69.

“What?”

Ro blinked dazedly at the voice that had abruptly reached her ears. It was Cardier. His hair was still damp, as if he’d only just washed, and through the loosely unbuttoned shirt, his skin glistened with moisture, taut and firm. Even this early in the morning, he looked as fresh as if he lived in a world all his own.

Ro reflexively glanced down at herself. She hadn’t looked in a mirror, but the pitiful state she must be in immediately painted itself in her mind—wild, lion-maned hair; a slip twisted up over her stomach; drool and sleep dust clinging to the corners of her mouth and eyes… None of it was a sight meant for anyone’s eyes.

But was there any point in playing coy now? Cardier had already seen Rosetta when she’d washed with nothing but saltwater nearby.

She’d done it deliberately to look repulsive, yet he’d gazed at her as if she were utterly desirable, his eyes dripping honey. Looking back, even then, Cardier had acted as if her appearance didn’t matter at all—whether she was dirty or clean, disabled or whole. Though the latter, admittedly, stemmed from guilt…

“Did you sleep well?”

While she was lost in thought, Cardier approached the bed. He gently combed his fingers through Ro’s tousled hair, smoothing it back, then pressed his lips to her exposed forehead—completely unfazed by her haggard, messy appearance. A faint, light smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

“You were sleeping so deeply you wouldn’t even know if I carried you.”

“What?”

“When I carried you to bed, you didn’t wake up once.”

At that, fragmented memories of the night before clicked into place—memories of clinging senselessly to someone’s arms while half-drunk with sleep. Ro turned her head with a stiff, creaking motion, like an ungreased gear.

“Wait… Was it you who bathed me last night?”

“You’d catch a cold sleeping in sweat and damp clothes.”

…Was he seriously offering that as an excuse? Judging the look on Ro’s face, Cardier rubbed her nose gently, as if she were unbearably adorable.

“I also needed to relax your muscles with warm water. Otherwise, you’d be in even more pain today.”

“Well, yes, but…”

Ro mumbled in response. Come to think of it, undressing an unconscious person would’ve been difficult even for the maids alone. And her muscles still ached as if they were tearing apart. If last night’s bath in warm water hadn’t eased them somewhat, she didn’t even want to imagine what agony she’d be enduring now.

“I’ll ask permission next time before touching you.”

Seeing that she couldn’t quite respond, Cardier let his eyes droop slightly, looking crestfallen. She hadn’t been angry from the start, but the way he acted now made her feel overwhelming guilt. If anything, the fault lay with her for falling asleep without properly washing. Ro stammered out an explanation.

“It’s not that I mind you touching me—it’s just that I feel… messy like this.”

“There isn’t a single spot on you that’s messy.”

“…”

“Every finger, every fine hair—I think they’re all beautiful.”

He intertwined his thick knuckles with her slender fingers, then pressed a kiss to each fingertip. This early in the morning… What nonsense. Ro raised her free hand to push his lips away, but he caught her other hand too, leaving her completely trapped. Ro sighed helplessly.

“You say such things so easily.”

“If it upset you, I’ll apologize. If you were truly uncomfortable, I wouldn’t touch you again—not even with a fingertip—even if you passed out like that again.”

“…”

“I love you, Ro. I won’t do anything you dislike.”

Was this really something that needed to go to such extremes…? Ro found it impossible to be harsh toward someone who so willingly handed over all her vulnerabilities to be used. It made her heart feel warm, like watching a puppy rolling on its back. They’d long since passed the point where seeing each other’s bodies could make things awkward. And besides, Cardier didn’t have any perverse tastes—he wasn’t doing this on purpose or anything.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. Honestly, it was my fault for not washing when I should have. There’s no need to take it so extremely.”

“Then… can I touch you without asking?”

Ro barely stopped herself from nodding, as if hypnotized. That was how easily she slipped into such a state if she let her guard down even slightly. The unspoken conditions—“if you pass out” or “if you fall asleep unwashed like last night”—were implied, but otherwise, it sounded as if it carried sexual undertones. Though Cardier himself probably hadn’t thought of it that way at all.

Honestly, there was no limit to the impure thoughts one could have about such an innocent young man. Ro shook her head firmly.

“No.”

The moment she refused, seeing his face fall once more, she felt utterly disgusted with her own twisted mind for interpreting his words that way. Ro desperately changed the subject.

“Anyway, what’s the occasion? You’re usually off every morning for training.”

“I filed for leave today. I’m only attending the afternoon session.”

“Anything going on?”

“We haven’t had a proper conversation in days. I wanted to see your sleeping face… I missed hearing your voice.”

“You miss such trivial things.”

“I think I’ll be really busy soon if not today. Are you hungry?”

No sooner had her stomach growled than Cardier asked. He lifted the small table near the window and placed it right beside the bed. Only then did Ro notice the large tray resting on it.

The Montrosa annex was merely a side building attached to the main palace, but due to its size, meals were usually delivered on large serving carts. They were so big and heavy that even when pushed carefully, the sound of the wheels rolling could faintly be heard down the corridor on the same floor. Today, she hadn’t even heard that faint noise—meaning Cardier must have carried the tray himself. And he’d done so long before she’d woken up.

Lifting the silver cover revealed a simple breakfast spread—bread, a fresh salad made from vegetables picked that morning, ham and cheese, several kinds of butter, and a soup cooled to a comfortable temperature. The sight made her hunger surge. As she reached to grab a piece of bread, Cardier gently stopped her. Instead, he broke off a bite-sized piece, thinly spread butter on it, and topped it with a slice of ham. The moment he brought it to her lips, Ro quickly opened her mouth and took it in.

“Is it good?”

She didn’t even spare time to speak, merely chewing and gesturing with her chin for the next piece. Her muscles trembled visibly even when holding a jam knife, so she had no reason to refuse his kind assistance.

Cardier softly laughed and kept bringing food to her mouth without pause. Ro stuffed her cheeks full until they bulged. Watching her with evident satisfaction, Cardier casually spoke up.

“Father has expressed his intention to retire.”

“What?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll have time to hear your voice from now on.”

Ro hurriedly chewed and swallowed the food still in her mouth.

“The Admiral told you already?”

Unlike Ro, whose eyes widened like lanterns, Cardier remained calm. This topic had first been mentioned quite some time ago. The current Admiral Montrosa had ascended to his position in his early twenties, so even after thirty years of service, he was still relatively young and in his prime. However, after years of grueling duties, he had recently begun frequently complaining of extreme fatigue.

Additionally, upon noticing his son’s growing aversion to any contact with women, the Admiral had publicly declared, “Once you marry, I’ll hand over the Eastern Command to you.” At the time, it had been closer to a forceful suggestion—almost an order—and knowing his son’s particular temperament, he hadn’t expected it to happen anytime soon. But Cardier had actually married, and the Admiral was a man who never took back his word.

All these factors led to the early retirement being discussed. In fact, it only awaited formal approval from the Emperor and the Privy Council, making it nearly certain. Only now did Ro notice that Cardier’s handsome face was slightly shadowed with fatigue.

“It looks like I’ll be taking over within the next two years.”

Ro let him pull her into an embrace without resistance. She had no idea what to say. Should she congratulate him? Express sorrow that he’d have to shoulder such responsibility so soon? Ask what would happen to their life together? Or… wonder if it would be a big problem for him if she were no longer his wife?

“I’ll take over as quickly as possible and stabilize everything.”

“…”

“So you can properly settle down here.”

He murmured against the nape of her neck. Meanwhile, she—the one who was supposed to be settling down—was secretly accelerating her preparations to leave. Ro didn’t know whether to wrap her arms around his back or completely turn away. She just froze, torn.

Between abandoning her lifelong desire for vengeance and living as a noblewoman, as Cardier wished—and between planting the seeds of revenge herself and biting down on their bitter fruit.

Her emotions swung like a storm-tossed sea between these two choices. Yet through all the turmoil, one conclusion remained constant. Rosetta had never, not even once, chosen to give up her revenge—even though she knew it was the very thing Cardier wished for most.

Kyrgos once said that love meant knowing when to give up something for the other person. If that were true, then clearly, she did not love him very much at all.