Episode 47

“When you stare like that, I don’t know how I’m supposed to react.”

Completely unaware that he had become a spectacle for her amusement, Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. Had she been staring too intensely?

“But… this place feels different from the balcony seat I was in earlier.”

“That’s because it’s mine. I bought it.”

This space, offering a direct view of the stage, was a royal box, reserved for esteemed guests. It had recently belonged to the Countess of Haywood, who rarely used it and had been more than willing to sell it.

After acquiring it, Rosanna had replaced the furniture, installing a sofa large enough for someone to lie down comfortably.

“I bought it so we could be alone.”

“For… me? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Kyle cut himself off, perhaps thinking his own words arrogant. It was admirable that he guarded himself against pride, but the way he constantly tried to put himself in his place was almost pitiable. Just how much had he been conditioned to be cautious? Considering his temperament, even without external pressure, he must have felt an overwhelming sense of burden.

Rosanna was starting to get a clearer picture of what kind of man Kyle Mason was.

“But it’s true. I bought this place just so we could spend today together. It has no meaning without you.”

Kyle’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He seemed utterly flustered, speechless. Rosanna, enjoying his reaction, moved in closer.

“You say things like that so casually….”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not exactly.”

Kyle found himself genuinely curious. What had Rosanna’s past relationships been like? How had she treated other men? A woman as effortlessly enchanting as her must have drawn people to her whims as easily as breathing. It seemed natural to assume that she had long mastered the art of seduction. The ease with which she disarmed him—surely, it was the result of a well-practiced approach. No one could be born this skilled.

They said the past should remain buried, but once the thought surfaced, it was impossible to push aside.

“If I said I was jealous of the men from your past… you’d find that ridiculous, wouldn’t you?”

“Men?”

Rosanna tilted her head. She had pursued men before, but not out of romantic interest. It had been hunting, not courtship. Kyle must not have meant it in that sense.

“There were no men. You’re the first person I’ve ever been interested in, Kyle.”

“Really…? Me?”

“Why would you assume there were others?”

“You’re just… too good at this.”

Of course she was. Rosanna carried centuries’ worth of knowledge—centuries of observing and listening to others.

“You’re just too naive.”

Brushing her nose against his, she laughed playfully. At times, she saw Kyle as a child—innocent, inexperienced. And that fact stirred something stubborn within him.

Perhaps in an attempt to prove himself, he suddenly closed the gap, capturing her lower lip in a gentle bite. It wasn’t a passionate gesture, nor was it meant to seduce—it was simply a bite, executed for the sake of biting.

Neither of them blinked as they stared at each other. Rosanna’s pale blue eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Biting is my specialty, you know.”

Rosanna barely pulled away before lunging forward again. With no one watching, there was no need for restraint—she could devour Kyle properly this time.

Somewhere, fabric tore as the hem of her dress caught on something, but it didn’t matter. It was a favorite of hers, but so what? Clothes could be replaced. If this exact design no longer existed, she’d have one custom-made.

But Kyle… Kyle was one of a kind.

She pushed him down, refusing to allow even the smallest movement. Her kiss this time was nothing like before—it was greedy, devouring him in a way that left no room for protest.

Her lips traced along his jawline before she let her teeth graze against his skin, not enough to break it, but enough to leave faint red marks behind.

“Hngh….”

Kyle inhaled sharply, chest rising with the effort to suppress a sound.

At that, Rosanna abandoned the last of her self-control. Slipping her fingers under his Roman collar, she tugged it downward, exposing more of his throat.

That untouched, porcelain skin—always hidden, always forbidden—was irresistible. It had always been.

And now, drenched in his intoxicating scent, Rosanna could no longer hold herself back.
Rosanna pressed her lips against the hollow where Kyle’s neck met his shoulder. Instead of sinking her fangs into him, she sucked at his skin with a force that mimicked feeding. Kyle let out a ragged breath at the sensation, and the sound only encouraged her to intensify her caresses.

‘What if I just bit down right now? His blood… that sweet, wine-like blood…’

Just the thought of it was thrilling. But she held back. Drinking Kyle’s blood wasn’t something to be done on a whim. It would be a sacred act—something meaningful. If she was to claim him as her beloved attachment doll, it would be worth the wait.

Suppressing the overpowering urge to pierce his flesh, Rosanna continued, leaving more and more marks on his skin. The act, at first affectionate, was gradually taking on an almost violent intensity.

Kyle, overwhelmed and helpless under her assault, slapped the sofa in surrender.

“I give up—stop, I surrender!”

Rosanna finally pulled back, her gaze hazy as if she were intoxicated. She had been so absorbed in leaving her marks that Kyle’s skin had turned a patchy shade of red and purple. It would fade in an hour at most—and yet, for some reason, that felt like a shame.

She admired Kyle, panting and disheveled, when something else caught her attention.

“Were you scared?”

“…What?”

“Just now—were you scared?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“You got goosebumps on your neck. Even your fine hairs stood up.”

As if to prove her point, Rosanna ran her fingers over his neck.

“It was because your teeth grazed me. It tickled.”

“…Kyle. Have you ever been afraid of me?”

She finally voiced the question she had been avoiding since speaking with Tanesia. She had wanted to know, but at the same time, she hadn’t wanted to hear the answer.

But now, looking into those ashen-gray eyes, she caught the faintest trace of fear—hidden beneath his exhilaration.

That changed everything. She had to ask.

Kyle hesitated, his expression wary.

“That’s a strange question… what do you mean—”

“Forget it.”

She cut him off before he could answer.

“I really don’t want to hear it after all.”

Rosanna murmured softly, then flashed a bright smile.

“I must be dull. But that works out just fine for me.”

Leaving behind only vague words, she took a deep breath against Kyle’s chest, inhaling his scent until it filled her lungs. It was a fragrance she never tired of.

While Rosanna indulged in her mood shift, Kyle tried to make sense of her fickleness. As he stroked her hair, he reflected on the flow of their conversation—on the underlying thoughts she had left unsaid. It was a puzzle.

Moments like this made him realize how little he truly knew about Rosanna. In reality, he hardly knew anything at all. He liked her, but she was difficult to understand, and there was never enough time to share things with each other. Their meetings always followed the same pattern—she would tease him, the conversation would start to turn serious, and then it would shift into acts of affection.

Physical touch wasn’t the only way to express love, but emotional exchanges between them were rare. He had never been given a true opportunity to understand her on a deeper level.

Could this really be called a healthy relationship? Wasn’t something off?

The doubt that had taken root in his heart began to trouble him. He knew all too well that relationships based purely on physical desire never lasted. He wanted to have at least one meaningful conversation with her. But whenever they met, he always ended up following her lead, swept into her desires.

And today was no different.

Rosanna refused to stay still. She squirmed on top of him, playfully nipping along his neck like a mischievous pup. She probably thought it was a harmless game, but for Kyle, it was pure torment. Having lived a life of chastity, his body was completely unaccustomed to such sensual touches. Even the slightest bit of stimulation made him react.

“Can we… go back down?”

His breathy plea tickled Rosanna’s ear. She lifted her head, gazing at his flushed face.

“Why? I was just starting to feel good.”

Kyle scrambled for an excuse. If he admitted the real reason—that his body was betraying him—he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes afterward.

“The second act is about to begin. I should return to my seat.”

“Then just watch it from here.”

Rosanna scooted to the side, making room beside her.

“Watching alone with you… I don’t think that’s appropriate. Besides, the bishop might come looking for me.”

“You can just say you were caught up in conversation with me and lost track of time. Excuses are easy to come by, aren’t they?”

Right on cue, the orchestra began playing, signaling the start of the second act. Rosanna stepped forward, grasping the curtain that concealed the private balcony.

“All that’s left is for you to get ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Your appearance, of course. You need to fix yourself up before we open this curtain. Otherwise, it’ll look like we spent this whole time having a very heated moment. I wouldn’t mind that, though.”

Kyle instinctively touched his collar. It was still rumpled from when she had tugged on it earlier.

“Y-you should have told me sooner!”

Watching Kyle hurriedly straighten his clothes, Rosanna grinned to herself. Adorable. He was almost unbearably adorable. The desire to claim him as her own grew stronger by the day.

‘Even with all my temptations, he still won’t give in? …Is this not enough? When will you finally fall completely into my hands?’

Tch. She clicked her tongue in silent irritation, frustrated by her own impatience.

As Kyle transformed back into his neat, respectable theology student self, Rosanna pulled open the curtain. The audience remained silent, fully absorbed in the second act of the performance.

But among them, she felt a gaze.

From the diagonal direction, Bishop Johann was watching.

‘Ah, I see.’

Simply severing Kyle from his priesthood wouldn’t be enough. She had to cut away all the ties that connected him to that world—erase every lingering attachment. Otherwise, sentimental nonsense would only attract pests that hovered around him like flies.

Kyle, who was about to have a new home with her, had no need for remnants of the past. But he was soft-hearted, a man who cherished connections. He wouldn’t be able to cast aside the pitiful, burdensome ties of his past so easily. He had been starving for love his whole life. He devoured even the smallest scraps of attention she threw him. It was clear he had grown up longing for affection.

And the one who represented that past the most… was Bishop Johann.

Kyle admired him. He even spoke of him as if he were a father figure. He considered their bond to be something precious.

But he was wrong.

True preciousness wasn’t something given—it was something one longed for with every fiber of their being.

Ingdberry Parish was nothing more than a place he had been forced into. If he had not been an orphan, he never would have ended up there in the first place.

But his connection to Rosanna?

That had been different from the very beginning. Kyle had been drawn to her from the start. He had reached for the handkerchief she offered, he had given her his real name instead of his baptismal one, and even after discovering her lies, he had still chosen to stay.

It had all been his choice.

Which meant…

‘The most precious thing in your life is me, Kyle.’

Rosanna returned to the sofa and sat right next to him.

As expected, he smiled at her—warmly, sweetly.

So fragile.

Johann had been right about one thing—Kyle was too gentle to sever the vines of his past on his own.

Which meant she would have to prune them for him.