81. If you were in the wrong, I would have drawn my sword against the imperial family.

At Klaus’s words, Roselia couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

She had gone to the imperial palace on what seemed like a simple errand, only to find herself branded a traitor and nearly executed. The absurdity of it all was overwhelming, even to her.

As she mulled over her thoughts, Johannes approached quietly, his voice low and composed.

“First, we should tend to his wounds.”

Klaus, lifting his head with effort, furrowed his brow as he responded skeptically, “Before that, what were you thinking, saying something like that?”

Despite Klaus’s stern tone, Johannes only offered a wry smile.

“I said it to save Antonio.”

“You’re the one who warned us that if Antonio’s bloodline were revealed, the Raphelios imperial family wouldn’t remain idle,” Klaus retorted sharply.

Johannes’s smile turned bitter as he replied, “I had no other choice. Once someone’s dead, bloodlines and imperial ties mean nothing.”

His candid words seemed to momentarily disarm Klaus and Roselia. Sensing their unease, Johannes added reassuringly, “Even if this truth reaches the Raphelios court, it’s not an issue for now. As long as Antonio is seen as a man.”

The mention of “as a man” struck a nerve with Roselia, whose expression tightened. She recalled what she had learned about the Raphelios bloodline: women of the lineage exuded pheromones far more potent than men. In the already contentious politics of the Raphelios court, dominated by rival factions of women, the appearance of a new female heir would undoubtedly spark a storm of opposition and intrigue.

Lost in thought, Roselia pressed her lips together in a grim line.

The heavy atmosphere was broken by Claucet, who had been supporting Klaus from the other side. She tilted her head in confusion.

“‘As long as Antonio is a man’? What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Claucet’s gaze sharpened, darting between those around her, suspicion grew in her expression.

“Wait… Does everyone here already know something I don’t?”

It suddenly dawned on Roselia that she had never informed Claucet that her true identity as Roselia had been exposed to Klaus and Johannes. She offered Claucet an awkward smile, unsure of how to explain.

Before she could respond, Klaus attempted to rise to his feet.

“Let’s… return to the Duke’s estate first…” he muttered, only for his legs to give way.

With a groan of pain, Klaus collapsed as if his body had finally given out.

“Kl-Klaus!”

“Your Grace!”

Roselia and Claucet exclaimed in alarm, rushing to his side. Klaus, now unconscious, lay limp in their arms, his injuries far more severe than they had initially realized.

* * *

With the help of the servants, Roselia had cleaned and bandaged Klaus’s wounds. Now, she remained by his bedside, keeping a close watch on his condition.

Though the immediate treatment was complete, Klaus’s body was still burning with fever, sweat pouring from his forehead and neck.

Dabbing the sweat from his face with a damp cloth, Roselia was startled when Klaus’s eyes shot open, his hand instinctively grabbing her wrist.

Roselia froze, looking down at him in surprise. When Klaus recognized her, relief flickered in his stormy blue eyes.

He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his arm made him groan and clutch at it.

“Ugh…”

“You shouldn’t try to move yet,” Roselia said softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Klaus’s eyes roamed the room before his cracked voice rasped out, “How long have you been here?”

Hesitating briefly, Roselia finally answered quietly, “From the beginning…”

Klaus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. As she averted her gaze, embarrassed, she quickly changed the subject.

“What happened to you? Why were you in such a state?”

Given that the Duke’s household had officially been allowed to attend the trial, the imperial blockade should have been lifted. Yet the deep cuts on his arm and shoulder were clearly from sharp blades.

Roselia’s determined gaze demanded answers, and Klaus sighed heavily before speaking in a low voice.

“I was ambushed on my way to the palace.”

“Ambushed?”

Her shock was evident as she echoed his words. Klaus clenched his fists, his tone simmering with anger.

“I couldn’t chase them down—they scattered too quickly—but they were surely shadows of the Grand Duke’s faction.”

“Why would they…?”

Roselia’s face was a mask of confusion. She had suspected the Grand Duke, but she thought they would want Klaus to defend her at the trial, to paint the Duke in a compromising light.

Klaus seemed to sense her uncertainty and muttered under his breath, “They wanted to ensure the trial would be the end for you.”

“Why would they go so far…?”

“Because they knew if something happened to you, I’d lose control,” Klaus said bluntly.

Roselia blinked, stunned.

“What…?”

Klaus’s gaze locked onto hers, unyielding and serious.

“If you’d been harmed, I would have drawn my sword against the imperial family.”

His words sent a chill through her, and her expression froze.

He was saying that if she had died, he would have truly committed treason against the Crown.

But why…? Why would he go to such lengths?

The question lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice it. She simply stared into his dark blue eyes, which seemed to pierce through her.

Klaus, catching her bewildered expression, let out a self-deprecating smile.

“You’re wondering why, aren’t you?”

His voice softened, carrying a mix of confusion and desperation as he held her gaze.

“I don’t understand it myself, but…”

His large hand gently cupped her cheek, his touch cautious but firm.

“That’s how it is, Roselia. I’ve become someone who can’t live without you.”

Thump—

Her heart raced, a sound loud and clear against the silence.

* * *

The image of Klaus declaring he would stake his life for her in the imperial palace resurfaced in Roselia’s mind.

His unwavering words that he would have turned his sword on the Crown if she had perished echoed in her ears.

‘With that handsome face, those ardent eyes, and such passionate words, what woman wouldn’t fall for him?’

At first, she thought his attraction was solely to the body of the original Roselia. But now, she had to admit—at least to herself—that it wasn’t just her body.

Her heart, too, was drawn to Klaus.

Clumsy as he was at expressing himself, his sincerity was shaking her resolve.

As his hand cupped her cheek, Klaus’s face drew closer, his deep, dark blue eyes fixed on hers. Roselia found herself entranced, her eyelids fluttering closed as if caught in a spell.

But just as he leaned closer, Klaus froze with a sharp intake of breath, his body stiffening in pain.

“Ugh…”

He had pushed himself too far, forcing his injured body to move.

The moment snapped Roselia out of her trance, and her cheeks flushed a vivid red.

‘What on earth was I thinking, letting this happen with an injured man?’

“I’ll go get a fresh towel,” she blurted, flustered, and hurried to rise.

Before she could fully stand, Klaus’s large hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.

Startled, she looked down at him. Despite the pain etched into his face, there was a trace of eagerness, a vulnerability that made her breath catch.

“I don’t mind the pain,” he murmured, his voice low and desperate. “Can’t we just… continue?”

‘Continue what?’

Roselia’s cheeks burned hotter, and she opened and closed her mouth in disbelief. Klaus let out a soft, amused laugh, his grip on her wrist loosening.

“Maybe I should’ve just endured it,” he said with a wry smile.

‘Endured the pain? In your state, that would’ve been even more dangerous!’

Unable to meet his gaze any longer, Roselia grabbed the basin and towel and turned away, her face still aflame.

Klaus’s eyes followed her, tinged with regret as she left the room. Roselia, feeling his gaze on her back, forced herself to focus.

Her heart was pounding wildly, and she could feel the uncontrollable scent of her pheromones lingering in the air.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she steadied her thoughts.

‘Nothing is certain between us yet.’

Even if her feelings for him were genuine, there were too many uncertainties.

‘The lingering shadow of the original story still looms, and even if that weren’t an issue, I’m just a servant of the Duke’s household.’

‘The chances of a real relationship with Klaus are slim to none.’

At best, they might end up like the original Roselia—sharing only a fleeting, physical connection.

‘And that,’ she realized, ‘would be devastatingly sad.’

* * *

A few days later, it felt as if the chaotic events at the imperial palace had been nothing but a bad dream. The Duke’s household had returned to its usual rhythm, and tranquility had settled once again.

In the garden, Roselia sat watching Claucet, who was feeding a canary from a small birdcage she had brought out. Claucet, sensing Roselia’s gaze, turned and gave her a mock-pouting expression.

“How could you not tell me something like that?”

Roselia blinked, realizing Claucet was referring to the fact that both Klaus and Johannes now knew her true identity as Roselia.

“I’ve kept your secret for so long,” Claucet continued, her tone tinged with exaggerated grievance.

“I’m sorry,” Roselia replied sincerely. “It all happened so suddenly that I barely had time to think.”

Her earnest apology seemed to soften Claucet’s stance, and she let out a sigh.

“Fine, I suppose what’s more important is that you’re safe.”

Her tone shifted, though, as her eyes gleamed with determination. Her voice lowered, almost growling like a small predator.

“But who dared smear both you and Klaus with such disgrace?”

Roselia suspected the Grand Duke Rubelio, much like Klaus, but she chose to stay silent. The suspicion wasn’t confirmed, and even if it were, Claucet knowing wouldn’t benefit anyone.

“You’re right,” Roselia said instead. “What matters most is that I’m safe. Although… the Duke’s relationship with the Crown Prince seems to have worsened.”

Claucet’s response was blunt. “Well, it’s not like His Highness has ever been particularly fond of the Duke’s household.”

“Why is that?”

“Not sure,” Claucet replied, her brow furrowed. “All I know is that he wasn’t always like this. I think it all changed after the Empress passed away.”

Roselia’s memory clicked into place.

The Crown Prince believed the death of the Empress was tied to the Duke of Valtazar’s household and the Marquess of Herden’s family. This led him to distrust his childhood friend and fiancée, the Crown Princess, and to harbor deep resentment toward Klaus, who remained close to her.

Similarly, Klaus harbored his own resentment against the imperial family, suspecting that his parents’ fatal carriage accident had ties to the late Emperor.

Because of this tangled web of mistrust and tragedy, the original story had depicted the widening rift between the two households, leading to their eventual ruin.

‘I hope they won’t follow the same path here,’ Roselia thought wistfully.

At that moment, Melda approached with a cautious demeanor, having returned from the kitchen.

“My lady, it seems your guests have arrived.”

“Ah! They’re finally here!” Claucet exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Roselia looked puzzled. “Guests?”

“Yes, your guests!”

“My guests?”

What guests? Roselia thought, thoroughly confused.

Seeing her bewilderment, Claucet grinned mischievously and took her hand, pulling her toward the mansion’s entrance.

When they arrived, Roselia’s eyes widened in shock.

Standing at the entrance were Count Bernas, with his perpetually grumpy expression, and Abello, who looked slightly nervous but managed a warm, awkward smile. Beside him stood his daughter, Erlin, gazing shyly at Roselia.

“Grandfather? Abello? Erlin…?”

The sight of their familiar faces brought a sudden rush of emotion. The realization that she had survived such a dangerous ordeal finally hit her, and her chest tightened with overwhelming relief.

 

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