Chapter 7~
Water dripped steadily from Theros’s disheveled black hair as he looked down at Cecilia.
A droplet hanging from the tip of his hair fell onto Cecilia’s cheek, and she lifted the eyelids she had tightly shut.
“Cecilia, are you alright?”
Good heavens! Ever since he found out she had taken the potion, Theros had been speaking down to her the entire time—yet now he was using formal speech. Did falling into the water really change a person this much? Stunned, Cecilia struggled to gather her senses.
Overcoming the heavy headache and the chills sweeping through her body, she pushed herself halfway up. Her lips, turned pale blue, trembled uncontrollably.
“Who are you?”
At her words, Theros’s mouth fell open, and the many expressions that had been on his face just moments ago vanished. Though his expression disappeared, the deep despair on his face—like someone sinking into a bottomless pit—was unmistakable.
“You… don’t remember?”
“It’s just that you suddenly started speaking so politely. I wondered if you were really the Theros I know.”
Seeing the unguarded look of shock on his face, Cecilia decided she had gone far enough with the joke and stepped back. Saying something so frivolous in a situation like this—she wasn’t entirely in her right mind when she said it.
But Theros paid no attention to her explanation and suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace. She could smell his fresh, forest-like scent.
“I thought you’d lost your memory—or that something had gone wrong—!”
Startled, Cecilia tried to push against his solid shoulders, but he didn’t budge.
“L-Lord Theros… I’m fine, so please let go.”
Only then did Theros release her, though he still held her shoulders as he carefully examined her face.
As a result, Cecilia had no choice but to face him up close.
Droplets clung to the tips of his long eyelashes. The expressions that had vanished earlier returned, now filled with worry and concern.
His entire face was wet from jumping into the water, but the droplets trailing down his cheeks stood out strangely.
Is he… crying? Because of me?
No way. The rigid Theros Jeminique wouldn’t shed tears over something like this.
Even as she told herself that, the guilt growing in Cecilia’s heart began to swell. She also felt relieved she had refused Hadel’s suggestion to use a memory-erasing potion.
I couldn’t do something so cruel to a man who would fall into such despair if I lost my memory.
Seeing his once-composed expression crumble made him seem rather pitiful, and Cecilia let out a small sigh. Her own situation was miserable, but Theros must also be confused by the emotions caused by the potion.
Without realizing it, she reached out and wiped away the droplet on his face—whether it was a tear or not.
At her touch, Theros flinched in surprise, then soon closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against her palm.
The gesture seemed to ask for more, leaving Cecilia flustered, yet she didn’t pull her hand away immediately.
Though his cheek should have been cold after being in the water, it felt strangely warm.
Then, with a soft sound, a hot, gentle sensation brushed against her palm.
Only then did Cecilia hurriedly pull her hand away from his cheek.
After turning the boat and disembarking by the lakeside, the two found themselves at a loss due to their soaking wet clothes. Though it was midsummer, Cecilia’s dress clung damply to her skin, doing nothing to help with her chills.
“Cecilia. It would be best to remove your dress and dry it.”
At his words, Cecilia, her teeth chattering, clutched the hem of her dress tightly as if to refuse. Even so, Theros firmly pressed his point.
“At least take off your outer layer. I brought a blanket—wrap yourself in it. Once it’s somewhat dry, we’ll leave immediately. If you ride like this, you’ll get a fever.”
For him, this was already a patient and calm attempt at persuasion. Even so, seeing Cecilia shake her head stubbornly, frustration rose within him—but he couldn’t scold her when she was already frightened.
In the end, he draped a thick blanket over her wet dress and tied it tightly at the front to keep out even the slightest breeze. Then he helped her mount his black horse and climbed up behind her.
As Cecilia’s back pressed against his chest, they could feel each other’s quiet breaths. The unexpected closeness made Cecilia shift awkwardly.
But Theros paid no mind to her embarrassment. Instead, he wrapped around her from behind, almost enclosing her in his arms, and gathered the reins.
The horse carrying the two slowly began heading toward the estate.
“Won’t Whitey get lonely?”
Looking back, Cecilia glanced at the white horse tied alone in the forest. Since they couldn’t take both horses, leaving one behind bothered her.
“You’ve already given it a name. Once we arrive, I’ll send a servant to bring it back.”
“Um, Lord Theros… you’ve been speaking formally this whole time. It feels like you’re a different person.”
Half curious and half teasing, Cecilia spoke. It felt strange that the man who had been so intimidating—talking about military trials—was now treating her so carefully.
A sigh, as if in disbelief, came from behind.
“Judging by your jokes, you must have some energy left.”
Theros replied steadfastly in formal speech.
“Aren’t you cold, Lord Theros? You fell into the water too.”
At her question, Theros was silent for a moment.
“Lord Theros?”
“…You’re even worrying about me? On the battlefield, I’ve been through far worse. I’m not one to die easily, so save your concern.”
After speaking, Theros pressed himself closer against her back. It didn’t seem to carry any ulterior meaning—just a gesture to ease her cold, even a little.
As the horse moved, their bodies swayed, and a strange drowsiness began to wash over her.
It’s warm.
The warmth behind her made her forget the damp chill.
Having experienced the freezing cold of falling into the water, Cecilia instinctively leaned back, seeking warmth as she fought off sleep.
“Oh, you might not believe this, but… I saw a woman with red hair in the water earlier. Do you think that was Daphne?”
“That’s just a legend.”
“Right… just a legend. I must have imagined it.”
Cecilia nodded, thinking it impossible herself.
“I’ll have the lake thoroughly investigated.”
Even though it might have been nonsense, Theros didn’t dismiss it and instead promised seriously.
The moment they entered the mansion, a large dog at the entrance barked loudly and ran toward them.
Its fluffy fur covered its entire face, making it hard to tell if it could even see properly. Standing on its hind legs, it was large enough to reach Cecilia’s chest.
As the dog jumped excitedly between its drenched master and Cecilia, Theros calmed it.
“Rox, enough. It’s nothing, so stop making a fuss.”
At his words, Rox seemed to understand and stopped jumping, merely circling around them.
“Are you afraid of dogs? If the owner likes someone, this one will follow too.”
Seeing the look in his eyes—as if telling her not to worry—Cecilia smiled awkwardly. It sounded as though Rox would soon come to like her, and that she would continue to be around him.
“Master, you’ve returned—good heavens!”
Seeing the two soaked, the servants hurried into action.
The maids helped Cecilia out of her wet clothes and prepared a warm bath. While she soaked in the tub to shake off the cold, they served her warm tea.
Since the master of the house was an unmarried man, there were no sleeping clothes for a noblewoman, so Cecilia had no choice but to wear one of Theros’s oversized robes.
Thanks to the efficient maids, she soon dried her hair and lay comfortably on the bed.
Rolling around under the covers, she enjoyed the soft texture against her bare skin. Though it wasn’t her home but a guest room in someone else’s estate, the attentive care of the maids made her feel strangely at ease.
That was, until Theros entered the room.
At the knock, Cecilia assumed it was a maid and told them to come in.
But the sound of footsteps entering the room was far heavier than a maid’s, and when she turned her head, she stammered in surprise.
“L-Lord Theros! Why are you here?!”
She pulled the blanket up to her chin even higher. Though it was hidden beneath the covers, the fact that she was wearing his robe made her feel embarrassed.
Theros looked down at her with a blunt expression. Though it couldn’t be true, his gaze felt as if it could see right through the blanket, making Cecilia instinctively squirm.
“I came to see if you were resting well.”
He placed the tray he had brought onto the bedside table and pulled a chair beside the bed to sit.
“O-Of course! Thanks to your care.”
Flustered, Cecilia turned her gaze away to hide her flushed cheeks.
Theros reached out and gently placed his hand on her forehead.
Though his touch was careful, the unfamiliar situation made Cecilia shut her eyes tightly, and seeing her reaction, Theros withdrew his hand.
“You seem to have a slight fever.”
“I’ll be fine after some sleep!”
Cecilia answered a bit too brightly on purpose. She did feel slightly feverish from exhaustion, but his earlier actions had also made her feel warmer.
“I’ve sent a carriage to Serin House to bring a maid to attend to you. She’ll bring the clothes you need, so please bear with it for now. It would be best if you stay here tonight—I’ll also prepare a place for the maid to sleep.”
At the words stay the night, Cecilia’s eyes widened.
She tried to sit up abruptly, but remembering she was wearing his robe, she frantically waved her hands from under the covers.
“Stay here? I can’t impose like that! I’ll return to Serin House before it gets dark.”
At the word impose, Theros’s eyebrow twitched.
He gently took her hands resting on the blanket, holding them in both of his as if in prayer. His large, warm hands wrapped firmly around her smaller ones.
“You’re going to be the mistress of this estate. I can’t let you ride in a carriage while you’re ill.”
His low voice carried firm resolve—he had no intention of sending her back like this.
“Earlier, I thought I had lost you, and it felt like my world was collapsing. I realized just how precious you are to me. From now on, I’ll treat you with respect.”
Theros spoke seriously, voicing emotions born from the potion—so convincingly that, if Cecilia let her guard down even a little, she might mistake them for his true feelings.
