Chapter 53

Chapter 53

As soon as they slipped in through the back door disguised as part of an ordinary house, they were greeted by James’s secretary, Philip Bonnard.

“Welcome back, sir. Miss Taylor.”

James gave him a level look.

“What is it?”

“We’ve just received an urgent call from the southern distribution network.”

“I’ll look into it immediately. Ah—and dispose of this for me. Don’t just throw it away. Burn it completely.”

“James!”

Rose yelped as James tossed a bundle to Philip.

“Why are you burning that? It’s mine!”

She snatched it right back from Philip’s arms with a furious glare.

“You deserve better.”

“What is that supposed to mean? That’s not an answer!”

“It means stop wearing cheap synthetic crap full of holes that can’t even keep the wind out.”

“…Unbelievable.”

Rose planted her palm against her forehead, speechless.

Philip stood there with an awkward smile, unsure what to do as the tension simmered between them.

James turned to him again.

“I’ll buy her something much nicer. Burn it. Unless there’s some reason it can’t be burned?”

Rose stared at James in exasperation before shaking her head.

“No, no reason. Fine. But you promise, it has to be something ‘much’ nicer.”

Philip, forced to play mediator in this absurd squabble after they’d been out all day, cleared his throat and left quickly with the bundle in hand.

Once Philip scurried off like a shrimp caught in a whale fight, James finally spoke again.

“I’ll come to your room once I finish up.”

“My room?”

“Too many people come and go from my office.”

Rose nodded; they needed somewhere private to talk about Betty’s murder. His office was technically a private space, but it was the first place anyone knocked on if they needed him, making it impossible to have an uninterrupted conversation.

Besides, the murder wasn’t even resolved yet, and lurid tabloid rumors were spreading uncontrollably about James and Rose thanks to the newspapers’ trashy speculation.

Because of that, James’s personal lawyer—and even the Dautryche Company’s legal team—kept knocking at his office door all day long.

While they might come to Rose’s room if it was something urgent, anyone with basic manners would at least knock and wait outside.

Sitting on her bed, Rose picked up the ring Grace had left behind, studying it carefully. The serpent biting its own tail felt oddly familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before.

Well, it’s a famous symbol. No wonder it feels familiar.

But even before she used magic to read the object’s memories, images from Frehen Street forced themselves into her mind—Betty’s final moments, which she’d been forced to witness.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut hard.

Even so, the vision wouldn’t leave. Her heart pounded and sweat trickled cold down her spine; she felt like she might faint.

She forced herself to take deep breaths to calm the racing in her chest just as James entered, having finished his urgent business.

He took one look at her pale face.

“You don’t look well. Maybe you should rest.”

“No, I’m fine.”

She gave him a small smile, trying to look reassuring.

“Are you all right, James?”

“I’ve delegated most of it to Philip. I’ll have two quiet hours, at least.”

He pulled up a chair and sat heavily in front of her.

From this close, he could see she was still too pale. He resolved to keep the conversation brief so she could lie down.

“What exactly did this Grace woman say to you?”

During the ride back in the carriage, Rose had promised to explain everything later and then fallen silent, gazing out the window with so many tangled emotions in her profile that James hadn’t even tried to interrupt.

Now she lowered her eyes and spoke quietly.

“James… I’m sorry. This is bigger than I thought. It’s not just me. You’re caught up in this too.”

She told him everything about her encounter with Grace—every word they’d exchanged, everything she’d pieced together.

James listened in silence before frowning deeply.

“So Grace is one of these fanatics, like Robert Burns. But she said they don’t really want to harm us?”

His brow furrowed even further.

“Hah. The arrogance. They really think that little of us.”

“I don’t know exactly how much they know. They definitely know about me—but they also know you’re Revis. So maybe…”

“Maybe there’s a mole in the Golden Crow.”

He didn’t even bother to hide his suspicion. In the past, he would have told her to leave such dangerous business to the Golden Crow’s elite agents; but they no longer had that luxury.

“Why the hell would those zealots pay attention to one Revis who doesn’t even know magic, and one Mythos who’s been practically reviewing elementary spells after a five-year gap?”

Rose couldn’t answer.

Because I was meant to be a sacrifice to summon a demon.

She couldn’t say it. It still sounded too insane even in her head.

Yes, James had said he was willing to believe in demons—but believing she’d traveled back in time? Even she struggled to accept it fully.

She didn’t want to lie and say she didn’t know, but she also couldn’t explain.

So she quickly changed the subject.

She held out the serpent-ring in her palm, showing it to James.

“More importantly, this is the ring Grace deliberately left behind. She probably stored the memories she wants me to see in here.”

James watched her carefully.

“James. Can I ask you a favor?”

He straightened a little, his expression hard to read.

“If it’s something I can do, anything.”

She hesitated, then spoke softly.

“Normally, reading memories from objects is something I can do alone. But… could you stay with me while I do it?”

James felt a twinge in his chest. He was glad she trusted him enough to ask—but he also knew why she wanted company. She expected it to be painful, even terrifying.

“Do you have to watch these memories?”

He searched her face, seeing how pale she still looked.

It’s Betty’s final moments in there. Does she really have to see that again?

But Rose’s voice was steady.

“Grace left it behind because there’s a message she wants us to see. As awful as it is, if we don’t look, we’ll never know what they want from us.”

James pressed his lips together.

“It doesn’t have to be right now. It doesn’t even have to be you.”

“No. It’s definitely meant for both of us. And putting off something unpleasant only makes it worse in the end. Like when I used to skip my magic lessons.”

She gave him a forced little shrug as if to lighten the mood.

James sighed and finally reached out, enveloping her smaller hand in his own.

His magic flowed into her—warm, steady, grounding, more gentle than usual.

“If it becomes too much, let go immediately.”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

She managed a small smile before closing her eyes in concentration.

And what she saw was nothing short of hell.

“…Rose! Rose! Wake up!”

James’s voice came to her faintly as she blinked her eyes open, only to immediately gag again.

“Uugh… uweh—”

Nothing but sour bile came up now.

“Rose…!”

James was visibly shaken, something utterly unlike him. He yanked the bell cord hard to summon help.

“Get the doctor! Now!”

“No—I’m totally f-fine— uugh!”

“Fine? How the hell is this fine? Look at you, you’re in no condition to argue!”

“W… water… something cold…”

“Cold water! Hurry!”

When the butler rushed in, he stopped dead at the sight of Rose collapsed on the floor clutching a wastebasket, retching helplessly, and James utterly losing his usual composure.

The old man was genuinely shocked; he hadn’t seen James this shaken since that incident when James had still been a boy.

He hurried back in moments later with a glass of cold water.

“Here, sir. Cold water.”

James quickly brought it to Rose’s lips himself.

“Thank you… ugh…”

She drank carefully, tears welling in her eyes from the relentless nausea. Her lips were cracked and white.

James watched her with anxious eyes as she forced down the water.

When she finally finished, she slumped limply into his arms, breathing in ragged gasps, too drained even to speak.

James held her tightly, heart pounding, determined not to let her fall.