Chapter 46
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 46
Even after the satisfying climax passed, they remained pressed against each other, limbs still tangled. The afterglow of their lovemaking lingered longer than usual today. Vanessa curled up, resting her cheek against his chest as it rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.
She welcomed the comfort of their shared warmth and the sensation of their smooth skin pressed together, even though she couldn't lift a single finger. Tangled in such languid exhaustion, she felt as boneless as a slug stripped of its shell, left with only its tender, vulnerable flesh exposed.
"Ah..."
With a few final, shallow thrusts into her heat, which still gripped him snugly, he withdrew. He was still as hard as if he hadn't finished at all. As he pulled away, a warm fluid trickled down her thigh.
It was a wanton sensation she could never get used to, no matter how many times she experienced it. As Vanessa shivered, he scooped her up, bedsheets and all.
"Ri—River!"
"Don't waste your energy. Just let me."
He gestured toward his own neck. She didn’t want to be carried like a child, but her body, so exhausted she could barely twitch a finger, begged her to concede. After a moment's hesitation, she opened her arms and wrapped them around River Ross's neck.
He lowered her into a bathtub filled with lukewarm water, letting the sheets soak without a second thought. Vanessa let out a soft hiss.
"What is it? Is it cold?"
"No... the temperature is fine. It feels good..."
The water wasn't the issue; her body was. The water stung where he had bitten and kissed her skin raw throughout the night. Vanessa glanced down at herself. Her pale, easily bruised skin was covered in mottled red marks.
This was despite how carefully he had controlled his strength whenever he held her. To swallow the stinging ache, she submerged herself up to her nose, her long hair swaying beneath the surface like golden seaweed.
"Does it still hurt?"
A long, wet hand brushed over her cheeks, tracing the dried tear tracks around her eyes. Only when Vanessa shook her head did his tense expression soften.
Standing up, River Ross scooped cold water from a bucket in the corner and washed the traces of their lovemaking from his own body. While he had tended to her so gently, he washed himself with the brusque efficiency of a soldier in a wartime tent.
Resting her cheek against the edge of the tub, Vanessa watched him move. The water he poured over his head cascaded down his corded muscles like a winding stream. He must have noticed her gaze long ago, yet he didn't show the slightest hint of self-consciousness.
Then again, with a body like that, he had no reason to feel shame. If a sculptor were to capture his likeness perfectly, critics a hundred years from now would surely accuse the artist of exaggeration.
"Vanessa."
Vanessa bolted upright, wiping a trace of drool from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She must have dozed off. Before she knew it, River Ross had washed himself and was already fully dressed.
Chuckling at the long crease mark on her cheek, he reached into the now-cold water. His fingers slipped between her thighs, gently parting her to scoop out the last of his seed. Though Vanessa's spine shuddered every time his fingers brushed against her sensitive skin, she kept her knees raised and let him finish.
With a final rush, the last thick clump of fluid slipped out. He rubbed the bridge of her scrunched-up nose with his wet hand.
"I left your robe over there. Finish washing up and come out. Don't fall asleep this time."
He watched her with a brief smile as she nodded meekly, her face flushed red. He then hung the wet sheet over a rope stretched across the ceiling, creating a makeshift screen.
Glancing warily at the thin partition, Vanessa quickly climbed out of the tub. Gathering her damp, tangled hair, she worked up a rich lather with soap and scrubbed every inch of her body with a soft sponge. Fortunately, there was more than enough water left in the bucket to rinse away the suds.
Feeling much refreshed, she wrapped the robe tightly around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. A fire was crackling in the room's fireplace. Lighting a fire for a couple of hours to drive away the warehouse's dampness had become a familiar routine.
"Here."
Vanessa took a few sips of the water River Ross handed her, then moved away from the fireplace and toward the desk. Her gaze drifted over the items scattered there before stopping on a drawing held down by a paperweight.
It was Linden Station. Though drawn with just a few quick strokes, it vividly captured the bustling energy of the early morning. Admiring it, Vanessa slid the drawing out from under the paperweight to get a closer look.
"When did you draw this?"
Crouched by the fireplace and adjusting the embers, he looked back and replied, "Yesterday morning."
"How are you so good at drawing landscapes?"
"I don't know... It's an old habit. A way of keeping records instead of writing."
"That's amazing. How did you pick up a habit like that?"
"It just happened."
His tone was detached, though he answered every question she asked. She had so much more she wanted to ask, but realizing she had been the only one asking questions, Vanessa swallowed her remaining curiosity.
Besides, it might have just been her imagination, but he didn't seem particularly fond of the topic.
"It's nice to have something you can lose yourself in. Though, for some reason, I can't really picture you drawing."
"Do you want to see?"
"Of course... Landscapes and portraits are great, but have you ever drawn something from your imagination?"
"I don't think I have."
He set down the poker and walked over to the desk. Opening a metal tin, he shaved the tip of a fresh piece of charcoal to a sharp point. Seeing Vanessa watching him with fascination as he cut a sheet of paper and fitted it into his sketchbook, he gestured toward the bed with his chin.
"Sit down."
"...Now?"
"Or lie down, if you prefer."
Startled, Vanessa set the drawing down, not expecting him to make her his subject right then and there. Yet, secretly intrigued, she didn't refuse and awkwardly sat on the edge of the bed.
Theodore rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair, just as he used to do when sketching on the ship's deck. He drew a few quick lines to establish the composition, then looked at Vanessa over the edge of the paper.
"How do you want to be remembered?"
"Me?"
"Imagine it's a portrait that will be discovered a hundred years from now."
"That's hard..."
"Use your imagination for me."
Vanessa furrowed her brow in thought for a moment, then looked up, her eyes sparkling.
"A double agent with dual citizenship?"
"...Is that what you want to be?"
"Yes. At least once in my life."
A look of sheer disbelief flashed in his eyes. Vanessa couldn't help but burst into giggles. He was a military man, after all. Especially a naval officer—a group renowned for their fierce loyalty to the royal family. Her words must have sounded utterly bizarre to him.
Pondering again, Vanessa curled her fingers like claws. "Then how about a terrifying person? Someone with sharp claws and fangs."
"What kind of monster is that supposed to be?"
"Fine, a monster. My name is practically one anyway."
Theodore slowly studied her as she began to relax. Her expression had softened, and a faint smile even played on her lips.
"Did the previous Count give you that name?"
"No. My mother did."
Siren. He had thought it an unusual name for a noblewoman ever since he first heard it. People didn't typically name their children after monsters, unless they meant it as a curse.
As if feeling obligated to answer the unspoken question in his eyes, Vanessa spoke.
"She said that while she was pregnant with me, she saw a woman on the shore."
"A woman?"
"The woman beckoned her to come closer, so she walked toward her. When she came to her senses, she was already waist-deep in the water. The fishermen who saved her said she'd been bewitched by a siren."
"..."
"And they warned her never to go near the sea when winter approached. They said anyone who had seen a siren once would keep encountering them."
"..."
"She found the story so fascinating that it stayed with her for a long time. My mother loved stories like that."
"Stay like that."
It was the exact moment a faint, fleeting smile settled on her lips like mist. His command was sharp, as if trying to pin the fleeting moment in place, and her body tensed.
"Just turn your head this way."
Vanessa awkwardly turned to look at him. Seeing her face go completely stiff again, Theodore let out a low chuckle.
"Raise your gaze a bit more."
Vanessa lifted her chin slightly. Before she knew it, she was leaning back in a relaxed posture. Theodore's gaze, shifting between his sketchbook and her, was intensely serious.
Only then did she realize she was facing him wearing nothing but a loosely tied robe. Beneath the thin fabric, which clung to her damp skin and clearly outlined the curves of her body, she wore absolutely nothing.