Chapter 30
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 30
It was a muggy afternoon, just after a sudden shower had passed. Vanessa, idly flipping through a magazine by the half-open window, let out a vacant sigh. Her hand, which had been turning the pages out of habit, finally stilled, though her gaze remained distant and unfocused.
Her body felt exceptionally heavy today. Was it the weather, which had suddenly turned so hot and humid? Even sitting perfectly still, she felt her energy draining away. Her hands trembled slightly as a cold sweat broke out on her skin.
Clutching her throbbing stomach, she pressed her flushed cheek against the cool surface of the desk. From her tilted perspective, the familiar sights of the room came into view, along with the faint scent of the perfume River Ross had left behind—lingering proof that he had been here only moments ago.
Though it's already fading.
The breeze drifting through the window was already sweeping the scent away. After a moment’s hesitation, Vanessa uncapped the perfume bottle on the desk and took a shallow breath. Ridiculously, the nausea that had plagued her all day seemed to ease slightly.
"Vanessa."
Having drifted into a sudden, heavy daze, Vanessa was slow to realize the voice was real. A dark shadow fell over her as River Ross leaned in. She blinked her hazy eyes, trying to look up at him with a welcoming expression.
"River. When did you get here?"
Backlit by the brilliant light pouring through the door, River Ross’s face was cast in shadow. But she knew it was him from the warmth radiating from his skin, the fresh scent of garden grass clinging to him, and the familiar way he leaned against her desk.
"About half an hour ago. I was in the garden."
"The garden?"
"A new variety of rose arrived. The gardeners looked busy, so I gave them a hand."
"A new variety?"
Intrigued by the rare news, Vanessa shifted her cheek against the desk. Seeing her listless movement, River Ross’s lips curved into a faint smile.
"If you're curious, you can go see for yourself. But Vanessa..."
"Yes?"
"You look exhausted."
"Um… I don't know. Maybe it's the heat. I guess I'm just tired."
"It looks like you were up all night."
"Not really."
River Ross brushed the backs of his fingers against her forehead and cheek, as if checking for a fever. The touch of his cool skin against her flushed face made everything feel more bearable—the stifling heat, her sluggish body, and the dark, unpleasant mood that had hung over her since her meeting with Count Roden.
As she sat up with a languid sigh, River Ross deftly slid the magazine out from under her arm.
"...A circus?"
"Ah, that."
Yawning, Vanessa pointed to the advertisement. Next to illustrations of two-headed twins, a woman with a snake draped around her neck, and a monkey leaping through a ring of fire, elegant script boasted: First 47-City Tour.
"The Sitariri Circus is in town. Their first show is tonight."
Sitariri. Theodore smiled faintly at the ridiculous name. They were clearly a band of swindlers who had slapped together a name that sounded vaguely Eastern Continental to capitalize on Ingram's recent obsession with the New Continent.
They claimed to be on a forty-seven-city tour, but their true caliber was obvious if they had to crawl all the way out to a backwater like Somerset. It was bound to be a cheap, fraudulent show, far too crude to fool the sharp-witted citizens of the capital. Losing interest, he folded the magazine and tossed it back onto the desk.
"River, let's go see it together."
His hand paused for a fraction of a second before he tilted his head, smoothly masking his hesitation.
"This?"
"Doesn't it look fun?"
Her grey eyes, suddenly bright and clear, were teasing him. It was ironic how excited she looked when her face was still so pale. Vanessa stretched, extending her long limbs.
"My uncle seems to be in a good mood lately. If we're lucky, I think he'll let me go out."
"I thought you said you weren't feeling well."
"All the more reason to move around a bit. Besides, it's been so long since I've seen a circus."
Been so long. Every time she casually referenced memories that could not possibly exist between them, an uncomfortable thorn pricked at him before vanishing. Theodore stared down at the blonde hair clinging to her slender nape, then reached out to brush it aside, offering her some relief from the heat.
"You're asking for trouble."
"But the weather is far too nice to stay inside."
"Fine, then."
"Really? You'll come with me?"
"You said you wanted to see it. Of course we'll go."
Vanessa stared at him, momentarily speechless. Whenever she was with him, she was seized by a strange, inexplicable feeling. She hadn't understood it before, but now she had a vague inkling. He treated her like an ordinary woman.
As if she possessed a freedom that required no one's permission. As if she could see whatever she wished and go wherever she pleased.
"I should wash up."
Letting go of her hair, River Ross turned away. Feeling sticky as his body began to cool, he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back. A bead of sweat rolled down his nape and disappeared beneath his shirt collar.
Vanessa swallowed slowly. Was this stifling heat from the weather, or was it desire?
“……”
Sometimes, River Ross was breathtakingly beautiful. Especially in moments like this, when he let slip the raw, untamed vigor of his youth. She loved it when, in the dead of summer, a man with a face colder than anyone else succumbed to the heat and desire like any ordinary mortal.
The urge to slip her hands beneath his shirt and rub her palms against his hot, firm skin was a fierce torment. She wanted to touch him this very second, to feel the vibrant life pulsing through him.
"Vanessa. You have a wicked look in your eye."
“……”
"Like you want to strip me bare and devour me right here."
"I did not..."
Because her thoughts had been exactly that, she couldn't even muster a proper protest. With a soft chuckle, River Ross ruffled her bangs and walked past. He crossed the room, scooped water from a brass basin, and splashed it over his sun-warmed skin.
Vanessa watched without blinking, burning the image into her mind. Droplets of water clung to his smooth cheeks, eyelashes, and lips, looking impossibly fresh. Running a hand with prominent veins through his wet hair, he crossed his arms and pulled off his damp shirt, tossing it aside.
The sunlight cast a reddish glow on his broad, sweat-slicked shoulders. His muscles, hot as forged iron, flexed with supple power at every movement.
"Madame Luther, I believe this method is nothing but a trick."
Over this vivid, vital scene, the memory of the previous night drifted back like a fog—a memory of being surrounded by people who seemed closer to death than to life.
"Forgive my bluntness. I don't have the luxury of time to mince words. The Count stepped out because he trusts you, Madame Luther, but he will grow suspicious if we delay too long."
"I see you do not trust me, my lady."
"I know you only said those things to frighten me."
The strange glint in the old woman's eyes at that moment… Had she been looking at her as if she were an incredibly insolent creature?
"Holy water mixed with blood sounds plausible, but it is merely water. In the end, it’s a test of conscience. If your conscience is clear, your arm won't tremble. If you have something to fear, it will."
“……”
"And a trembling arm will surely spill whatever is placed upon it."
"I am not entirely sure what you are trying to say."
"The Count is waiting just outside, and he trusts you. Whether I spill the holy water or not, you can spin whatever tale you wish."
“……”
"I want to buy those words from you."
After a brief silence, Madame Luther let out a sharp, clear laugh.
"It seems half the rumors about you are wrong, my lady. I was told you were naive."
"Name your price."
She replied calmly, doing her best to hide her anxiety. In any transaction, the more desperate party always stood to lose—just as she had when she begged River Ross to make a contract with her.
"That depends on what you want, my lady. Adding a few words is easy enough, but a woman like me lives and dies by her reputation."
Despite her shameless response, the price Madame Luther demanded was surprisingly modest. It wasn't as if she needed a grand lie, and in the end, the look in the old woman's eyes as she watched her leave was unmistakably one of pity.
"Contact me if you find yourself with child. I will show you how to make it disappear without a trace."
And Vanessa had willingly paid the price. She only needed to keep up the pretense until the end of the summer. In the past, she would have welcomed the truth, thinking it wouldn't matter even if she confessed to the Count. But now, she was hiding it with desperate fervor because…
"Vanessa."
Her drifting thoughts abruptly snapped. A firm hand gently cupped her chin, tilting her face upward. River Ross had closed the distance without her realizing it. He leaned down, one hand resting on the back of her chair, his eyes fixed on hers.