Rosella brushed off her arm. The cold wind was getting to her. Especially since she had intentionally waited outside before Grady arrived, the chill felt deeper.
“When I first saw you, I thought you were someone I knew. That’s why I was disrespectful.”
The rear garden was empty and silent after dark, with only the cold wind blowing. Still, Rosella paused at his words.
“Someone you knew? You must’ve been in the Empire for a while, then.”
“Yes. I recently attended a very interesting wedding. I met the woman there.”
“Interesting wedding?”
A chill passed through her. Rosella turned fully to face Florian.
“The words I just said to Your Majesty—those were the same ones I said to her.”
“You’ll hurt those delicate fingers if you grip the handle so tightly, my lady.”
Rosella’s eyes widened in realization. At last, she recognized him as the flirt from Grady’s wedding.
But a merchant from Bekel? The revelation of his true identity sent chills down her spine. And yet Florian had recognized her instantly.
“Oh, you must be cold.”
Florian quickly took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. He moved so swiftly, she didn’t have time to refuse.
“…I’m fine.”
“We should return. You’ll catch a cold out here.”
Florian offered to guide her. As she followed a step behind him, watching his broad back, Rosella spoke.
“That woman… what about her reminded you of me?”
Everyone at that wedding wore the same mask. Her dress had been purposefully plain—nothing eye-catching. Something forgettable, someone no one would remember.
Yet Florian had identified her without hesitation.
As they walked under the moonlight, Florian turned back and smiled brightly.
The winter wind howled softly. His voice was barely above a whisper—so faint that one could easily miss it. But he had clearly waited for the question.
“The way she turned and disappeared—she looked like a butterfly fleeing from the wind.”
“It’s winter. Butterflies don’t fly in winter.”
“Maybe that’s why she left such a vivid memory.”
In the dark, desolate garden—where even the wind felt like it could cut to the bone—there were no butterflies.
And yet, Florian’s words left Rosella’s heart suddenly warm.
