Chapter 4
Deminic stood beneath the tree with his arms crossed, leaning against it as if he were in his own home. His crimson eyes glowed vividly in the darkness as he stared straight at her.
Looking down at him, Bellona couldn’t help feeling utterly dumbfounded.
“What are you even doing here?”
At her quiet, disbelieving murmur, Rose, who had just finished making the bed, looked over.
“Did you say you saw a cat, Miss?”
“No. Never mind. Thanks, Rose. I guess I’m a little tired after going to the temple today. I think I’ll go to bed early. You can leave for the night.”
Bellona quickly gestured toward the door, blocking Rose before she could approach the window.
She couldn’t understand what Deminic was thinking, standing out there so openly.
“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you like some tea or something else to drink?”
“No. Thanks for your hard work today.”
Bellona smiled sweetly, every bit the slightly immature yet innocent and lovable noble lady.
Only after confirming that Rose had finally left and closed the door behind her did Bellona let her smile disappear and glance down through the window.
Apparently, Deminic had heard their conversation through the open window because he was now standing directly below it.
The scene looked absurdly similar to a prince arriving to rescue a princess trapped in a tower.
Resting her chin on the windowsill, Bellona spoke casually.
“If you’ve come to rescue me, Prince, you’re wasting your time. I happen to enjoy living in my tower.”
“Wouldn’t forbidden lovers make for a more romantic story?”
Bellona immediately gave up trying to outtalk him.
Honestly, attempting to win a battle of words against this man had been her mistake in the first place.
“…What kind of manners involve climbing over someone else’s walls in the middle of the night?”
“No one ever taught me manners. I didn’t exactly grow up with anyone around to teach me.”
And yet, despite his words, the elegant tilt of his head carried a natural grace that made it impossible to deny his royal blood.
I guess things like that really are innate.
No matter how many times she was reborn, Deminic remained an infuriating person.
Wasn’t it unfair?
Some people spent years polishing themselves to achieve elegance and refinement, while others were simply born with it.
Still pouting inwardly, Bellona continued.
“Explain why you’re here. Otherwise, I’m closing the window and going back ins—”
The room suddenly plunged into darkness.
An instant later, she sensed someone standing beside her.
Bellona immediately realized he had used dark magic.
After living through so many lifetimes, her senses had become unnaturally sharp. She could faintly recognize the murky, unpleasant aura unique to dark magic.
“You should be more careful.”
Startled, she instinctively stepped backward, only to lose her balance.
A strong arm wrapped around her waist and steadied her.
At the same time, light returned to the room.
“What the—”
Bellona tried to pull away from him, but the scent of blood suddenly reached her.
Without realizing it, she placed a hand on his arm and leaned closer.
“Are you hurt?”
She lifted the black cloak draped over his shoulders and froze.
His white shirt was completely soaked in blood.
How did this happen?
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Deminic injured, but he wasn’t someone who got hurt easily.
As she reached for his shirt to examine the wound, a warm hand stopped her.
His skin, usually cool to the touch, was noticeably warmer now.
“You’re being awfully forward, Lady Bellona Rosentin.”
His voice was as relaxed and teasing as ever, but the speed with which he blocked her hand reminded her of a cat reacting instinctively.
He looked as though he were wrapped in layers of caution, ready to run at any moment.
“You’re the one who came to me first.”
Holding onto the hem of his shirt, Bellona spoke in a calm, soothing tone.
“Let me see it. Don’t tell me you’ve been ignoring it without treating it properly.”
“I don’t need treatment.”
Deminic stared at her as though carefully studying every reaction she made.
“It’s nothing.”
She felt his grip loosen slightly.
“How stupid were you at the temple to end up getting hurt like this?”
“I thought you were worried about me. Were you actually just mocking my stupidity?”
To be fair, the moment she’d seen the blood, her heart had dropped.
And yes, what she’d felt had been much closer to concern.
But admitting that somehow felt like losing.
So Bellona composed herself and answered casually.
“Obviously.”
“…At the temple, I hypnotized the High Priest and erased his memories. Then, on my way out, I happened to run into some Holy Knights who were returning.”
“What?”
“I was trying not to kill them, which made things more complicated. People who use divine power are just as irritating as ever.”
Bellona stared at him blankly as he summarized the day’s events with complete indifference.
Then she practically shouted.
“Are you insane?”
Deminic wasn’t invincible.
Normally, he could recover from almost any injury with ease.
But divine power worked like poison against him. Instead of healing quickly, his wounds recovered more slowly than those of an ordinary person while simultaneously eating away at his body.
“You told me not to kill anyone. If I lose control of my strength, they don’t just die—they turn into pulp. So I held back.”
He sounded as though he expected praise.
Bellona couldn’t hide her disbelief.
Had Deminic always been this ridiculous?
“I said self-defense was fine! If someone’s trying to kill you, you’re supposed to fight back properly!”
She smacked his arm as she scolded him.
Immediately, he let out a low groan.
“Ugh—”
He staggered and collapsed onto her bed.
Since she had been half-trapped in his embrace, Bellona ended up sitting beside him.
For the first time in all her lives, she was seeing Deminic reveal such obvious weakness.
The sight caught her so completely off guard that an apology slipped out before she could stop herself.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Who would have thought she’d ever apologize to this man?
She really had lived far too long.
Pushing aside that absurd thought, Bellona seized the opportunity.
This time, she grabbed his shirt and started undoing the buttons.
“I told you this level of enthusiasm is a little troubling.”
“…Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
She didn’t even have time to respond to his nonsense.
When she removed the hastily wrapped bandages from his shoulder, she finally saw the wound beneath them.
And it was horrifying.
Her trembling fingers hovered over the long gash carved across his shoulder.
The wound seemed to heal itself, as if time were reversing.
But then something blocked the healing process, causing the flesh to split open again.
It repeated the cycle over and over.
The skin around it had turned a dark bluish-black, almost as though it had been poisoned.
That had to be the effect of divine power.
“This… if it stays like this…”
“It’s fine. As long as I stop the bleeding, it’ll heal eventually. Slowly, but it will.”
Deminic spoke lazily, as if it genuinely didn’t bother him.
But Bellona knew exactly what it felt like to suffer a fatal injury.
Rather than feeling relieved, she found herself empathizing with the pain.
Her face twisted involuntarily.
“And you still came here?”
“Not despite it.”
He paused.
“Because of it.”
Without offering any further explanation, he removed his cloak and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
Then he pulled off the blood-soaked shirt completely.
Well-defined abdominal muscles came into view, followed by a broad, solid chest.
While rewrapping the bandage around his shoulder, he caught her staring.
“It’d be nice if you’d at least pretend to be embarrassed.”
“You’re the one stripping in front of me.”
Bellona answered without even blinking.
In truth, she was a little flustered.
But there was no way she would ever let Deminic see that.
More importantly, she absolutely refused to lose a petty argument.
“A fair point.”
Chuckling quietly, he walked over to the window and stood there, silently watching the darkness outside as though keeping an eye on their surroundings.
And then she saw his back.
The countless scars covering it left even Bellona speechless.
His broad back shifted as his muscles moved, making the scars stand out even more.
They looked like whip marks.
Deep, torn wounds that had reopened over and over again before finally healing into rough, uneven scars.
Don’t tell me this is what she meant when she said the priests abused him.
Why…?
And this happened when he was still a child.
Naturally, she’d never had an opportunity to see Deminic shirtless before.
The reality was far more shocking than the simple information she’d known.
“He was abused by the priests while growing up in the temple.”
Knowing it as a fact and seeing it with her own eyes were entirely different things.
“What are these… scars?”
Without thinking, Bellona reached out.
She couldn’t bring herself to touch the scars directly, so her hand settled gently on his uninjured shoulder instead.
Deminic turned to look at her.
Seeing the concern written all over her face, he let out a quiet sigh.
“Whip marks. The priests gave them to me when I was a child. I suppose it’s not exactly a pleasant sight for a noble lady.”
“It’s not my mental health I’m worried about…”
Her voice faded.
As Deminic simply stood there, watching her without moving, Bellona slowly traced the scars across his back with her fingertips.
The rough, uneven ridges felt much harsher than they looked.
The scars branched endlessly, crossing and overlapping one another.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine how many times he’d been whipped.
It was as though she could see it happening before her eyes.
Before one wound could heal, another lash would tear it open again.
Fresh blood.
Broken scabs.
Endless repetition.
“It must have hurt.”
There were countless things she wanted to say.
But the suffering belonged to a past she could no longer change.
In the end, those four quiet words were all she could manage.
By the time her hand reached the middle of his back, Deminic suddenly caught her wrist.
“…?”
Startled, Bellona looked up.
Only then did she realize that the distance between them had become far, far closer than it should have been.
