Chapter 73
I’m Home, My Lady
“That’s when the Duke helped me. Thanks to him, I was released. From then on, I quietly began assisting with his work. Of course, I kept it a secret from my sister.”
“So your sister doesn’t even know about you and Ruan?”
“No. She absolutely loathes nobles. After what happened to her at nine years old, she can’t stand them… so I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.”
Understandable. At that age, such a terrifying experience would scar anyone.
“And the reason I keep working now is to save enough money. Someday, I want to open a sweets shop with her.”
“A sweets shop? Cat, don’t tell me you’re the one who’ll be making the sweets.”
At that, Marican laughed, picturing Cat burning everything she touched. Cat flushed red with embarrassment.
“Boss, don’t tease me! I pick things up quickly, but cooking is impossible for me. My sister Lily, though—she’s incredible. Almost as skilled as you, boss.”
“Really? That’s impressive.”
Marican smiled as she listened. Her body slowly relaxed, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.
“Cat, someday… introduce me to your sister too. I’d like—”
“Yes, boss, of course. Later. Oh? You’ve fallen asleep already? Well, no wonder. After everything that happened today, anyone else would’ve fainted from shock, but you stayed calm. Truly, you’re amazing.”
Cat gently pulled the blanket up to Marican’s neck, then slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
…
The next morning.
Marican woke to the sound of barking.
Woof! Woof! Woof!
Ugh, so noisy.
“Ruan, why on earth are you barking like that so early?”
She opened her door—and the real Ruan was suddenly there, sweeping her into his arms. He bent close to her ear and whispered tenderly:
“I’m home, my lady.”
…
Hugo awoke with searing pain in the back of his skull.
Ugh… where am I?
Blinking against the gloom, he slowly made out the shapes of flour sacks.
A storeroom?
He groaned. I was careless. Three women, and I let my guard down. And then that damned ambush…
He thrashed, trying to break free of the ropes binding him, but they held firm.
I didn’t even bother with that girl. But… was she guild-trained?
If the rebellion had been suppressed, the Duke would surely return here soon. Hugo knew he had to escape before then.
He twisted and struggled for a long time, but the ropes gave not an inch. Finally, he sagged in defeat.
“Need a hand?”
A voice—low, unfamiliar—cut through the darkness.
Hugo’s head snapped up. “Wh-who’s there?”
“…Been a while, Hugo.”
Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Ruan’s figure. He stood there, cold as death, looking down on him. Hugo’s blood turned to ice.
“D-Duke!”
“You dared attempt to abduct my wife? Did you not hear the tale? Prince Daimond was sent into exile with every bone in his body shattered. You must have missed that little story.”
Ruan took a step forward. Then another. Each one made Hugo scramble backward on his elbows.
“W-wait, please—!”
“Do you have something to say?”
Ruan pulled the gag from his mouth.
“I only meant to use the Duchess as leverage to save my master’s life! I never intended to harm her!”
“To harm her? …Surely you didn’t mark her body?”
That look. That murderous glint in Ruan’s eyes—Hugo realized in that moment that a man could indeed be killed by a gaze alone.
“T-that was an accident! She wouldn’t come quietly, so I—Aaargh!”
Before he could finish, agony tore through his thigh.
“Mercy, Hugo, is one of my virtues,” Ruan said mildly.
“Mercy?!” Hugo choked out. You just stabbed me and dare speak of mercy?!
“I always repay what I’m given,” Ruan continued, smiling brightly. “Tenfold.”
He wrenched the sword from Hugo’s leg, then calmly drove it into the other.
“AAAAHHHHH!”
Ruan watched him writhe, his smile never fading.
“Oh, come now. This is only the beginning. You dared raise a blade to my wife—and worse, you scarred her. Wouldn’t it have been better to be caught in the valley? At least then, you’d have reached trial with your body intact.”
“D-Duke—!”
“Remember this, Hugo. From this moment on, you will learn with every nerve, every bone, what it means to touch the one person you should never have touched. Perhaps… perhaps you’ll even wish Cat had finished you off yesterday.”
Rolling up his sleeves, Ruan clenched his fists. His smile was warm, almost gentle—yet his words were ice, and his looming presence was death itself.
…
He had returned.
He had come back for her, just as he promised.
When he first embraced her, whispering his greeting, Marican’s heart had soared with joy. But that joy was swiftly tempered…
“Don’t move. Your wound will tear.”
“…What?”
She had just picked up her spoon at breakfast when Ruan scolded her, his hand closing over hers.
In a blink, he plucked the spoon away, sat beside her, and lifted it toward her lips.
“Now, my lady. Say ‘ah’.”
Marican froze.
He’s not serious… is he?
She stared at him, but his expression was perfectly grave as he demonstrated—taking a spoonful of soup and miming how she should open her mouth.
“Your right hand could disturb the cut on your neck,” he explained smoothly. “So let me feed you.”
Feed me? Here? Now?
Her face burned. “Ruan, what are you saying? Cat is right there!”
Indeed, Cat was seated across the table, watching openly with a mischievous grin.
But when Marican tried to protest further, Cat suddenly turned away, casually spooning food into her mouth.
“Boss, what are you talking about? I don’t see a thing. But wow, Duke—you cook really well. This is delicious.”
“See?” Ruan said, bringing the spoon back to Marican’s lips. “Cat sees nothing. Now… say ‘ah’.”
Oh, Ruan… really?
It was just a scratch on her neck. Hardly life-threatening. Mortified, Marican lowered her head, but Ruan gently tilted her chin back up.
“Don’t move your head. The wound will split.”
“It won’t. It’s barely a graze.”
“Blood is already seeping. We’ll eat first, then I’ll tend to it.”
Resigned, Marican finally parted her lips, and he slipped the spoon between them with excruciating tenderness.
…
When the meal was done, she tried to rise, but Ruan was instantly at her side.
“W-what is it?” she asked nervously.
“Where would you like to go?”
“My… my room. Is something wrong with that?”
“Not at all. Allow me.”
Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to her room. Gently placing her on the bed, he fetched the medicine box.
“Ruan, I’m not an invalid.”
“Not an invalid? You’re bleeding.”
She looked at the bloodied cloth in his hand. Barely a smear. She sighed.
“If you bandage a tiny cut like this, people will laugh. It’s just a scratch.”
“Even the smallest wound can fester if it’s neglected. And this is your neck—how would we treat it if infection set in?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already disinfecting the cut with painstaking care, winding a bandage securely around her throat.
Finally, she gave up and muttered, “By the way… what about that man? We left him at the shop.”
“Already taken care of,” Ruan replied calmly. “Before coming here, I delivered him to the guards. He’s on his way to the capital now.”
“So soon? But… the rebellion was only yesterday. How did you even get here? It takes three days at least.”
“There are arcane devices for travel. I came as quickly as I could.” He glanced at her. “Now, about the shop and the house—what will you do? If you’re to return to the capital, preparations must be made.”
“Zelda agreed to watch the shop until it sells. She’ll also look after the house now and then. At first, I thought it would only be temporary… but now, I think I’ll simply give them both to her. I owe her too much.”
Ruan nodded. “It’s yours, my lady. Do with it as you wish.”
“…Thank you. Truly.”
“Of course. Now, rest. You need it.”
He left the room, and Marican slowly looked around her familiar surroundings.
When she first came to this village, she never imagined opening a shop, building a life here… or reuniting with Ruan. Nearly ten months had passed, yet it felt like years.
And now… I’m truly leaving.
Though her heart was glad to return with Ruan, the thought of parting from the people here tugged painfully at her.
…
“You’re giving me your shop? Rosaline, are you serious?”
Zelda’s eyes widened at the news.
“If I could, I’d give you more. But all I own are the shop and the house. I’d be happiest if you accepted them.”
“Oh, Rosaline…” Zelda’s voice wavered. “Thank you. I’m touched by the thought. But honestly, I already struggle with my own tea shop. Without you there, your shop means little to me. Still, Peter has been talking—he’s always wanted to open a sandwich shop. He’s skillful, and with some guidance, he’ll learn quickly. Sell it to him. As for your house… leave it. When you visit, you’ll need a place to stay. I’ll come by to clean now and then.”
“But—”
“Listen. Yes, I brought you here. But you gave me happiness in return. Don’t you dare forget me once you’re back in the capital, Duchess or not.”
Marican hugged her tightly. “Never. You’re family to me, Zelda.”
“That’s all I ask. Just don’t turn me away when I come knocking at the Duke’s manor.”
“Of course not. In fact, if you come to the capital without visiting me, I’ll be upset.”
Zelda chuckled. “Then I’ll hold you to it. Rosaline… or should I say your true name now? Marican? Or ‘Duchess’?”
“Call me whatever you like. Rosaline, Marican… even just Mer.”
“Then Mer it is. Rosaline was dear to me, but your true name deserves to be spoken.”
Marican embraced her again, fiercely, unwilling to let go.
