Chapter 39

Chapter 39

“Ah, right. Even if I wash it… it’s still kind of gross, isn’t it?”

Rose quickly covered the handkerchief with both hands, embarrassed at how soaked it was with tears and snot.

James chuckled softly.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.”

He kept smiling as he added,

“It’s just that, Rose, I’m starting to think collecting men’s handkerchiefs might be your hobby.”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Didn’t you take one of mine before?”

Rose’s eyes widened in slow horror.

“Aaah!”

Memory flooded back of the handkerchief theft she’d completely forgotten about.

“I’ll find it the moment we arrive and return it to you! Really! I’m so sorry!”

“Ah, no need to worry.”

James reached into his coat with exaggerated flourish and waved something in the air.

“Worst case, I’ll just use this one as my personal handkerchief.”

“Aaaaagh!”

Rose forgot she was in a moving carriage and lunged at him in a panic, trying to snatch it back.

It had been washed and pressed, looking somewhat presentable, but the shrunken lace trim and the old tea stain remained.

It was the same ratty handkerchief James had taken that first night they’d shared a bed.

THUD!

The carriage jolted violently as its wheel hit a rock in the road.

“Ah…!”

Rose lost her balance completely and fell straight toward James.

Whump!

His scent, his warmth, hit her all at once—she was practically trapped in his arms.

She wanted to die of embarrassment, fling the carriage door open and jump out, but before she could react, that intoxicating flow of mana hit her without warning.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

James quickly grabbed her and set her upright again, though his own voice was unsteady.

He hadn’t planned for her to topple onto him and had lost control of the mana he was feeding her, releasing far too much at once.

Rose was left panting, trying to catch her breath.

Her body had grown used to his mild, carefully controlled mana; this sudden surge was far too intense and stimulating.

“Rose. I’m sorry. I went too far with the joke.”

His voice wasn’t its usual calm or teasing tone—it was tight, a little shaky with worry.

Rose met his eyes.

Those clear blue eyes, always so sharp and confident, were actually wavering.

He always teased her so relentlessly, always seemed in control. Seeing him look so genuinely rattled left her stunned and off-balance.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. I’m fine. It was my fault for falling over.”

The carriage jerked again as its wheels caught on what must have been a tree root.

James’s big hand reflexively gripped her shoulder, keeping her from falling a second time. This time the mana that flowed into her was calm and steady, just like before.

“Thank you.”

“…Don’t mention it.”

Silence fell.

Outside, the muffled rhythm of hooves over dirt was the only sound, making the stillness in the cabin feel even deeper.

His hand on her shoulder was warm.

She’d gotten so used to focusing only on the flow of his mana—the energy of it, the sensation of it—that the simple, human heat of his touch hit her in a new way.

‘It’s just surprise. I’m only startled, that’s all.’

But even as she told herself that, she couldn’t deny the very real heat of his palm, the subtle insistence in his touch.

And she found herself speechless, just sitting there, feeling that warmth on her shoulder.

She tried to guess what he was trying to tell her without words—but even after agonizing over it all the way to the bustling hotel district where they were due to arrive, she couldn’t figure it out.

Meanwhile, the Dautryche family mansion in Romberton was in utter chaos from dawn.

They’d been preparing for days, of course—but there was always a special urgency, a unique tension, on the actual day of the master’s return.

After all, their young master, James Dautryche, hadn’t been home in quite some time.

And this time he wasn’t coming alone.

He was bringing a woman.

A young woman.

Not just any guest, but his fiancée.

The entire household staff had nearly keeled over in shock at the news.

Several maids who had quietly nursed crushes on James went off sobbing and didn’t come back to work, while the more gossip-prone staff gathered in tight little groups to speculate about what kind of woman their master’s fiancée could possibly be.

“Mr. Bonard, you’re the chief secretary—you must know what kind of person the master’s fiancée is!”

Philip, James’s private secretary, looked like he was ready to collapse.

“Ugh, I don’t know. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. I’d like to keep my job, thanks!”

He had given that same answer five—no, maybe eight times that day already, and now he was running up the grand central staircase two steps at a time.

“Mr. Butler! Sir! We just got word that the master’s arrived at Romberton Station.”

“What? We don’t have much time then. Anne, Anna—do one last check of the state of things, and let the kitchen know he’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

The butler barked instructions at the two senior maids, then hurried off with Philip in tow.

“You lot! Stop gossiping and get moving. If you’re done with your tasks, don’t loiter in the lobby—wait at your posts! The master will be here in thirty minutes!”

At the butler’s command, the previously scattered and noisy household snapped to attention in an instant.

But not every servant was a model of discipline.

Some found little hidden corners in which to keep whispering and speculating.

“Mary Anne apparently opened one of Miss Taylor’s trunks by accident and said it was full of weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff? Like foreign antiques or something?”

“No, like scales, a cauldron, dried herbs, and animal bones.”

“Herbs I get—but animal bones? Is she a taxidermist or something?”

“Hey, what’s so funny over here?”

“We’re just debating if Miss Taylor is a witch, an apothecary, or a scientist.”

The rumor—whether Miss Taylor was a witch, an apothecary, or a mad scientist—spread through the massive mansion in less than ten minutes.

The housekeeper eventually noticed the gossip and scolded them harshly, but it did little good. The excitement of being among the first to see James Dautryche’s scandalous fiancée was just too much.

The Dautryche mansion itself was so grand it was considered one of Romberton’s main tourist attractions.

Ordinary people couldn’t go inside, but even glimpsing it over the high walls was enough to count as “seeing the city,” it was said. Its striking architecture was even credited with leaving a mark on modern building design.

James’s father, the previous Dautryche Company head, had built it as a wedding gift for his wife.

Now it belonged entirely to James.

Rumors about who would one day become its mistress had long been a favorite game—everyone speculated endlessly.

A marriage of convenience to expand business? Or would it take a dangerously clever femme fatale no one could control?

Even journalists hadn’t managed to get a proper adult photo of James, leaving staff and the public alike to keep guessing.

Today, all that speculation was blown to pieces.

The betting pools were ruined.

Because the woman James Dautryche publicly announced as his fiancée turned out to have a truly unexpected profile.

[Official announcement from Dautryche Company]
This era’s luckiest girl and Cinderella bride-to-be is none other than the renowned necromancer Miss V from Morgenia.

“Are you insane?”

Rose thrust the morning paper at James, voice shaking with fury.

“I’m perfectly sane.”

“You hired me to help you—and then you announce our engagement to every paper in the country? How am I supposed to find anyone when my face is plastered everywhere?”

James answered without even blinking.

“Unless you plan to wander around Romberton in your Olgha Blavatsky getup, I see no problem.”

For the entire two-hour train ride from Linden to Romberton, Rose had been clutching that newspaper, practically vibrating with rage.

“You think the reporters don’t know what I look like? Or that they won’t figure out Olgha Blavatsky is really me?”

James’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“Ha! And here I thought you said your face was too handsome to go unnoticed when you visit the mansion.”

“Say that one more time.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m handsome.”

“James! Stop trying to change the subject!”

It wasn’t even that long a journey. James had insisted on the company’s private first-class carriage precisely for this reason.

No matter how heated their argument got in here, no one outside could overhear it.

Even though he’d heard it all his life, the fact that Rose called him handsome was something he wasn’t going to let go so easily. He practically dared her to say it again, knowing no one else would ever hear.