72. I Want to Hear It Directly From Your Lips

His massive hand, which had been clenched into a fist as if about to shatter, slid down and gripped her waist firmly.

Roselia gasped, lifting her head sharply at the sudden motion.

Klaus, his gaze heated and his eyes tinged with crimson, lowered his face to her slender neck. Overcome by the intoxicating scent emanating from her, he greedily drew in her fragrance, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed tightly together.

As much as Klaus had lost himself to his urges, Roselia was equally consumed by her instincts. Fully surrendering, she boldly clung to him, releasing the fragrance from her chest without restraint.

Bathed in moonlight, her sweat-slicked body glistened, and Klaus swallowed a groan at the sight.

It wasn’t a mistake—standing before him was Antonio’s face, yet her white, delicate body was entirely exposed under the silvery glow of the moonlight.

‘How could she have hidden such beauty?’

She looked untouched, her purity radiating with such elegance that Klaus found himself spellbound. His trembling hand reached out, stroking her softly.

Her body quivered under his touch, the slight spasms making her appear achingly fragile and stunning. He gently caressed the nape of her neck, his movements deliberate, as if coaxing and soothing her to avoid startling her.

Perhaps responding to his tender gestures, Roselia’s ragged breaths turned into a sudden sharp gasp as her body arched uncontrollably. A powerful wave of her scent surged through the air.

“Ugh…!”

Klaus clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure against the overwhelming fragrance.

Roselia collapsed against his shoulder like a puppet with its strings cut, her breath labored and uneven.

‘How could I have ever thought of this body as a man’s?’

Her earnest reactions to every touch, the moans that escaped her lips—all undeniably marked her as a woman.

Klaus, his own desires barely contained, resolved that he would satisfy his burning thirst first and then thoroughly question her later. As he began to pull her away, he stopped.

She had slumped against his shoulder and chest, her entire weight limp as if unconscious.

It was then that Klaus realized she had passed out. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, he muttered, “Hah… Antonio.”

Or perhaps he should call her Roselia now?

Whatever the case, she had left him utterly inflamed and frustrated, her maddening scent lingering as she lay unconscious.

“Damn it…”

Klaus sighed heavily, hesitating for a long moment before carefully lifting her, supporting her back and head, and laying her down gently on the bed.

He didn’t want to lose control like some feral beast over someone already unwell.

Even as he laid her down, his tense muscles twitched with suppressed desire, but Klaus fought to contain himself. Rising to his feet beside the bed, he let out a low growl of frustration.

‘Damn it, I should’ve listened to the marquess.’

Raking a hand through his hair, Klaus moved to the window and threw it open, letting the cool dawn air wash over him. The fresh breeze cleared his mind somewhat, though not entirely.

He turned his head slowly to look at Roselia—whether asleep or unconscious, her expression was serene. Approaching her cautiously, Klaus placed a hand on her forehead.

Thankfully, her fever had subsided.

As he gazed at her peaceful face, Klaus’s lips parted slightly.

“Why… did you deceive me, Roselia…?”

The unanswered question lingered in his chest, unresolved and as persistent as the unquenched thirst that gnawed at him from within.

* * *

Roselia, still in Antonio’s guise, sat at the garden table.

Contrary to her recent collapse, her body felt light as a feather, and the chest pain had completely disappeared.

She was so perfectly fine that it left her bewildered, making her earlier suffering seem almost laughable.

What puzzled her further was that, unlike the sweat-soaked bedding from before, the shirt she now wore was clean and dry, buttoned all the way to the collar. She concluded that Claucet must have changed her clothes due to the excessive sweating and let the matter drop.

Roselia gazed warmly at Claucet, who sat across from her. Meeting her eyes, Claucet wore a worried expression as she spoke.

“Antonio, are you really okay?”

“Yes, after a deep sleep, I feel much better,” Roselia replied with a gentle smile.

Claucet narrowed her eyes skeptically. “Are you sure? You slept for two whole days.”

“Two days?”

Roselia blinked in surprise. She had felt well-rested, but she hadn’t realized she had slept for that long.

‘I must’ve really been out like a rock,’ she thought, her wide-eyed expression betraying her astonishment. Claucet sighed and continued.

“Even the Marquess of Euciliod stopped by.”

Roselia’s expression turned to one of shock. “The marquess? Why?”

“Well, he said your condition might be related to the bloodline of Raphelios. He told us not to let anyone into your room, so we followed his instructions. By the next day, your fever had miraculously disappeared.”

‘So it really was connected to the Raphelios bloodline,’ Roselia thought. Her suspicions had been correct. It seemed she would have to visit the marquess soon to get a clearer understanding.

As Roselia pondered this, Claucet hesitated before adding carefully, “Oh, and Klaus was really worried about you. He was pacing in front of your door so much that I thought the floor would wear down. He’s the one who brought the Marquess of Euciliod.”

Roselia’s eyes widened briefly in surprise before she nodded calmly. “I see…”

Even before she had fainted, Klaus had been unusually kind to her. And he had known she was a man—or at least thought she was.

His kindness had felt burdensome at the time, but after being unwell, she couldn’t help but feel a little grateful.

He had saved her during the Denver incident, after all. She resolved to thank him properly. Just as this thought crossed her mind, an all-too-familiar carriage came to a halt in front of the mansion.

It was the ducal carriage that Klaus used.

“Speak of the devil,” Claucet muttered in a tone dripping with sarcasm as Klaus stepped out of the carriage, looking impeccably composed.

His appearance today was even more masculine and commanding than usual, and Roselia felt an inexplicable tension in her chest.

As he approached, she braced herself, wondering if he might acknowledge her presence. But to her surprise, Klaus didn’t even glance in her direction, walking right past without a word.

Had he not seen her?

She could’ve sworn their eyes had met when he stepped out of the carriage.

Claucet, sensing Roselia’s confusion, scoffed. “What’s this? He was so worried about you before, and now he doesn’t even greet you? Did something happen outside?”

‘Could something bad have happened while he was out?’ Roselia wondered, her expression clouded with concern.

After a moment of deliberation, she decided she should approach Klaus herself and offer her thanks. With this thought in mind, she quietly sipped her tea, already planning her next move.

* * *

Standing in front of Klaus’s office door, Roselia took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and knocked gently.

“Your Grace, it’s Antonio.”

Her tension was quickly dispelled when an immediate response came from the other side.

“Come in.”

Cautiously opening the door, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately scanning Klaus’s expression. Contrary to her concerns that something unpleasant might have happened, Klaus appeared as stoic as ever, his focus on the documents in front of him.

Sensing her gaze, Klaus looked up and asked in a calm tone, “Is there something you need to say to me?”

He set the documents aside and clasped his hands together, almost as if expecting her to speak. His demeanor threw Roselia off guard, and she averted her gaze before speaking, striving to remain composed.

“I… I wanted to thank you properly. For the incident in Denver and for your concern when I collapsed. I feel like I’ve caused you nothing but worry.”

Klaus’s brow twitched subtly, as if her words weren’t what he had been expecting.

“Thanks, is it…? Never mind that. Antonio…”

His gaze sharpened, piercing through her, and Roselia found herself meeting his intense eyes with a startled expression.

“Do you have anything else you want to say to me?”

“Anything else…?”

Roselia blinked innocently, her wide eyes resembling those of a startled rabbit. Klaus let out a deep sigh, his exasperation evident.

“Did you know that you are of the bloodline of Raphelios?”

‘Ah, so that’s what this is about,’ Roselia thought, assuming he was asking about her connection to the bloodline. She replied curtly, “No, I wasn’t aware. I’ve only speculated that there might be a distant ancestor linked to the bloodline.”

“That’s not what I mean. Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?”

“Hiding…?”

Roselia’s expression was blank, genuinely clueless, which only brought to Klaus’s mind the events of the previous night. A wave of frustration surged within him.

‘She made me desperate, only to pass out—and now she doesn’t even remember it? Looking at that innocent face, it’s obvious she doesn’t recall.’

How could she not remember that night?

While Klaus had been losing sleep over the incident, here she was, acting oblivious with that naive expression.

Did she really think he wouldn’t figure out her true identity?

Seething, Klaus slowly stood and began approaching her. Alarmed by the intensity in his eyes, Roselia instinctively took a step back.

Before she realized it, her back hit the wall, and she found herself staring up at him, wide-eyed, as he closed the distance between them.

“Are you really hiding nothing from me?”

‘Could it be…? Did he realize the real Antonio is gone?’

No, if Klaus had discovered her masquerade as Antonio, he would’ve drawn his sword without hesitation.

But still… the two-week deadline Antonio had mentioned was fast approaching.

Lost in her thoughts, Roselia didn’t notice Klaus’s hand until he gently tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His voice dropped to a low, warning tone.

“Antonio, you have no idea… how much I’ve been holding back.”

She inhaled sharply as his firm leg pressed between hers, sending a wave of panic through her.

“So, please,” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, “say it. I want to hear it from your own lips.”

“Say what…?” Roselia stammered, her voice trembling.

Klaus’s lips curled into a wry smile.

“Must I spell it out for you?”

Resting his palm against the wall beside her, Klaus leaned in, closing the distance between them until their breaths mingled. Their faces were so close, she could feel the heat radiating from him.

 

 

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