109.

When she briefly fainted and then opened her eyes, Cardier attentively took care of her every need. He waited on her hand and foot without letting her get out of bed, bringing every kind of food available on the ship. He seemed genuinely determined to feed her well. Except when she went to the restroom, he never left the room, and within just three days, soft fat had started forming around his waist.

“Eat more.”

When she set down her rye bread topped with avocado, poached egg, and bacon, Cardier said with a regretful expression. Ro shook her head.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Could you have overstrained your body recently?”

He brought a ripe grape to her lips, worried. Overstrained? All she’d done was lie around eating and lounging. Indifferently, Ro opened her mouth and accepted the grape. The juicy flesh burst inside her mouth, releasing a rich, sweet aroma. He carefully wiped the juice trickling from her lips with his sleeve.

“Once we disembark, I’ll arrange for better meals.”

“Where are we now?”

“We’ll arrive at the outpost in thirty minutes. I’ll help you change clothes.”

“…What?”

Even if she’d been dazed these past few days, this couldn’t be right. Ro slipped out from under the thin blanket and opened the small window attached to the cabin. As if to confirm Cardier’s words, a loud bell rang from the watchtower—signaling land had been sighted.

* * *

As soon as they disembarked, they were immediately guided toward the island’s center. “They” meant only Ro and Cardier; the crew remained docked at the port, restricted from freely moving about the camp under the justification that civilians couldn’t wander military grounds. Still, their treatment was courteous, and Ro quickly dismissed any lingering unease.

Entering deeper, she could clearly see beneath a low hill: soldiers’ tents, officers’ quarters, and the central command tent—all laid out in plain view. Though she couldn’t precisely identify each, she could guess by the size of the tents. Navy flags, bright blue, fluttered everywhere across the camp, giving the sensation of gazing upon a rippling sea.

“This is it.”

The soldier who had guided them stopped before a clean tent. It looked unused and immaculate, and the interior was surprisingly well-appointed for a military camp. Of course, Ro had never seen a military tent before—but judging by the bed, table, a makeshift partition in one corner, and even a wooden bathtub, this was clearly a tent meant for someone of at least commander rank.

“We’ll bring blankets and food shortly. Lieutenant Montrosa, you should head straight to headquarters.”

“Make sure my wife receives everything she needs without exception.”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

After Cardier gave the brief order, the soldier snapped a sharp salute. Cardier brushed her forehead and lightly kissed her lips.

“I’ll be back.”

The man who acted like an unyielding blade toward others poured nothing but tenderness on her, and each time, her heart fluttered. She touched her forehead with her fingertips and replied.

“Okay.”

Once Cardier left the tent, Ro immediately felt idle. The time that had felt so busy while she scrambled to save him now seemed endless, like grains of sand. Ro raised her arm and sniffed. It hadn’t bothered her much at sea, but now on land, her skin felt oddly sticky, and she thought she could smell salt on her body. Just then, someone stirred outside the tent.

“My lady, this is from your husband.”

A maid stood there, carrying clean new clothes, underwear, and a pristine white towel. Ro was slightly surprised to find women in the camp, and then, when soldiers began filling the tub with hot water, she couldn’t help but gasp in delight. Until now, she’d only washed with rainwater-dampened cloths; soaking her body in hot water was a luxury she desperately craved.

Ro removed her clothes, soaked in the scent of the sea, and indulged in a long, hot bath. She scrubbed every part—fingernails, toenails, elbows, behind her ears—then changed into fresh clothes. With her tension melting away, sleep began to wash over her. Just as hunger started creeping in, a maid arrived with a basket of food: freshly baked meat pie, honey, milk, and fresh fruit. Ro ate until full and lay down on the bed, feeling soft and refreshed.

Cardier didn’t return for a long time. At first, she thought nothing of it, but as the sun set and torches lit up across the camp, worry set in. Was something going wrong? Was the meeting taking longer than expected? She wanted to go look for him, but she was merely a noble civilian. Moving freely within the camp might draw unnecessary suspicion.

Wrapped in a blanket, Ro sat in a chair, dozing off, until she woke at the sensation of being lifted. It was Cardier. He slid his arms under her back and thighs, gently laying her on the bed. Ro rubbed her eyes and yawned widely.

“Why are you so late?”

“The meeting took longer than expected. It just ended.”

“Did you eat?”

“I had something simple.”

Cardier carefully adjusted the lantern’s brightness and perched on the chair beside the bed. He pressed his thumb and forefinger tightly between his eyes—a long-standing habit whenever he was tired.

“We won’t know for sure until tomorrow’s meeting, but full-scale war will likely begin within days.”

“Already?”

“This side has the Imperial Princess joining. The other side responded by sending a duke to match ranks. He arrived yesterday. With both commanders present, there’s no reason to delay further.”

Ro nodded, as if she understood. Compared to pirates who stalked their target ships, smashed sails, ambushed from nearby islands, or bombarded hulls until they cracked, naval warfare was dreadfully dull. Both sides simply anchored their fleets, exchanged cannon fire, and only pursued when one retreated. Whether on land or sea, noble wars followed this pattern. They were incomprehensible people, really. Ro shook her head slowly.

Cardier fell silent for a moment, then added:

“A ship bound for Sykrid will depart within three days. You’ll take it back with the others.”

Ro blinked.

“Go back?”

“This is a military camp.”

“You expect me to return to Sykrid and live comfortably while you’re out here risking injury again? Do you really think that’s possible?”

“Now that we know exactly who the enemy is, I won’t be caught off guard twice.”

“But—”

“Rosetta. Your safety is not negotiable.”

She understood the sentiment behind his words, but that didn’t erase the sudden sting. If she were still the Crimson Dawn, Cardier would never have dared interfere with her movements. Even if thrown into the heart of a battlefield, the Crimson Dawn would have survived just fine.

It was only because she was in Lea’s fragile body—this weak form that couldn’t even care for itself—that the situation had changed. She understood it, truly, in her mind. She knew his words held no malice. Yet even malice-free barbs could pierce the most tender, emotional parts. She kicked off the bedsheet and stood.

“Go to sleep first.”

When she stubbornly pulled her hood over her head, Cardier panicked and grabbed her shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“It’s dangerous. I’ll come with you.”

“You say the camp is dangerous? How absurd.”

“Technically, you’re a civilian.”

“Thanks ever so much for the reminder. Whatever I am, right now I don’t want to see your smug face.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Sit down. Don’t you dare move.”

Cardier clenched his teeth.

“Don’t do this, Ro. I don’t want to fight with you like this.”

Oh really? I’m more than ready. Seeing her deeply sullen expression, Cardier took a step back. Thinking back, he had never won a single argument with her—from the distant past to now. Not once. And likely, he would remain the eternal loser forever. He had not a speck of regret about that. In fact, he found it rather delightful.

But when it came to Rosetta’s safety, even the smallest compromise filled him with dread. Unconsciously, he tightened the hand that had instinctively reached out to pull her close.

“At least take Hugo with you.”

“Never mind.”

Like a dog obediently following its master, Cardier trailed behind Ro as she stepped out of the tent. She remained stubborn, and even now, maddeningly adorable. The thought that she didn’t even want to look at him was utterly miserable.

“Just go to sleep first. Don’t wait for me.”

Don’t wait? That only brought a hollow laugh. As Cardier watched her, Ro skillfully slipped between the dark tents. In the fleeting moment when the back of her hood disappeared, a suffocating wave of terrifying anxiety surged within him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, forcing himself to endure. This moment, like so many others, would pass as usual—while his Ro remained blissfully unaware.

If she ever realized he was this much of a wreck, she’d pity him, feel a little sympathy. She might keep him close for a while, using his emotions as leverage. But Ro wasn’t someone who should live like that—and if she did, she would wither and die. Therefore, this burden of emotion was his alone to carry.

Cardier expertly suppressed his feelings. Once more, he donned the cold mask. As his knuckles cracked sharply, Hugo, who had been on guard nearby, swiftly darted out.

“Guard her.”