TDAF 30

Chapter 30

Scarlett thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep deeply. But she hadn’t considered her own weak stamina, the kind that came from always being shut away in her workshop. After working to the point of draining even her mental strength the day before, when she finally opened her eyes in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky.

Still half-dazed with sleep, Scarlett climbed out of bed. She glanced absentmindedly at her wrist—and saw a bandage wrapped around it.

“……”

Staring at it blankly, Scarlett muttered,

“I must have done it while half-asleep.”

Otherwise, there was no way she’d be wearing such a sloppily wrapped bandage. Considering how blissfully deep her sleep had been, it wasn’t strange to think that she might have woken up halfway, bandaged her wrist in a light doze, and then fallen back asleep.

After all, no one but her could have done it. Viktor wasn’t the type to do such tender things, and besides—he was good at everything. He would never have wrapped something so clumsily.

Still gazing at the bandage, Scarlett finished getting ready to go out and left her bedroom. When she stepped outside to collect some gravel, the pleasant autumn sunlight of the south shone brightly.

The airmen were each focused on their training, and in front of them she spotted Viktor’s back as he watched. Viktor Dampfelt, in his handsome navy officer’s uniform, looked like a magnificent thoroughbred stallion. His tailored black trousers emphasized the long, beautifully muscled lines of his thighs, exuding a raw, almost sensual allure.

“Good day, ma’am.”
“Good day!”

Young men greeted Scarlett cheerfully as they passed, looking energized, perhaps just by the fact that they now had an engineer capable of fixing their engines.

Viktor turned toward Scarlett and spoke.

“We leave at dawn tomorrow. Get some more sleep.”
“I’m going to get materials.”
“Send my men.”
“They’re your men, not mine.”

At her words, Viktor clicked his tongue.

Then he gestured toward someone in the distance, and soon one of his men led out a horse from the stable—a beautiful black steed. Viktor helped her onto it first, then mounted behind her.

“You’re too close.”
“Mm.”

Scarlett decided she wouldn’t waste any more time resisting Viktor’s help.

She hadn’t ridden horses—other than ponies as a child—so being on horseback felt awkward and unsettling. But once the horse started moving, she found herself calming down.

That was because Viktor had one arm firmly wrapped around her waist, steady as if she were bound with iron. His body seemed almost superhuman. Scarlett, who had been keeping her eyes shut tightly, finally opened them against the gentle breeze. When Viktor leaned down a little closer, she grew self-conscious about how near his body was.

After a short while, they reached a river below a waterfall.

Once she dismounted, Scarlett rolled up her sleeve and looked at her wrist.

“It’s come undone.”

Noticing the bandage, Viktor turned his head away.

“Did I really do this in my sleep? Can I even trust my own memory?” she asked.

“…I did it.”

“Don’t lie. Someone like you, who does everything perfectly, wouldn’t have wrapped it so sloppily.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Scarlett blinked in surprise at his words. Then, after another glance at the bandage, she muttered,

“Wow. Looking at it again… it’s actually done pretty well.”

After saying that as if praising him, she quickly turned toward the river. She thought she sensed a smile from Viktor behind her, but it must have been her imagination—he wasn’t one to smile easily.

Taking just a few steps, Scarlett picked up a stone from the riverbank. It had quartz-like crystals embedded within it.

“Wow…”

The stone glittered brilliantly under the sunlight, astonishingly beautiful. And she remembered—these were the same stones that had always piled up in her parents’ workshop.

At the same moment, she recalled her father crushing stones with a small pestle, then panning them. The sifted pieces would be ground again, hardened, and eventually become crucial components inside Crimson clocks. It struck her that she hadn’t been doing this at all.

Scarlett stared at the stone and said,

“After my parents died, every Crimson clock that’s been made… they’re all fakes.”

The flood of memories gave her a sharp headache. She swayed unsteadily in the river, and Viktor hurriedly caught her.

A moment later, having calmed down, she lifted her head.

“Sorry. It just hit me all of a sudden.”

Freeing her arm from his grip, Scarlett stepped into the river to gather gravel.

Though the southern climate was warmer than the capital, the water was cold. Scarlett dipped her hands into the stream, pulling out gravel and filling her bag. She realized she couldn’t carry much at once—and also that returning to this spot again would be nearly impossible. With those thoughts conflicting, she finally gave in to the latter and stuffed the bag to the brim.

When she tried to push it out of the water, however, it was too heavy to budge. After several failed attempts, Viktor moved to lift it, but Scarlett stopped him.

“I’ll do it.”
“How?”
“I’ll put wheels on it. That’s what I do every day.”

Looking around, Scarlett found some wood and, using the tools she always carried, began carving wheels.

Viktor simply stood there, watching her silently.

Just as she promised, Scarlett quickly fashioned wheels, cleverly fitting the wood so the bag could be transported without even using adhesive.

But the wheels didn’t roll well outside the dirt. Watching her prepare to make yet another modification, Viktor, who had been stone-faced all this time, let out a faint chuckle.

“…Why are you laughing?” Scarlett shot him a glance.

“You look like a squirrel hoarding acorns.”
“How do I look anything like that?”
“In general.”

With that, Viktor lifted her by the waist and set her back on the horse.

“The sun’s setting. Let’s go.”
“What about my bag—”
“My men will take care of it.”

Sure enough, as soon as they mounted, several men appeared and retrieved the bag.

Scarlett, flustered, asked in a mortified voice,

“Wait… how long have they been watching us?”
“Since you left the bedroom.”
“Even when I was picking up gravel?”
“They must have been very uncomfortable watching.”
“That must have looked so undignified to you, like I wasn’t noble at all.”

Viktor glanced at her once and replied,

“You talk like you were ever noble to begin with.”
“I tried.”
“It’s not about effort.”

He pulled her closer with one arm as he spoke.

“I never understand you.”

Scarlett lifted her head, startled by the unfamiliar tone in his voice. It sounded as though he admitted, even slightly, that some of it was his fault. For Viktor Dampfelt—the man of flawless perfection—it was strangely out of character.

The arm around her tightened.

They spent another night in the same room. But this time, she wasn’t tired, and sleep didn’t come easily. Scarlett lay in bed early, only pretending to sleep.

At dawn the next day, she left the air base with Viktor’s unit. They boarded a train toward the capital, watching the sun rise and set along the way.

On the return trip, facing him, Scarlett asked,

“There’s something I wanted to ask. The tax audit on Crimson clocks—was that your doing?”
“Yeah.”

Viktor answered while flipping through a book. Then, after a pause, he lowered the book and looked at her.

“So, the clocks are faulty?”
“Yeah. Only the ones that have parts from my uncle’s Version 5.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Recall them. All of them.”
“Still doing reckless things, I see.”

To that, Scarlett replied firmly,

“This is only right.”
“What’s so right about it?”
“I’m the Crimson family’s daughter. You expect me to just sit back while faulty clocks are sold?”
“Let it be. If you keep quiet, no one will ever know.”

Scarlett said firmly,

“How could no one know? I know. My late parents would know. And the people using the clocks will know.”
“You’re not in your right mind.”

At his slip, Scarlett said quietly,

“Yeah. You already knew. That’s why you sent me to the convent.”
“You know I didn’t send you there for that reason.”
“A hundred days is a long time. If you’d cared about me even a little, you would’ve visited once.”
“You betrayed me!”

Viktor’s voice rose sharply, so much that the Rubidhof officers in the first-class carriage stood up as if on cue and drifted toward the smoking room.

Scarlett thought he must rarely raise his voice like this. He was still visibly angry. She, on the other hand, spoke with a calmness that surprised even her.

“You’re still upset you couldn’t return to the royal family because of me? Even after I spent a hundred days in the convent?”
“I forgave you. But I can’t forget.”

Scarlett pressed both hands to her chest, as though to ease the tightness there. Then, forcing a smile, she said,

“Good. Because I’ll never forget those hundred days either. How you never came for me, how I suffered every day. I’ll never forget, not until I die.”
“……”
“Me too…”

Scarlett’s breath quickened, and she clutched at the window frame.

“Scarlett?” Viktor grabbed her hand.

“Ah…”

Thankfully, she soon regained herself. After some deep breaths, she looked up—but quickly glanced around awkwardly.

“Viktor.” She blinked, then asked, looking at him,

“Where are we?”
“…What?”
“Why am I on a train?”

She looked around, startled, but then glanced out the window with a faint smile.

“Still, this is nice. My first time seeing the plains.”
“……”
“Why that face, my love?”

Viktor could only stare at her in silence. After a long pause, he finally managed to speak.

“Scarlett.”
“Mm?”
“We’re divorced.”
“…What?”

Scarlett repeated the word blankly, then fell into thought. After a moment of daze, she came back to herself.

“Oh, right. I remember now. We are divorced. We just came back from the air base. Lately, I’ve been like this.”