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It wasn’t as if she lacked perception, so why hadn’t she noticed this, and why had she insisted on prying and even sternly suggested calling the royal physician?

Besides, wasn’t it truly unnecessary worry?

Of course he couldn’t possibly be ill.

Why did he say he wasn’t well when he wasn’t actually sick?

No, he certainly was in a not-well state, even if not ill.

Was it… not well? At least for me.

Following the rapidly branching thoughts to their conclusion—that his condition was ‘because of her’—Riina’s cheeks burned.

“Riina?”

Einar tried to withdraw his hand as he felt Riina’s hand press down harder on his, worried that her thin, delicate skin might be hurt by his rough, dry palm.

But Riina instead firmly held his hand in place and spoke.

“Just stay like this for a while.”

And then Einar belatedly realized.

The heat transmitted from the hand covering her eyes and, beneath his palm, the glimpse of her reddened cheeks.

Then, as if by agreement, Einar too asked as obliviously as Riina had:

“Your face is hot? Did you suddenly develop a fever?”

Unlike him, she was always at risk of injury and illness.

Hadn’t she mentioned that whenever she rode in a carriage, something would break down, which was why she always carried spare wheels even in her specially ordered carriage?

Moreover, based on his experience with her, there were countless stones to trip over, unidentified objects flying from nowhere, and sometimes even animals.

‘Still, it’s much less severe when I’m with you, Einar.’

Even in a situation where he could have blurted out, “This is less severe?” Riina had smiled faintly, seemingly slightly pleased.

If she hadn’t been a Bolshevik, she would have lost her life long ago in some unknown place.

At that time, how fortunate it seemed that she was of the bloodline of the Bolsheviks, whose hands were so precious.

Following this same logic, he too, like Riina, never imagined that she might be blushing at the fact that she was holding his hand.

If a third party were watching, they might have frowned at how people in love tend to grow alike—truly becoming similar in the most unnecessary ways.

But the two involved were serious, and now, in contrast to before, it was Einar who began to worry about Riina.

“Riina? Riina. Show me your face. You’re getting feverish, let me check your condition.”

No matter how cold his hands were, the heat he felt from her face was not something that could be dismissed as a mild fever.

Reluctantly, Riina’s dry lips parted at his voice filled with nothing but concern and his expression—which she could picture without seeing—with eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“…cause of you.”

But her voice, like a faint exhalation, was too soft to hear no matter how closely he listened.

Unable to understand the most important ‘reason,’ Einar was about to ask again, but Riina spoke once more.

“I said the fever is because of you.”

At her voice that flowed like a sigh tickling his ear, with a tone that seemed somewhat resentful as if blaming him, Einar closed his open mouth.

Soon after, in the blink of an eye, his back stiffened as he precisely understood her words.

Was it tension, excitement, or perhaps both?

Wasn’t this the same Riina who had remained indifferent to whatever he did?

Even when their lips had touched, she had simply dismissed it as an accident and moved on calmly.

That had certainly been the case.

It must be related to her suddenly changed attitude.

But he could ask for the reason later.

No, he didn’t want to ask.

If she were to turn away again when asked for the reason…

Despite his impatient heart, Einar approached Riina cautiously, without making a sound.

Creating a shadow that enveloped her entire body, he furrowed his brow as if restraining himself.

And just as she felt his still-intertwined hand grow a little colder—

“May I hold you?”

At the low, somehow suppressed voice flowing past her ear, the lake pooled in Riina’s blue eyes rippled greatly.

Einar didn’t miss that momentary tremor.

How could he? It was the moment he had been waiting for so long.

Although he had shown a reaction like a boy who had never experienced first love, blushing just from holding hands, the fact remained that he was a seasoned hunter.

He pulled Riina into his embrace.

Like opposite poles of magnets drawn to each other, the bodies of the unluckiest woman and the man with incomparable luck pressed together.

The familiar cool breeze scent from his embrace wafted so strongly it was almost suffocating.

It resembled the open field where the wind raged without obstacle—the place Einar had said he liked most.

Riina momentarily held her breath, but her fingertips trembled slightly at the feeling of his scent, which enveloped her entire body, seeping beneath her skin.

And to that same extent, Einar too tightly closed his eyes at the rose fragrance rising from her.

Knowing already that this was a scent he could only detect when close enough to Riina to be considered pressed against her, he had to restrain himself.

His desire to bury his nose in her white nape right away.

To suppress the boiling desire rising within him, Einar pressed his cheek against the top of her head.

Her hair fluttered with his thick breath escaping between his parted lips, and he finally lowered his lips.

Since he couldn’t possibly sink his teeth into her deer-like long, white nape according to his desire, he settled for the closest place—Riina’s crown.

As his breath scattered over the top of her head, Riina’s slender shoulders trembled so faintly it was almost imperceptible.

What was it about this?

Being embraced like this was something that had happened before…

No, perhaps it was different from before.

Just like holding hands, only now did she feel so vividly with her entire body that she was in his embrace.

Riina’s hand, which had reflexively moved to push him away from the warmth touching her cheek, the solid body so different from her own, and the heat rising from his arms wrapped around her waist, paused with a twitch.

She didn’t want to push him away.

At least right now, she sincerely wanted to stay just like this.

Recalling what she had said to him before made her feel shameless, as if she had sold her conscience, but…

She had denied him before he could even open his mouth, before he could speak.

Because she wanted to be free, and to be free, she had to sever her relationship with ‘this Second Prince.’

And because she wanted to stand solely on her own strength.

That’s why she had covered Einar’s mouth.

That day, at that time, knowing what he was going to say, she had not accepted it.

Riina wasn’t brazen enough to say that was then and this is now.

Especially regarding this kind of relationship.

Should it be called ‘this kind of relationship’? She felt as if her tongue would melt from the heat just trying to put it into words.

She who had, before the regression, unilaterally believed herself to be in such a relationship with Smith, ready to give him her liver and gallbladder if needed.

Far from being brazen, she had been excessively fearful and timid, and as a reaction to that, she had desperately struggled not to be abandoned.

Smith and Einar were such different people that comparing them would be an insult to Einar, and unlike with Smith, whom she had sought as something to cling to, she had tried not to rely on Einar at all.

In any case, after saying such things to him, it was embarrassing to now close her eyes and selfishly indulge herself.

Of course, if Einar could read her mind, he would have begged her to indulge in that selfishness to her heart’s content, but unfortunately, she currently had her nose buried in his chest.

By the time embracing him began to feel beyond embarrassment into awkwardness, Riina’s back twitched slightly.

Simultaneously, she began to feel afraid before taking another step toward him.

If she stayed with him, could she truly stand on her own strength without depending on him?

She knew her misfortune would not disappear.

So she wanted to live regardless of it.

But if Einar was by her side, wouldn’t that very premise be impossible from the start?

Because his luck would offset her misfortune.

But, even so…

Did she really have to live while enduring her misfortune, holding only the empty shell of freedom gained through resignation and abandonment?

If she had no choice at all, that hollow freedom might have truly felt unburdened.

Her heart wavered dozens of times per second.

Amidst these complex thoughts swirling around, Riina found herself embracing his back with both arms.

The moment he felt the hesitation in her slender arms and yet the strength with which she didn’t let go, Einar barely suppressed his bubbling desire and smiled with utmost satisfaction.

And so, a man who couldn’t find meaning in anything and a woman who couldn’t place meaning in anything became meaning to each other.

Now they would never again regard moments of holding hands, sharing warmth in each other’s embrace, or the brushing of their lips as they had before.

Riina didn’t say she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t even have the chance to feel that way.

The pounding of her heart seemed to beat throughout her entire body, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Einar too was seething.

No, he desired even more.

He wanted to keep her caged within him, even if it meant the last drop of blood flowing beneath his skin would evaporate.

Afterward, the two spent quite a long time leaning against each other without enough space between them for even a sheet of paper to pass through, pouring time entirely into each other.