Chapter 61
“Right. It’s all Yulian… Yulian’s fault. She slipped out of my hands because of him. She looked at me like that because of him. It’s because that bastard Yulian got in the way….”
“E-excuse me…”
The caretaker called Zeppelin’s name, but when their eyes met again, he flinched and stumbled backward.
There was an unmistakably dangerous, murderous aura emanating from Zeppelin’s face.
For a moment, the caretaker saw an illusion: those pale blue eyes had turned blood-red.
“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you, Yulian Johannes.”
Leaving only those words behind, Zeppelin hurriedly mounted his horse.
Thunder shook his eardrums, but Zeppelin heard nothing.
“Haah… haah…”
Inside the room filled with heat, Rebecca and Yulian finally pulled away from each other.
The two of them stared silently at the floor.
Their slowly returning rationality struggled to make sense of what had just happened.
Yulian was the first to realize.
His face blazed red in an instant.
He held his almost purplish face in both hands, jaw slack.
“W-we just…”
Rebecca snapped back to her senses at his reaction.
So, it finally happened.
She hadn’t been blind to the possibility. Only the timing was sooner than she had expected.
Once they entered a contract marriage, it was natural they would share the same room and the same bed.
With a young man full of vigor, it was obvious something would eventually happen.
But she hadn’t thought she’d be swept away too.
If she had just refused, Yulian would have stopped—but she hadn’t.
Why…
Rebecca blamed her weakened state of mind.
She had been too worried about Yulian’s reaction, and when he responded positively, she simply let herself go with it.
That thought alone made her feel lighter.
Yes. It was just a reckless slip, swept up by the moment.
As long as she was careful not to let such a thing happen again, it would be fine.
Rebecca patted Yulian on the shoulder.
“Yes. We just kissed.”
Yulian’s face looked ready to explode.
He covered half his face with one hand and pushed her away with the other.
“How can you say that so casually?”
“Well, it already happened. We were both emotional, so it couldn’t be helped. Don’t tell me you’re going to break the contract over this?”
Rebecca frowned slightly, and Yulian flared up.
The woman who had stolen his first kiss—though, technically, he had moved first—was unbelievably shameless.
Just recalling those moments from minutes ago made his face burn again.
His golden eyes glowed like ripened wheat under the sun.
Rebecca, finding his reactions amusing, suddenly felt mischievous.
She wanted to repay him for all the times he had barged in uninvited and flustered her.
“What, are you embarrassed after you kissed me first?”
Rebecca leaned her face close to his on purpose.
Now that she felt more in control, even if another mishap happened, she was sure she could avoid it.
With newfound confidence, Rebecca pressed forward boldly.
“W-what…!”
Yulian tried to dodge her gaze, but she pursued him relentlessly.
The more their eyes met, the hotter his face became.
Their little standoff ended only when Yulian found himself cornered against the window frame.
Rebecca’s fingers tickled his side.
“You started it first. How are you going to take responsibility, hmm? Duke?”
“You… were you always like this?”
“Like what?”
Rebecca leaned into him lightly.
As her lips came closer again, Yulian panicked and shoved her away.
“Stop it!”
“Fine. Sorry.”
To show she was done joking, Rebecca raised her hands and stepped back.
But Yulian was left reeling—humiliated from being teased, exhilarated by what had happened, and unable to hate Rebecca despite her mischievousness.
“Ha! You really…”
“I said I’m sorry. Hmm? Yulian?”
Rebecca once more brought her face near his.
His body felt hot—no, she felt hot too.
The heat between them was something no cold raindrops seeping through the window could cool.
“Oh dear. You’re all wet now.”
She steadied him, who had been half leaning out of the window frame, and smiled sweetly.
Yulian stared blankly at her face.
Just as he leaned forward again—
“Becky! Bring the Duke down. Dinner’s ready!”
A booming voice rose from downstairs.
Yulian straightened at once, jolted as if caught red-handed.
He cast Rebecca a look of pure reproach.
“What have you done to me?!”
Rebecca feigned innocence.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything.”
“If you didn’t… then why would I…”
Unable to finish the sentence, Yulian clamped his mouth shut with his own hand.
Rebecca decided to stop teasing and soothed him instead.
“Come on, let’s go down together. My father’s actually a pretty good cook.”
“Tell him something urgent came up.”
“What? Wait, what are you—kyaah! Yulian!”
Rebecca shrieked as Yulian leapt out of the window.
Had there been glass, it would have shattered from the force.
Even though it was the second floor—high enough to break a bone—Yulian landed like a cat on muddy ground.
“I’ll borrow a horse for a while!” he shouted into the house.
Before anyone could respond, he grabbed the reins of a black-maned horse from the stable.
The horse resisted fiercely, but calmed at his whispered words.
Mounting swiftly, Yulian rode off across the fields, letting the pounding rain wash over his burning body.
Rebecca stood frozen, mouth slightly agape, until he disappeared from sight.
When he was finally too far to see, she slid down against the wall.
Embarrassment crashed over her.
Her cheeks burning red, she cupped them with both hands.
She realized today, for the first time, that when she was flustered, she teased others even more.
Thinking back on her own brazenness, she stomped her feet.
I must have looked like some lecherous drunk!
She leaned her head against the wall and sighed.
She could already guess how Yulian would think of her—and the thought was mortifying.
I’ll be kicking my blanket in shame for a year…
Yet her fingers still lingered on her lips.
After days of pushing him away, Yulian had held her without hesitation and kissed her.
And when he looked at her, it was as though he was beholding the most beautiful thing in the world.
His eyes had burned with longing.
Just in case, Rebecca sniffed her arm.
No—the stench hadn’t vanished. Nothing about her had changed.
If anything had changed…
No. I’m still Rebecca.
She rose slowly and sat before her vanity.
In the mirror, a girl’s face was flushed rose-red.
For some reason, she didn’t find that girl as repulsive as before.
A chill of foreboding gripped her heart.
“No…”
Rebecca clutched the lace over her chest.
Her trembling hands betrayed her unease, yet her eyes gleamed with hope.
Thunder rumbled, like fireworks celebrating.
“Damn, it’s really pouring.”
On the wall, guard Ferguson grumbled, leaning against the stone.
Rain-duty was always the worst: damp armor, clammy skin, and above all—madmen who seemed drawn to storms.
It was as if rain stirred madness itself. Not a day passed quietly.
Just last week, he had wrestled a naked man who tried to dash through the city gates.
Ferguson shuddered at the memory.
Still, tonight had been uneventful so far.
At this late hour, traffic was sparse, and only he and the rookie guard, Charles, were posted atop the wall.
The rest were napping in the barracks until the next shift.
Ferguson prayed the peace would last until he could collapse into a warm bed.
Charles yawned.
“Man, we’re lucky tonight. They warned us rain shifts were the worst, but nothing’s happening.”
Ferguson jumped and clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Idiot! Don’t you know ‘quiet’ is a cursed word? As soon as you say that—”
Before he could finish, Charles pointed.
“Uh… someone’s coming.”
“What? Oh, hell.”
Ferguson raised his spyglass.
Through sheets of rain, a drenched man on a white horse was galloping toward them.
“At that speed, in this weather? He’s definitely insane. Stay put!”
Charles grumbled and returned to his station.
Ferguson shouted into the amplifying stone before the rider reached the wall.
“Identify yourself! You’ve entered Duke Johannes’s territory!”
Luckily, the man wasn’t entirely incoherent.
Struggling to keep his eyes open against the downpour, he reined in and bellowed:
“I am Count Zeppelin Devonshire! I demand to see Yulian Johannes at once! Open the gates!”
“What?”
The man’s arrogant tone, brazenly shouting the Duke’s name, made Ferguson’s brow twitch.
His voice sharpened.
“Then show your identification crest!”
“I have none!”
“Hah! Look at this lunatic.”
So much for a quiet night.
Ferguson groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Then go back and fetch it, and come again!”
“There’s no time! I said open the gate!”
“Wow. You’re right, Senior—he’s properly crazy.”
“You little punk, now’s not the time for commentary.”
This was trouble.
One look into that man’s eyes told Ferguson he wouldn’t back down.
Resigned, Ferguson sighed.
Just then, Charles tugged on his sleeve.
