Chapter 47
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 47
The man’s focused gaze was like molten iron, intensely hot. It wasn’t just the intensity in his eyes; it was the tension of knowing her every minor movement was being watched. Wherever his gaze landed, heat flared as if his hands had touched her directly.
His eyes, which had traced the bridge of her nose, her lips, and the soft curve of her jaw before returning to her forehead, now drifted lower. Down her slender neck and collarbone, to the white breasts and erect nipples visible through the loose opening of her robe, her smooth stomach, and further still…
“……”
She swallowed hard. She wanted to say something—anything—to break the taut silence, but whenever she met the blue eyes watching her from over the edge of the paper, her breath caught in her throat. It felt less like reality and more like a dream.
The faint warmth from the fireplace, the dust motes dancing in the air, the scratch of charcoal against paper, the man with his sleeves rolled up, and the fluid, supple movements of his arms and hands.
With every slight tilt of his head, shadows shifted softly across his handsome, clean-cut face. Just as she swallowed a nervous breath, the man suddenly chuckled.
“Relax.”
“…Is it that obvious?”
“Continue what you were saying earlier.”
“What I was saying earlier?”
“Or just talk about anything.”
As she blinked, unsure what to say, River Ross spoke up to help her.
“There are sailors who believe in sirens, too.”
“Ah, I've heard of that. They say many fishermen, especially in the north, truly believe monsters exist. Apparently, they appear most often during the transition from winter to spring.”
Countless legends of sirens had been passed down through the ages, but Vanessa had never fully believed them—not even the stories her own mother told. To her, legends were just superstitions. Ships probably crashed into glaciers that had melted in the spring or reefs hidden by thick fog…
“It’s obviously a story made up to keep sailors on their guard. There are always an unusual number of shipwrecks that time of year, anyway.”
“Right. And they say the sirens devour the shipwrecked men, return to their nests, and conceive new monsters.”
“Using human flesh and blood as nourishment… Some people interpret that as a metaphor for the sexual act.”
“Most sailors believe exactly that. They say a man bewitched by a siren doesn’t even realize what’s happening until the monster kisses him.”
“River Ross, do you believe in things like that?”
“I don't believe in what I haven't seen myself. Don't smile so broadly, Vanessa.”
“Alright.”
She quickly composed the smile that had softened her face. She had finally realized why the man before her didn’t believe in God. It was a reason that was, in fact, quintessentially ‘River Ross.’
Blushing, Vanessa forced her gaze to remain steady. She loved watching River Ross when he was deeply engrossed in something. His firm fingertips smudged the paper, and his hand, gripping the charcoal, swiftly added intricate details. His elegant face, taut with concentration, was slightly flushed.
Sometimes, simply idling away the hours like this was enough. It was perfectly fine to do nothing at all. Just being in the same room, sharing the same time, filled her with a sense of complete contentment. Finally, River Ross looked up.
“Here. Take a look.”
“You’re finished already?”
Vanessa slipped out of bed and walked over to his side. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she took the paper from his hand. A gasp of admiration escaped her the moment she saw it.
It depicted a woman reclining on a wave-swept rock. Her forward gaze was clear and seemingly innocent, but the nails gripping the stone were as sharp as blades. Below her waist, scales shimmered, and her legs, swaying beneath the water, were not human at all, but a long, translucent fish’s tail. Just like a mermaid from the legends.
“I absolutely love it…” Vanessa murmured, staring at the drawing in fascination.
It was her face, yet on closer inspection, it wasn't her at all. The monster in the sketch was both gentle and savage, innocent yet elegant. If those parted lips were to open, they would surely reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Can I keep this?”
“If you want.”
Very carefully, she slipped the drawing between the pages of her manuscript. She would ask Mary to find a small frame for it; she wanted to keep it forever. Looking at this sketch, she felt she could summon courage even in her weakest moments.
After all, the version of her in the drawing possessed sharp claws, razor teeth capable of tearing anything apart, and a fierce, wild nature to cunningly navigate the waves. She even had a tail that could carry her anywhere in the vast, open sea…
Vanessa looked up, suddenly remembering something.
“Oh, and River. I’ll be away from the castle for a week starting tomorrow. I received an invitation from the House of Essex to join them on a hunt.”
“Essex?”
“Yes. To be precise, the invitation was sent to Count Roden, and he asked me to come along. I’ve always declined in the past, using the excuse that I hadn’t made my debut… but since we’re getting married this autumn, he suggested I should gain some experience. He said he’s very fond of hunting.”
He poured whiskey into his glass as he listened. Come to think of it, hunting season was fast approaching. The peak of summer had passed, and the heat was beginning to break. Besides, Count Roden was a man who chased any cheap thrill; a blood-soaked hunt was perfectly suited to his tastes. Yet for all his bravado, the fool had fled at the first chance to serve in the military, using his age as an excuse.
Rumors of the ‘hunts’ Count Roden enjoyed around this time of year often reached even his indifferent ears. Alcohol, women, gambling—a whole week of vulgar, debauched entertainment.
Since the Count had gone so far as to invite his own fiancée, he would likely maintain some semblance of decorum, but it certainly wouldn’t be a genteel affair of riding horses, exchanging polite chatter, and aiming rifles. Though he guessed all of this, he asked as if he knew nothing.
“Have you ever been hunting before?”
“No. I’ve never even learned how to hold a gun.”
“Hold this.”
He gestured toward a long black umbrella propped up by the doorway. Her eyes sparkling with the excitement of learning something new, Vanessa scrambled to her feet and gripped the umbrella like a rifle. Clumsily mimicking a shooting stance she had seen somewhere, she aimed it at River Ross.
“Like this?”
River Ross watched her silently before striding over. Stepping behind her, he took her slender hands in his and adjusted the position of each finger.
“A real rifle will be much heavier than this. Spread your feet and straighten your back. Treat the handle as the buttstock—you need to press it firmly against your shoulder. If you don't mount it properly, the recoil will either send the barrel flying up or dislocate your shoulder.”
“Against my shoulder, like this?”
“A bit higher. The servants will handle loading, so just focus on keeping the barrel steady. Align your target through the sight. It would be right around here.”
He tapped the upper part of the umbrella. Vanessa squinted one eye, focusing on the spot he indicated.
“So I just need to align the target in the center of the sight?”
“It varies from person to person. If the target is stationary, take a test shot first. You can adjust your next one based on where it lands.”
“What if it’s a moving target?”
“Then you have to lead it.”
“That sounds hard.”
“Hold it like this. Keep the barrel about a finger’s width from your cheek.”
He slipped his palm between the umbrella and her cheek. His broad chest pressed against her back, his large hands firmly supporting her from under her arms. She shifted under his guidance until she finally managed a decent stance.
“Now, take a breath. Keep your eyes locked on the target.”
Bang.
With an imaginary gunshot, his grip on her arms tightened. He jerked the umbrella back and up, mimicking the recoil so she could feel it in her shoulder. In that instant, though there was no reason for it, she could almost see a plume of smoke rising before her eyes, just as she’d imagined the sound.
“Once you've fired, lower the muzzle and pull the bolt back to eject the casing.”
She was busy trying to replicate the stance he had taught her when he spoke again.
“Humans aim guns instead of baring their teeth or claws, Vanessa.”
Confused by his cryptic words, she looked up at him.
“It’s an equalizer. A power that allows even the most fragile body to kill a man.”
“……”
“And once you get used to it… you might even mistake a man for a beast and pull the trigger.”