Chapter 26
Chapter 026. Let’s Go, to the Land of Anata! (7)
Sionne had to make a conscious effort not to let his awkward expression show. If he were truly the consort she claimed he was, he wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to stay close.
Under normal circumstances, he would have played that role. But something about this situation was different.
The bond they now shared after brushing past death together.
The state of near-nudity between them.
The glances they exchanged, hesitant and uncertain.
The air inside the cave was strange—so heavy it made even swallowing difficult.
“Come on.”
At Rosalyn’s urging, Sionne had no choice but to move closer.
But it wasn’t close enough for Rosalyn’s liking.
He was always closing the distance to throw people off, yet now, of all times, he was maintaining it?
“Tch.”
Rosalyn reached out and pressed her arm against his, pulling part of the blanket over to share it with him.
“!”
Sionne stiffened when their skin touched. Rosalyn noticed and glanced at him from the side.
“…”
But Sionne’s eyes were fixed solely on the fire.
Rosalyn followed his gaze, staring at the flickering flames. As she watched the fire crackle and burn, the words she’d been holding back came out without thinking.
“Sionne Feitan.”
“Yes.”
“Be honest with me. What exactly was our relationship?”
Sionne looked at her, then quickly turned away. Seeing her in just her undergarments made his mind a mess.
“What… do you mean?”
“There are too many strange things when I think about it.”
Rosalyn deliberately leaned in closer as she continued.
As expected, Sionne’s shoulders tensed.
“You freeze up just from a little touch, and I’m supposed to believe we… slept together?”
“…”
“You can’t even look at my body, and you could barely change clothes in front of me. Don’t you find that suspicious?”
Sionne’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
He hadn’t realized she was thinking this deeply. He had been careless.
Steadying his thoughts, Sionne turned to her.
“Then what…”
He locked eyes with her.
“What would I need to do to convince you?”
His hand reached behind her back as he leaned in closer.
Crackling fire. The orange glow flickering between them.
His gaze was filled with emotion—whether it was love or hatred, even he couldn’t tell.
“A relationship that needs to be proven…”
Rosalyn met his eyes and spoke, her voice like a blade.
“That just proves how shallow it was.”
“…”
Sionne fell into silence. The look in his deepened eyes said he wanted to speak.
“There’s no need to prove it if—!”
Before Rosalyn could finish, her vision flipped. He had supported the back of her head and laid her down.
“When have you ever given me the time to prove anything?”
“…”
Rosalyn stared up at him in silence. The blanket slipped off his shoulder and fell.
“Would repeating what we did before I lost my memories be proof enough for you?”
He gently brushed his fingers over the scar on her neck.
His touch made her swallow unconsciously.
“You’ve already forgotten how upset I was that night, when you told me how you got this scar.”
Of course, Sionne Feitan hadn’t felt anything at that time.
“How heartless of you.”
He leaned in and softly bit down on the scar.
“Hnn…”
Rosalyn bit her lip and held her breath at the sting of the sensation.
Sionne ran his tongue over the mark he left, watching her expression carefully.
“How far must you deny me before you’ll be satisfied?”
It was dangerous.
His eyes. His words. And the lower part of him pressing lightly and insistently beneath the shared blanket.
“Your mind might have forgotten me… but your body hasn’t.”
The words he used to toss around casually now fell with heavy, deliberate weight in her ears.
“I visited you many times.”
His hand slid down and pressed lightly against her bare stomach.
“And you accepted me every time… so it won’t be difficult now.”
When his hand began to drift downward—
“…”
Rosalyn’s eyes caught sight of Sionne’s chest. She raised her hand and pressed against it.
“Ugh.”
“You’re hurt.”
The deep gash was from scraping against a tree by the river. His already bruised and battered body now had another wound.
‘Because of me.’
Most of Sionne’s recent injuries had been caused by Rosalyn.
Blisters from harsh terrain.
Bruises from Aaron Vanil’s blows.
And the cut from swimming near the riverbank.
Now Rosalyn had to admit it—the guilt she’d buried behind the weight of responsibility.
“I get it, so move, Sionne.”
She pressed on his wound as she spoke. A rather ruthless gesture for someone supposedly feeling guilty.
“I’ll stop doubting the man who keeps getting hurt because of me.”
She pushed against his shoulder and sat up.
Sionne didn’t resist and let himself be moved.
Perhaps it was for the best. Continuing down that path would’ve been just as burdensome for him.
“…”
An awkward tension lingered between them. The heat that had flared up moments ago had cooled, and now the air was oddly chilly.
“I’m sorry.”
And then came a line that made things even more uncomfortable.
“…”
Sionne froze, unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.
‘What is she sorry for?’
What exactly could Rosalyn de Anata be sorry about?
She had destroyed his homeland. Taken his loved ones hostage. There was no one in his life who had done him more harm than she had.
Yet, he had never expected her to apologize. He never even thought her capable of it.
“I’ve been suspicious of people my whole life. It’s a habit I’ve never been able to break.”
Ah, that. Sionne immediately relaxed.
The apology was so misaligned it was almost hollow.
From his perspective, her being suspicious of him meant nothing. Truly, nothing at all.
“…It’s all right. I was the one being overly emotional.”
Sionne picked up the clothing that had fallen to the ground, dusted it off, and gently draped it over Rosalyn’s shoulders.
Rip!
Suddenly, Rosalyn tore a long strip from the edge of the cloth.
She pressed the cleaner part to his wound.
“I’ll do it.”
Sionne respectfully took the cloth from her hand.
Rosalyn, watching him closely, finally spoke. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be honest for once.
“To be honest, I don’t think I was ready to accept you.”
She wrapped the garment tighter around her shoulders.
“For someone who’s been branded a bastard her whole life, suddenly having a consort just…”
Sionne didn’t want her to continue. He didn’t want to hear more.
Learning what kind of life Rosalyn de Anata had lived… it might make him understand her.
“I understand.”
So he interrupted her. Said he understood—when he didn’t.
“It must have been overwhelming for Your Grace to suddenly find yourself with a consort.”
“…”
Rosalyn didn’t confirm or deny it. But both of them knew that silence meant agreement.
As she stared into the fire for a while, Rosalyn eventually spoke again.
“Still, for someone like me to have accepted a consort… I must have felt something for you.”
Whether those words were meant to comfort Sionne or convince herself, she couldn’t tell.
All she knew was that now—she was curious.
“How did we meet? How did we become whatever this is?”
That much, she was certain of.
“Tell me, Sionne Feitan.”
“You mean… our story?”
“I realized I don’t really know anything. I was so busy denying everything without knowing a thing.”
“…”
But unfortunately, there was no story Rosalyn wanted to hear. Their relationship had never been built on love or passion.
It was born out of power, enforced by a hierarchy.
Initiated by Rosalyn’s one-sided interest.
If anything, it was Sionne who wanted to ask what had been going through the old Rosalyn’s mind.
“…Our first meeting wasn’t on the battlefield.”
But Sionne had to make something up.
The fact that she was curious about their story meant her heart was beginning to open.
And he needed to wedge himself into that opening.
Even if there was no story—he would create one.
‘I can’t let this opportunity slip away.’
