Chapter 006. Their Twisted Hero (2)

Rosalyn scooped a generous amount of the ointment and applied it to Sionne’s wounds.

“Ugh.”

The cold ointment spread across his abdomen without warning, sending a shiver through his body. His shoulders and stomach tensed involuntarily.

Meanwhile, Rosalyn remained focused on applying the medicine. Her touch was rough but surprisingly practiced. At some point, the callouses on her fingers felt almost soft, possibly due to the salve.

“Tsk.”

Rosalyn’s hand paused over a deep wound on Sionne’s side, a scar that had sunk into his skin. Unlike the other injuries, this one would surely leave a lasting mark.

“This scar is going to stay.”

“…If you don’t like scars, then you’re free to stop.”

Sionne still couldn’t figure out why Rosalyn was interested in him. Maybe she would lose interest if his body bore too many scars. He thought about showing her the large one on his back to see if that would make her stop.

“Scars aren’t exactly attractive. My own body is covered in them, so it’s more enjoyable to look at smooth skin, don’t you think?”

“…”

Sionne didn’t have a response for that unexpected answer.

Now that he thought about it, Rosalyn—or rather, the Grand Duke—had her own share of scars. Even now, scars that her indoor clothes couldn’t fully conceal were visible. A long scar ran from her ear down to her collarbone, undoubtedly from someone who had once tried to cut her throat.

“But it seems my tastes have changed.”

Unlike Sionne, who was at a loss for words, Rosalyn didn’t seem bothered by her scars. She didn’t care about the state of her own body.

“Even a scarred body can be beautiful.”

Sionne felt heat rush to his face. Beautiful, even with scars? He had never heard such a shameless remark in his life.

“That’s enough. Please, stop now.”

Rosalyn glanced at Sionne’s face. Seeing the embarrassment and discomfort there, a mischievous thought surfaced in her mind.

Her hand began to move lower, inching dangerously close to the blanket barely covering his lower body.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

Sionne grabbed her hand in a panic. She quietly looked down at their hands, now overlapping.

Following her gaze, Sionne quickly released her hand, shocked at himself for touching her so freely.

For once, Rosalyn gave him an answer.

“You ask why?”

“…”

“If this is mine…”

She slid her hand down his chest and over his abdomen. Though her touch wasn’t forceful, it aggravated some of the wounds that hadn’t yet fully healed.

“Ugh.”

Sionne suppressed a groan. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain or something else that caused it.

Then, it happened.

*Squeeze.*

“Ah…”

“This is mine too, isn’t it?”

Rosalyn’s hand gripped his thigh, just under the thin blanket.

“Unless, of course, your upper and lower body are somehow separate.”

“That’s just…!”

Sionne wanted to argue that it was nothing more than a crude joke.

But the words died in his throat. Her words, playful as they seemed, were the closest to the truth.

A prisoner of war and a mere spoil. He belonged to this woman.

If she asked him to reveal his lower body, perhaps it was only natural to obey.

“Hmm?”

“…It’s nothing.”

The anger that had flared up inside him fizzled out as he lowered his head in resignation. Instead of fury, all that remained was a deep sense of helplessness.

There was no escaping the learned lessons of surrender and submission.

“Good. It’s about time you learned to separate the two.”

*Swoosh.*

Rosalyn ran her fingers through his hair, her non-medicating hand stroking his head. The more she touched him, the more Sionne’s face contorted in confusion.

On the other hand, Sionne debated whether to push her hand away or let her continue. He couldn’t bring himself to defy her because of the people she held hostage. But the humiliation was undeniable.

“Still, don’t lose all your spirit. It would be boring.”

Reading his inner turmoil, Rosalyn’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“Even if you act obedient, keep your claws and fangs hidden.”

With that, she grasped the shoulder of her dress and slid it down without hesitation.

“So that when the time comes, you can sink them into your master’s neck.”

“What the…!”

Sionne turned his head in shock at her sudden, unpredictable behavior. Nothing about her actions made sense to him.

“No, don’t look away. Look at me properly.”

Rosalyn forcibly turned Sionne’s head, making him face her.

The horrific scar that ran from behind her ear to her collarbone was fully visible. She seemed to have noticed earlier when his gaze had lingered on it for a moment.

“Prince, who do you think gave me this scar?”

It was a strange question. Was she planning to vent her anger about a wound caused by the Feitan army?

“I assume it was one of the brave and proud knights of Feitan.”

His response was filled with both pride and antagonism. Rosalyn snorted in amusement.

“Wrong. It wasn’t the Feitan army.”

“?”

“It was the brave and proud soldiers of Hernia.”

Her smile widened. She spoke about being critically injured by her own allies with a dazzling grin.

“They failed and died, of course.”

She shrugged as she moved away from Sionne, her demeanor casual.

“If they had succeeded, they would have gotten what they wanted.”

She wiped her hand, still stained with ointment, on a handkerchief as she continued.

“You never know, maybe you could succeed.”

“What do you mean?”

Sionne couldn’t grasp her meaning.

What was she trying to say? What was her true intention? He couldn’t figure it out.

“Can’t you see? I’m being kind.”

“…”

“I’ve applied medicine to your wounds and given you a reason to live.”

Kindness? Was she seriously calling her selfish actions kindness?

Her definition of kindness was twisted beyond belief.

“I never asked for that kind of kindness.”

“Good. I was getting tired of it anyway.”

It was true that she had grown bored of playing the unusual role. Rosalyn tossed the ointment jar carelessly aside and returned to her bed.

“Hah…”

Left alone, Sionne let out a dry laugh.

She might not have a talent for kindness, but she certainly excelled at turning people inside out.

* * *

“Time for more ointment?”

Sionne removed his shirt as the maid gestured toward the jar of ointment. Since Rosalyn’s warning, the young maid hadn’t spoken a word to him.

‘Why she insists on making things difficult for everyone by forbidding any talking, I’ll never understand.’

Watching the girl apply the medicine while clearly nervous, he sighed inwardly.

The small maid kept glancing over her shoulder, checking for Rosalyn.

‘Anna was just as timid when she was first introduced to the royal palace.’

Sionne couldn’t help but see a resemblance between the maid and his own younger sister.

“Thank you.”

Once the treatment was done, Sionne quietly expressed his gratitude. His body had almost fully recovered, thanks to the maid’s diligent care.

“!”

The sudden thanks startled the girl, and she immediately looked toward Rosalyn.

Realizing that Rosalyn was preoccupied with something else, the maid gave Sionne a timid smile.

It was the kind of smile that stirred memories of someone dear to him.

Meanwhile, Rosalyn was focused on reading a letter that had come her way, her expression serious.

 

[To my dearest princess,

The glory of Hernia continues to light up the continent, and I hope that your future and that of the Empire is filled with even greater honor.

How have you been, Your Highness?

I have so much to say, but I don’t know where to start. I’ve rewritten this letter five times now because I’m at a loss for words.

I am simply grateful that you’ve returned safely. For seven years, I prayed desperately, asking only that you be spared and that I could see you again.

I long to see you soon. This old nurse has aged, and I’m curious to see how my princess has changed.

As soon as this letter is sent, I’ll head straight for the capital. I hope to spend whatever time I have left at your side. Surely you wouldn’t turn me away just because I’m old, would you?

I’ll end this letter here and save the rest of the conversation for when we meet.

With all my love,
Meriwood.

P.S. I know you’re now a Grand Duke, but to me, you’ll always be my princess. Please forgive this old woman’s mistake.]

 

The letter, written by Rosalyn’s nurse Meriwood, was filled with affection that couldn’t be hidden.

“Sigh, she’s probably already on her way…”

Rosalyn sighed, pressing her hand against her forehead as she finished reading the letter.