Chapter 13
“Do you only feel satisfied when you touch me like this?”
“Ugh……”
“Hmm? Do you only feel satisfied when you pick fights with me like this?”
“I never asked you to touch me……”
“So you can only say things that are guaranteed to make people lose their temper.”
Riret clenched the white sheets tightly. The deep wrinkles mirrored her emotions. Watching her hand tremble with suppressed anger, Valderion let out a faint, indifferent smile even in a situation like this.
Even when there was an easier path, her stubborn nature always twisted things into this kind of mess.
In the end, Valderion could only express regret that today’s situation had once again gone in an unpleasant direction.
“Why are you always so difficult? You could at least accept a person’s goodwill obediently.”
“Is that really goodwill? Or do you consider it your right?”
“Both.”
Finding her lying prone inconvenient, he grabbed Riret’s ankle and pulled her toward himself.
The sensation of being dragged by the ankle made Riret feel a faint chill.
Her upper body, half draped off the bed, slid downward, and her body turned. Before she knew it, she was sitting upright with her back against the bed. Valderion adjusted his posture and properly held her legs.
He lifted the skirt that had been in the way from the start.
At that, Riret swiftly grabbed it down again. Even now, her remaining stubbornness was enough to make one sigh.
“I always think this, but I don’t understand what gives you the confidence to act like an untamed horse.”
“I don’t have anything to rely on.”
For once, she answered obediently, and Valderion looked up at her. Riret was looking down at her own legs being massaged by his hands rather than at him.
Her lowered eyes were blank and distant.
“So I have nothing to lose.”
“That explains it.”
It made sense.
Being cautious was something only those who had something to protect did. People who had something to guard always stepped back and acted carefully.
On the other hand, those who had nothing in their hands—who had nothing to lose even if they acted recklessly—tended to act without hesitation. That fearless attitude was also sometimes seen in those who, having lost everything, made their final desperate stand.
Of course, there were many things a human had to protect—both tangible and intangible. Life itself was one of them.
Not wanting to die was reason enough to be cautious.
But perhaps that did not apply to Riret.
Well.
If she truly feared death, she would not have run barefoot into the harsh winter forest in nothing but thin clothing. It was only a guess, but perhaps back then she had collapsed in the snow fully prepared to die.
That was the problem.
Courage that erased even the fear of leaving this world.
That was what always made things difficult for him.
“Hngh……”
Riret’s shoulders flinched slightly.
His hand, which had been moving repeatedly along her ankles and calves, pressed into the hollow of her knee.
Valderion felt her gaze brush over his face. Riret adjusted her expression as if trying not to reveal that her tension was gradually easing. Though, by now, the way her legs twitched likely already gave her away.
He had thought he would stop after a short while, but he had already spent more than half of the usual thirty minutes massaging her legs. His large hands, with knuckles more pronounced than hers, pushed against her skin in a strange, unfamiliar sensation.
Dailan’s hands had also often touched her in similar places, but the crown prince never moved with this kind of calmness or lack of threat. When his hands touched her, it was only to break bones or deliberately tear at her skin.
Valderion’s hands finally withdrew from beneath her skirt.
Riret, who had been leaning back on the bed, quickly straightened and pulled her skirt down.
At that moment, something came toward her.
It was his hand—the same hand that had been inside her skirt moments ago.
She realized a beat later that it meant he was telling her to take it and stand up. But unwilling to obey, she pushed herself up using the bed. Seeing this, he simply withdrew his hand without the slightest embarrassment, as if he had expected it.
What surprised Riret more was something else.
As she had already experienced through the stiffness in his hands, this—this feeling still didn’t feel real.
The foreign sensation that had felt like she was borrowing someone else’s legs returned all at once. It was disorienting, like her fingers regaining their original form after being frozen.
“What kind of scheme are you plotting lately?”
Valderion, turning as he noticed she had finally settled into a proper posture, asked abruptly.
“I hear you’ve been collecting books from the library nonstop.”
“……”
“What, is your dream to become a bookworm?”
“Think whatever you want.”
Because he brought up books, the fact that she might only have five years left to live resurfaced unbidden in her mind. Her mood turned sharper, and her reply came out curt.
Valderion frowned but, as if too bothered to argue further, tilted his head.
“Are you cold here?”
The sudden question was as unexpected as its timing.
Riret tilted her head slightly.
“It seems the annex doesn’t retain heat well, even when the fireplace is lit,” he added.
It sounded strangely like concern. As if he were worried about her.
No.
That wasn’t his intention. It would be closer to obligation than concern—simply taking care of a woman who might become important to his future lifeline.
And yet, the words still came across as if he would accommodate anything for her health, making Riret slightly speechless.
“I’m fine with the cold. Rather, I’d like to take a walk……”
“……”
“…That’s not allowed, is it?”
Crackle.
Sparks from the winter-lit fireplace scattered into the air. The red glow cast across the man’s eyes, leaving no room for hesitation. Those eyes showed absolute refusal.
“You really do ask exhausting questions.”
Though she had tried to be careful, the response remained cold.
Rubbing his temple as if dealing with a headache, he continued.
“This is why I didn’t want to allow it.”
“……”
“That’s human nature. Once the shackles are loosened and you can freely move about the library, you start wanting to go outside as well.”
Valderion stepped closer to her.
One step, two steps.
His shadow slowly consumed the tips of her feet. Riret instinctively stepped back but was stopped by the bed and collapsed onto it.
Valderion leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her.
“Listen, Riret.”
A chill ran down her spine.
It felt like a spark had landed on her ear.
Only then did she realize.
He had called her name.
“You’re not some guest carefully placed here.”
The blunt truth landed harder than a direct accusation. It didn’t just define her situation—it distorted the very ground she stood on. Riret said nothing, only looking up at him.
A sudden thought crossed her mind.
Did this man know?
That an “independent name-bearer” would die from a shortened lifespan?
The suffocating confinement of staying here all day pressed against her throat.
She hesitated, then ultimately did not ask.
Because whether he knew or not, it would make no difference to him. If their relationship solidified in that one-sided direction, she would become nothing more than someone he would never touch again.
And speaking it aloud would feel like acknowledging her own death scattered across every corner of her life.
“I know.”
So Riret ended the topic.
She didn’t want to pick at the wound any further, and neither did he. There was no time or space for full honesty between them anyway.
The thought left a bitter taste.
In the past, in the present, she had always been alone.
And perhaps in the future as well.
A lonely figure discarded in a corner. Whether she died or not, no one would care……
Her thoughts deepened, leaving only bitterness in her mouth. She shook her head slightly as if to clear it, only then realizing his gaze was fixed on her like a blade.
“You should try not to think so much.”
As if imprisoning her wasn’t enough, now he was trying to restrain her very thoughts.
There was no point arguing. It would only escalate into something rougher.
She was too tired for that today.
In any case, even if he told her not to think, she would.
“I want to wash up,” she said.
“Didn’t you already bathe earlier?”
That attitude—pushing her into a bath and then acting like this—only made her frown deeper.
Ignoring him, she headed toward the bathroom.
Her legs moved more smoothly than usual, as if they were finally cooperating with her will. It almost felt strange how naturally she moved.
When she finished bathing and returned, only the dying embers remained in the room. Drops of water clung to her feet, dampening the floor.
A familiar loneliness felt, today, as if it were tightening around her throat.
