96. The Desert Kingdom of Benyub

Roselia’s resolute words caused Klaus’s expression to harden.

“Are you serious?”

“Doesn’t the absence of my scent prove it?”

Roselia met Klaus’s gaze unwaveringly, her eyes steady and unflinching. Klaus reached out cautiously, his hand brushing against her cheek as he murmured,

“Your eyes don’t say the same thing.”

His slow, deliberate tone suggested he was reading something within her eyes. Roselia stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she shoved his chest firmly.

“Don’t touch me as if I’m one of your servants.”

Her reflexive response made Klaus frown, his expression momentarily pained as he muttered,

“Since I started caring for you, I’ve never treated you like a servant.”

“That’s just what *you* think. Even now, when I’ve clearly told you I don’t like you, you’re still forcing your way in.”

“…”

His gaze, now downcast as if wounded, unsettled Roselia. Fighting her faltering resolve, she forced herself to be harsher.

“Shall I say it again? I don’t like you anymore, Your Grace.”

She wanted him to stop. The closer he came, the more her carefully built resolve crumbled, and the more frustrated she became with her own helplessness.

And so, his relentless pursuit terrified her.

“Is that all? I’m sick of your arrogant, overbearing attitude that disregards others’ feelings. I’m disgusted by the way you think money can solve everything. Should I continue?”

“…”

Her voice trembled as she let her rising anger pour out.

“It’s incredibly unpleasant to see someone clinging to a relationship that’s already over. So, I’d appreciate it if you acted like we don’t know each other when we meet in the future—or better yet, let’s not meet at all.”

With that, Roselia spun on her heels and walked away briskly.

Each determined step she took filled her eyes with unshed tears.

She hated herself for wavering, even though she knew Klaus wouldn’t change, and that any future they had together would only bring misery—knowledge she had gained from the original story.

She was angry at her own heart for faltering so easily and furious at Klaus for trying to sway her with fleeting emotions.

As she left Klaus standing frozen in place, Roselia felt a bitterness she couldn’t shake.

* * *

The next day, during their usual tea time at the marquisate, Johannes cautiously broached the subject.

“Nothing unusual happened yesterday, did it?”

He was clearly concerned about Roselia abruptly leaving the dinner the previous evening.

“It was just that I wasn’t feeling well,” Roselia replied in a composed tone, maintaining her formal demeanor.

Johannes hesitated briefly before speaking again.

“When it’s just the two of us… you can call me brother, if you’d like.”

“But you’re still addressing me formally,” Roselia pointed out.

Johannes seemed to realize his inconsistency and looked momentarily flustered before letting out an awkward laugh.

“You’re right. For now, let’s address each other however we feel comfortable.”

“Agreed,” Roselia replied with a small smile, mirroring his gentle expression.

As he watched her, Johannes asked tentatively, “How is your scent control practice coming along?”

“I’ve been following your guidance, but recently… I’ve felt my chest tightening, and sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.”

“I see,” Johannes said with a nod before rising from his seat.

“Let’s move to a different spot for a moment.”

Roselia followed Johannes as he led her outside to a separate glass greenhouse on the marquisate grounds.

The greenhouse, lush and meticulously maintained, resembled a small forest. Stopping in the center, Johannes turned to face her.

“Instead of constantly suppressing the scent that comes from your heart, you need to release it periodically. I come to this greenhouse once a month to release my scent.”

“Release my scent?” Roselia echoed, confused.

“If you try to hold your breath for too long, you’ll eventually feel like you’re suffocating. It’s the same with suppressing your scent. Releasing it helps restore balance.”

Still puzzled, Roselia stared at him, her expression skeptical. Johannes smiled gently at her.

“Like this,” he said.

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and released a subtle, almost imperceptible energy that seemed to ripple through the greenhouse.

The air grew heavy with an inexplicable warmth, the faint scent of something sweet and floral filling the space. The plants around them seemed to respond, their colors brightening subtly, as if rejuvenated.

Johannes opened his eyes, meeting Roselia’s astonished gaze.

“Now, try it,” he encouraged softly.

As Johannes released his scent, a sudden wave of fragrance filled the air, enveloping the greenhouse in its warmth.

The scent was soothing yet invigorating, reminiscent of lavender with a hint of forest—a smell that made one feel at ease.

Roselia found herself drawn to Johannes more than ever, his usual handsome features somehow appearing even more radiant in the wake of his scent’s release. It was the first time she had fully experienced his fragrance, as he had always kept it under strict control.

“That’s an incredible scent. Do I smell like that too?” Roselia asked, her cheeks slightly flushed with excitement.

Johannes smiled warmly at her curiosity.

“Roselia, your scent is far stronger and more enchanting than mine. But remember, the scent of our bloodline can be both a cure and a poison. Are you ready to try?”

Roselia nodded resolutely and closed her eyes.

As if releasing the floodgates of a dam, she felt something open within her chest. A rush of energy poured out, like water escaping from a confined space, saturating the greenhouse in an overwhelming wave of pheromones.

Even Johannes, who had been calm throughout, staggered back a few steps in surprise.

“From now on, it’s best to release your scent when you’re alone in the greenhouse,” Johannes said, his expression a mix of amusement and concern.

Realizing what had just happened, Roselia clutched her chest, flustered. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

Johannes shook his head, offering her a wry smile.

“It must be difficult, suppressing your scent while pretending to be a man. But the Crown Prince’s ascension ceremony is only a month away. You just need to hold on until then.”

Roselia, sensing his apologetic tone, responded with a bright smile. “I’ve gotten used to dressing as a man by now.”

Her cheerful demeanor made Johannes chuckle, though his smile held a tinge of sadness.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Come in,” he called out.

A woman appeared as if she had been waiting nearby. Without a sound, she stepped forward into the greenhouse.

She had bright auburn curls, reminiscent of the setting sun, and wore the attire of a maid.

“This is Eva Leclerc. The Leclerc family has served the Marquisate of Euciliod for generations,” Johannes explained.

Seeing Roselia’s curious expression, Johannes elaborated with a smile.

“In this household, the only people who know you are a woman and the marquis’s daughter are myself, the head butler, and Eva here. She will serve as your personal maid and assist you in many ways.”

As Johannes finished speaking, Eva bowed deeply with an enthusiastic smile.

“It’s an honor to serve you, Lady Roselia! Please, just call me Eva. Oh, and by the way, the head butler, Mr. Avon, is my father, and Mr. Lognan, the aide, is my older brother!”

Roselia was surprised. ‘That intimidating Lognan has such an adorable younger sister?’

“Nice to meet you, Eva,” Roselia said politely.

“Come on, my lady, you don’t have to be so formal!” Eva replied with a cheerful grin.

“Well… okay…” Roselia stammered, feeling awkward.

She had never had a personal maid before. Even as the baron’s daughter, she had been treated more like a servant than a noblewoman.

Unlike Roselia, who felt uncomfortable with the situation, Eva was bright and outgoing.

“Oh, by the way, today is the day the Benyub merchant guild arrives. Would you like to visit?”

Benyub was a southern kingdom with completely different skin tones and culture compared to the European-style nations of the region. Hearing about it made Roselia’s eyes light up with curiosity.

Noticing her interest, Johannes smiled and said, “As long as Eva accompanies you, an occasional outing should be fine.”

Thrilled, Eva and Roselia began preparing for their trip. Since Roselia was dressed as a man, there wasn’t much to prepare, and they were ready in no time.

The two climbed into the carriage and headed to Felton Harbor, where the Benyub guild had arrived.

“Young master, you really are handsome. You’re exactly the type to make any noble lady swoon!” Eva exclaimed cheerfully.

Roselia smiled awkwardly. She had already broken more than a few hearts back in Rugbeljet but decided not to mention it.

“Will they have art or paintings for sale?” Roselia asked.

“Of course! You’ll see all kinds of rare and fascinating things. Some are so strange you won’t believe your eyes!” Eva said excitedly before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially.

“I once saw a sculpture made of cat dung. It was so shiny and cute!”

‘A sculpture made of cat dung?’ Roselia thought, grimacing. That one didn’t interest her, but the mention of Benyub’s unique artistry stirred her excitement.

When they arrived at the bustling harbor, Roselia felt a thrill. The streets were far livelier than when she had visited the day before.

People with tanned skin and flowing Middle Eastern-inspired attire mingled among the usual European-style crowds, bringing a vibrant energy to the marketplace.

“Young master, look over here!” Eva called, pointing enthusiastically at a stall overflowing with Benyub jewelry.

Roselia followed her, but her attention was soon drawn to a painting displayed at another booth.

It depicted a woman in traditional Benyub attire nursing a child, the composition and colors evoking a sense of warmth and beauty.

Drawn in, Roselia approached the vendor and asked, “Excuse me, how much for this painting?”

The vendor, still arranging his wares, looked at her hesitantly. “That painting isn’t for sale.”

‘Not for sale? That can’t be true. He must want to haggle,’ Roselia thought.

Confident, she said boldly, “I’ll give you 50 berang.”

The vendor seemed taken aback. “Even so…”

“100 berang,” Roselia pressed, raising the offer.

The man’s eyes widened in shock. After a moment of hesitation, he pointed toward another figure.

“You’ll have to ask that man over there. He’s the one who brought it.”

Roselia turned to see a tall man with silver hair inspecting another stall. Determined to acquire the painting, she approached him and called out, “Excuse me.”

The man didn’t respond, either not hearing her or not realizing she was addressing him. Frustrated, Roselia grabbed his wrist and said louder, “Excuse me!”

Finally, the man turned to face her, glancing down at the hand gripping his wrist.

He was dressed in Benyub-style clothing, his bronze skin and well-defined chest exposed. His silver hair shimmered under the sunlight, and his piercing red eyes gleamed dangerously as he studied her with a faint smirk.

“Well, this is new. I’ve never been grabbed by a man before,” he said, his deep voice laced with amusement as his crimson eyes narrowed playfully.

 

 

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