Chapter 64

Chapter 64

“Now that I think about it, Rose. I’m aware you have the same mark on your body as I do.”

Why bring that up out of nowhere?

Rose turned her head sharply, instinctively taking a cautious step back.

“Isn’t it unfair?” James continued smoothly. “I’ve never actually seen the mark on your chest.”

Clunk!

The carriage lurched hard over a loose section of track. Off balance, Rose tumbled back onto the bed with a soft thump.

James didn’t bother hiding the knowing glint in his eyes as he watched her sputter in flustered silence.

“Go wash up.”

“What?”

“Change your clothes. Fix your hair as much as you want.”

He starts off talking about the mark and then just—what is he scheming?

“I’ll be enjoying the luxury of a rare, schedule-free morning.”

He stretched out languidly on the bed, closing his eyes with deliberate ease.

Only then did Rose gingerly push herself upright.

Wait. Is he… actually falling back asleep?

This side of James Dautryche felt completely different from the man she’d met at his mansion.

Not the calculating businessman, but more like that handsome, idle charmer Jack Dillon she’d glimpsed at the countess’s party.

Carefully, she gathered fresh clothes and tiptoed toward the bathroom.

Good thing there’s a big partition between the bedroom and the bath.

She resolved to raise a soundproofing barrier while she washed. The last thing she needed was him listening in and then teasing her about it for days.

Just as she stepped inside the bathroom—

“Ah. Don’t forget to show me the mark when you’re done.”

His voice came in that perfectly casual, maddeningly dry tone, as if reading the morning newspaper.

He wasn’t even asleep?!

“Because, as I said—it’s only fair.”

Rose slammed the door shut in defiance and instantly drew up a tight soundproof barrier with her magic.

Even the way he adds that last remark is infuriating.

Just wait. Someday I’ll undo this soulmate bond, get rid of all these tangled feelings for him, and pay him back—big time. No matter what it takes!

The moment Rose’s unique magic stirred and then all sound cut off, James knew she’d cast a spell.

Still lying on the bed, he reached toward the spot where she’d been just moments earlier.

She’d clung to the blanket so stubbornly in her sleep that it was now hopelessly crumpled and shoved into a corner.

He pulled the rumpled bedding close and held it lightly for a moment.

I’ve really become a pervert, haven’t I.

He hadn’t planned to share the bed with Rose at all.

There was no reason to test his self-control so recklessly; if he didn’t trust himself to hold back, he simply wouldn’t have created the situation in the first place.

One night in an armchair would have been no problem.

But the moment he’d lifted her sleeping form from the lounge chair, his own magic and hers had begun to churn violently.

It happened entirely against his will—a push and pull, drawing in and expelling, the two forces fighting for dominance.

His stored magic was siphoned away as if stolen in an instant, replaced by surging waves of power laced with her scent, boiling like raw, seething desire as it filled the empty spaces.

The exchange was so intense that even his best efforts couldn’t fully contain it.

And most unsettling of all was the raw, primal pleasure that accompanied the flux of magic—far beyond what he’d imagined.

Just laying her down gently on the bed had required an absurd amount of willpower.

He knew perfectly well in his head: Just close your eyes, let go, step back. But just a little longer… a moment more…—that inner temptation had been overwhelming.

He’d spent the whole night caught between restraint and surrender at her side.

Meanwhile, she’d slept on in perfect peace.

Watching that sleeping face had made him ache with fondness, frustration, and a kind of helpless resentment.

That was probably why, when she’d woken up groggy-eyed in the morning, he couldn’t help but needle her with teasing, almost petulant remarks.

James thought back on the night’s tangled surge of magic and slowly pushed himself up from the bed.

Blinding summer sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating vast green fields and mountain ranges racing past outside.

In just a couple more hours, they’d reach their final destination: the southern city of Egarde.

He’d have time enough to soothe her anger before then.

He might as well start by telling her what was on the breakfast menu in the dining car.

She did love eggs Benedict, after all.

Poooooo!

The train let out a long whistle and a cloud of pale steam as it pulled into Egarde Station.

Out front, a long line of rental carriages waited to take passengers onward.

They’d deliberately kept their destination—the Egarde villa—quiet, and James had only sent the telegram that morning at the last minute. So there was nothing for it but to hire a carriage.

They chose the largest and cleanest-looking one from the line, loading it with their precariously stacked luggage until it was full. Then the carriage quickly rattled out of the busy station area and onto a quiet country road.

“Wow… The mountains just go on forever.”

“That’s the famous Oos Mountains. There’s a saying in Egarde that no matter which way you look, you’ll see them. And that’s basically true.”

Because the range cut straight through the southern city, travel between North and South favored shipping routes over inefficient roads, and Egarde had no large port—so it had fallen behind in industrialization.

At least until the Dautryche Company developed the kingdom-spanning railway line.

“We only sent the telegram this morning, so the rooms might not be fully prepared.”

“That doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve slept on bare floors before.”

“Rose. I think you’re misunderstanding something. We’re going to a villa, not some remote mountain hut with nothing in it.”

They continued trading light conversation for some time.

After about an hour of being jolted over rough country roads—just long enough for the narrow, hard rental-carriage seats to leave them sore—the scenery began to change.

Well-kept shrubs started appearing, and at their end stood a small, dazzlingly white mansion.

Small mansion was ridiculous, of course; it was only small in comparison to the grand Dautryche estate. By any normal measure it was a large, two-story home—far bigger than Rose’s family house on Hillsey Island.

The entire facade was finished in white marble that gleamed in the summer sunlight. Behind it stretched the mountains, with brilliant blue skies overhead and a lush green garden sprawling below like a painting come to life.

Several staff members were already waiting outside the front entrance.

“All ready?”

“As you ordered, everything is prepared.”

A middle-aged man, clearly the villa’s steward, took James’s cane and hat with polite precision.

“Good. I’ll show her to her room myself. Rose, don’t just stand there like a borrowed cat. Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

Tride Mansion was the opposite of the Dautryche estate in every way.

Where the main house was masculine, grand, and solid, this villa—once owned by James’s mother—was feminine, refined, and gentle, from the furnishings to the paintings on the walls.

“It’s a small room, but it should be enough for all the absurd number of books and tools you brought.”

“James, how exactly are you defining small? This is perfectly spacious.”

“Smaller than your room at the estate.”

Rose decided she would never in her life understand the scale of big and small as used by the richest man in the kingdom.

She stepped inside.

Pale pastel wallpaper and carpets. Delicate, charming decorations. For a moment it was so lovely she nearly forgot they’d traveled all this way to escape the priests of Ouroboros.

“I hope it’s to your liking.”

“I love it,” she replied quickly, nodding.

“The orientation is good and the airflow is great. The floor space is more than enough to draw any magic circle I want—honestly, it’s better than the estate rooms, which were spacious but so crammed with furniture it was always a hassle.”

“Can you try evaluating it without thinking in magical terms?”

James rubbed a hand over his face and gave her a second chance. Rose blushed a little and answered.

“…It’s pretty.”

She wanted to add more, but no words seemed right.

“Pretty, huh… Good.”

Just then, the setting summer sun hit the window. James crossed the room in a few long strides and drew the curtains.

“Actually, this room used to be mine when I was a boy.”