Side Story Chapter 7.

While descending the steep cliff, the woman grumbled incessantly. Half of it was worry, and half was complaint about his frail body—so in the end, it was all worry.

“This staircase is extremely steep, so always check your footing before stepping.”

She kept scolding like someone lecturing a reckless child, yet he felt no irritation. Hope for escape seemed to beat a small drum inside his body. Cardier obediently nodded again.

His determination wasn’t lacking, but the stairs were terribly steep. Enduring that path with a body that hadn’t properly drunk a drop of water for several days was an excruciating ordeal. The path was narrow and treacherous—impossible for one to support the other while walking side by side. A misstep could easily trap a foot between rocks, and stepping in the wrong place sent pebbles tumbling down.

The sustained tension broke in an instant of carelessness.

“…Ah!”

The moment he realized he had slipped, the ground beneath him gave way. It felt as if all the blood in his body drained at once. He fell straight down the cliff. More precisely, into the churning sea below, violent enough to leave not even a bone fragment behind.

“You damn bastard…!”

He saw the woman’s face turn deathly pale with panic. That moment seemed to stretch on infinitely slowly. Only the deep blue sky and the woman’s face, clearly visible even in backlight. Her wide, bright blue eyes held his gaze.

‘I told you to watch your step.’

Now he truly had no excuse but to look like a complete fool. At a moment when he might die, that was all that occupied his mind. Like a genuine idiot with his senses completely gone…

“Haa.”

Just before being swallowed by the waves, Cardier took a deep breath. The next instant, icy cold water struck him violently. His entire body was tossed about chaotically. He blinked—closed and opened his eyes—only to find himself already underwater.

Kururururu.

The roar of the fierce current reached his ears. It sounded like the cry of a wounded beast, or like wind howling through a deep ravine. He had to move. Land was nearby—if only he could keep his senses, he might survive. But strength wouldn’t return to his limbs. He forgot even his long years of training and flailed helplessly. Once composure broke, the already insufficient breath rapidly escaped. Bubbling, gurgling. Air bubbles burst through the gaps in his teeth. Breath was running out. It was painful. Was he going to die like this?

Pong.

At that moment, he heard a sound like a splash from far away. He forced his stinging, dry eyes to blink. Something caught his blurred vision.

At first, he thought it was a red cloud.

But it was hair. Sunlight shone upon the red strands spread like waves. Beneath the shattered foam, it looked like the dawn itself. A breathtakingly dazzling sight, almost enough to bring tears.

‘Ah.’

The next moment, his wrist was seized. He was pulled upward, as if drawn from the deepest abyss. The woman wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his. His chin was gripped. As their eyes met, their lips immediately pressed together. Startled, Cardier reflexively tried to push her away, but she held firm. Her tongue slipped through the gap in his teeth, sliding between their tightly sealed lips.

‘Hut.’

Breath. Breath flowed through his lips. Fresh, crisp breath, as clean as air just gathered from a forest. He had no time to question it. He drank deeply from what she offered. No—rather, he greedily plundered every last bit. Just a little more, just a little more. Warmth surged through his body, as if he had just swallowed hot soup. It was almost magical.

After fully transferring her breath, the woman wrapped her arms around him from behind and powerfully surged toward the surface. Not a single moment was wasted, not a single hesitation. She skillfully read the current and found rocks where they could climb. She ascended first, then pulled him up as if tossing him ashore.

“Pheu, hheh, cough, cough…”

He trembled violently, spitting out seawater uncontrollably. Still, thanks to the breath she had shared, he didn’t gasp for long. Tilting his head to drain seawater from his ear, a strong hand suddenly grabbed him by the collar. Cardier was yanked upward in one swift motion. The woman nearly headbutted him, forehead slamming against his.

“You senseless brat!”

Her blazing blue eyes, furious and bright as the sun, filled his vision.

“Did you intend to die? If I hadn’t given you breath, you’d already be dead! Understand? If you want to die, go die somewhere I can’t see—why act up right before my eyes!”

Looking at the woman raging uncontrollably, he simply burst into laughter. A weak, crooked smile tugged at his lips, and the woman, mid-anger, flinched. Her expression turned strangely awkward, as if she had just faced something unsettling.

The woman hesitantly released his collar.

“…I never heard that Duke Montrosa’s young lord was insane.”

Then, twisting her face into the most unpleasant scowl possible, she took one step back. He couldn’t stop laughing. Even though he knew she was staring at him with a strange look.

Ah, it was surrender. He instantly grew fond of her. The faint salty scent mixed into her breath, her unrestrained mannerisms, her pure gaze devoid of any ulterior motive—he liked it all. It was fortunate that the person to whom he now owed his life twice happened to be this woman.

He decided to accept the situation a little differently. After all, this was a meeting like a summer night’s dream—one that would never happen again in his lifetime.

Cardier smirked faintly.

“Nuna.”

“…What?”

“You said earlier, ‘Since when do we speak informally?’”

“Are you crazy? Or did the shock of falling into the sea scramble your brain just now?”

“Neither.”

“Damn it. A gloomy fellow like you suddenly… What? Nuna? You’ll drown for real.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed in disgust. She looked at him as if he were a terrible insect, or something equally repulsive. Cardier burst into laughter.

“Well then, what should I do? I don’t even know your name.”

“…At least fix that honorific. No matter how bold I am, if I keep hearing noble titles, I won’t survive long enough to be expelled.”

“Nu…”

“One more time calling me ‘nuna’ in that disgusting way…”

“Then tell me your name.”

“….”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have no choice but to call you nuna.”

He saw her grinding her teeth. She seemed to struggle intensely for a brief moment, then finally spat out her name gruffly.

“Rosetta.”

Cardier carefully shaped the name on his tongue, as if hearing the truth for the first time in his life.

“Rosetta.”

The woman abruptly turned her back on him and walked toward the pier. She seemed oddly awkward, as if merely having her name called unsettled her. He smiled quietly.

If she knew, she would rage uncontrollably—but in truth, he had already guessed her name before hearing it. Rosetta. The famous Red Dawn. To see that appearance and fail to make the connection would be no different from a blind man with eyes wide open.

For crimson hair and blue eyes were precisely the colors of dawn.

* * *

‘Nuna indeed.’

Ro scratched her ear roughly. Unfortunately, there was no doubt—the heir of Montrosa had definitely lost his mind. Ro deeply agreed with the conclusion she had drawn and nodded. She shot a glance at the sudden fool, as if to say, “Why is this pretty-faced idiot acting like this?”

“….”

She stared silently at the boy, then narrowed her eyes. It was admittedly absurd that he had lost his mind, but… he really was handsome. Eyes as clear and blue as the sea on a sunny day, golden hair bright as sunlight, cheekbones and nose as perfectly sculpted as ivory. Was this what it meant to possess beauty beyond mere preference? Though, according to her taste, he was probably about five years too early to be fully ripe. Suddenly, a memory surfaced.

“Rosetta.”

A voice, surprisingly young yet soft and melting. Damn it. Why on earth did that slick-faced bastard’s voice keep echoing in her ears? She scratched her ear again. Right, why assign grand meaning to some weirdo’s words? After all, once this mission ended, she’d never have to meet this fellow again.

“What’s that?”

At Cardier’s voice, Ro snapped back to attention. Something small, like a dot, floated near the horizon. Bringing a telescope close to her eye, she saw three warships flying naval flags. Seabirds circled near the crow’s nests—these ships had only recently set sail.

“Naval vessels. We’ll reach Barna soon.”

“Already? Fast.”

Of course, it was due to Calypso’s magic, but Ro said nothing, pulling the rigging to increase speed. About thirty minutes later, the warships, once fingernail-sized, now grew as thick as an arm, and behind them, Barna—the southern region’s largest military port—came into view. Thanks to the lingering effects of Calypso’s wind, Ro brought the sailboat almost crashing straight into the pier.

“M-Madness…”

“Everyone’s staring.”

“Shut up.”

“Mm.”

Ro rubbed the sweat from her palms onto her pants. Even she, bold as she was, couldn’t remain calm drawing attention in a place teeming with naval officers. She could already picture a noose dangling at her neck. Just then, a neatly dressed naval officer approached. He looked less like a soldier and more like an administrator.

“…Are you docking?”

His face was full of suspicion, as if he suspected she had deliberately crashed the boat into the pier to damage it. Ro stammered in reply.

“D-Docking, yes, docking.”

From behind, the boy’s low laughter reached her ears. …Damn it, I’m going to die of embarrassment.

“Well then, fine. May I see your identification documents?”

“….”

“You don’t have them?”