“If you’re that worried, then just bring it over and apply it yourself.”

It was just a sarcastic remark. But at those words, the woman brought over the ointment jar and sat beside him.

Then, gently rolling up his long sleeves that hung like curtains, she applied the ointment to the exposed wounds.

The moment her small fingers scattered and spread the pale powder, the sensation turned fierce.

This wasn’t treatment, it was torture.

Far from lowering his fever, it seemed to soar even higher, making his head feel hazy.

Rude, gnashing his teeth savagely, shook off Merche’s hand and pulled his arm back.

“Enough. Should a noble young lady have to suffer serving a lowly bastard like me?”

“…You are not lowly.”

“What?”

“You are not lowly, Rude. Nor am I noble.”

About to rebuke her for speaking nonsense, he let out a chilling laugh as a thought crossed his mind.

“Right. Anyway, I’m still nobility. Even if I lived my whole life as a slave, noble blood makes you noble.”

“Whether nobility or slave, no one can be judged as lowly or noble. If one’s nature or conduct is twisted, then they may be called lowly, but a person cannot be called lowly simply for being a slave.”

“…Cut the bullshit. Speaking frankly, don’t you think I’m vulgar too? As you said, my nature and conduct are utterly twisted. So by your standards, I’m a lowly bastard.”

“Anyone who is not taught cannot discern right from wrong. And I…”

Their gazes met precisely.

Sensing she was about to say something ominous and shocking like before, he tried to stop her, but Merche was faster.

“I have never thought you lowly. Not for a single moment. I have never had such thoughts.”

Even on this night devoured by darkness, her blue eyes shone as if filled with light.

That blue waterfall cascaded over Rude.

It felt as if his entire body was submerged in water. As if even his toes had lifted off the ground and started floating. That’s exactly how it felt.

Lies. He couldn’t even refute it that way. With those eyes, how could he?

Her eyes were as infinitely clear as her brazen actions.

Without even asking, all truths could be read in her gaze. It was all genuine.

It was evident that she truly had never thought him lowly.

Absurdly, his spirits lifted and even the corners of his mouth threatened to curve up. But then, the events of the morning flashed through his mind.

The laurel wreath. The ugly symbol of proposal that he had woven with his own hands.

“Stop wasting words. So, what’s your answer?”

Her blue eyes widened as if asking what he meant.

“Answer? To what are you referring?”

“What else? The earlier proposal. You spin that clever head well on other things, so why play dumb only at times like this?”

This time, her pale face stiffened like a taut line. Merche stepped back as if drawing a line, distancing herself.

“…If the laurel wreath was meant as a proposal, I will consider it as not having been received.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Why treat something you received as if you didn’t? Is there such a thing?”

“I have no feelings for you, Rude. Moreover, the family law strictly prohibits incestuous marriage.”

“You’re spouting the same nonsense as that servant bastard. Once I become the family head, I can just rip apart and rewrite that damned family law. Then there’s no problem.”

“As I said, I have no feelings for you, Rude. Therefore, I cannot accept the proposal.”

“I know. But so what? I don’t care.”

At this response that was once again incomprehensible, Merche parted her lips to ask, but Rude laughed coldly and spoke first.

“I don’t care if you have feelings for me or not. I know you don’t like me anyway.”

“…What do you…”

“What matters is this. I want to have you.”

The other person’s will, thoughts, beliefs. He had never lived respecting such ridiculous things.

To live, I kill others. If hungry, I steal from others to satisfy my hunger. That’s all.

In all the paths he had walked, there was not a single time he deviated from that method.

So he intended to do the same this time.

He wanted that woman, so he would have her. If she tried to run away, he would grab her ankle and bury her in chains to keep her by his side.

What’s wrong with that?

It was Merche who pulled him out of his cell and pitied him even when he never wished for it. It was all something Merche brought upon herself.

“And Merche. Stop lying and be honest.”

He grinned ever so maliciously.

Merche, thrown before his gaze, unwittingly held her breath.

“Do you really have no feelings for me at all?”

“…I do not.”

“I told you not to lie.”

“Do you think you can know my feelings better than I do? I truly do not have such feelings.”

With those words, Merche tried to turn away.

But Rude, who had kicked off the bed and stood up, grabbed her and held her in place.

Her brows furrowed at the grip strong enough to make her feel a slight sting.

“There are eyes I’m sick of seeing in my life, so there’s no way I wouldn’t know. Do you know what they are, Merche?”

“Let me go.”

“Desire. You desire me too, don’t you?”

Merche unwittingly took a step back. She didn’t want to hear it.

She wanted to cover her ears and run away from here, but her captured hand was trapped in another large hand and couldn’t easily break free.

Rude leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear.

His voice, now a whisper, was sweet and thick like molten sugar.

“Every time I cling to you, those eyes tremble so pitifully. Even if I try to pretend not to notice, how could I?”

Human desires are diverse. Among them, the lowest and dirtiest. The desire with deeper colors that Rude had faced ad nauseam. The desire for the slave he picked to win, to rake in a fortune.

The desire to lay a woman or man beneath him. The desire for anyone to die miserably before his eyes. There were so many. Memories of swinging his sword under the deluge of desires were as dank as the damp dungeon.

Among those desires, there was one particularly stupid one that stuck in Rude’s memory.

−Please. Madam. Allow me to kneel at your feet.

A noblewoman who would choose a slave, invest a fortune, and care for him for years. And the foolish slave who was infatuated with that woman.

When the slave’s face was scarred, leaving a permanent blemish, the noblewoman severed ties without a moment’s hesitation.

The slave, who had an absurd unrequited love, took his own life not long after by bashing his head against the wall.

Rude, who had watched their plight as a form of entertainment in his tedious slave life, clearly remembered the wretched eyes of the slave.

Yearning and craving even a single piece, a single grain of affection as if it were his last lifeline. Eyes that had become muddled and faded after being abandoned by the noblewoman. The tattered desire of the slave.

“Merche.”

“Please. Just let me go, Rude.”

“Do you want to be loved?”

Merche’s gaze flailed about in the air like a struggling child.

Her eyes, blinking stiffly as if they were about to shatter, were pitiful.

Rude grinned sharply, ignoring her pleas.

Why? Was it because he saw in Merche the same desire he had witnessed in that foolish slave?

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, it was impossible for Merche who was not cunning. Now that he had seen it, Rude had no intention of letting her go.

“I’ll give it to you. The love you desire, I’ll give it to you so much that you’ll be sick of it. You desire my love, and I desire you. We can fulfill each other’s desires. Isn’t that right?”

Rude kissed Merche’s pale white cheek.

Finally releasing her trembling body, he escorted her to the door.

As her golden hair fled as if running away, he left his final greeting.

“Don’t struggle in vain and just accept it. Think again about my laurel wreath and proposal. I hope for a positive answer, Merche.”

Otherwise, she would have to go through quite an arduous path.

No matter what, Merche’s place had to be by his side.

If Merche didn’t want that, well, there was no choice. He would have to destroy all other paths, leaving only the one leading to him.

Rude was already prepared to commit terrible sins.

“Every time I come here, it’s gloomy. Living in a place like this, you’d be lucky not to develop a neurosis.”

Louis Fondo, the third son and a candidate for the successor of the Fondo family, laughed with a snicker.

His attendant chimed in, agreeing it was truly so.

“I came all this way just to see the face of the miraculously returned eldest son. What a waste of time. Of all times, he falls ill with a fever on the day I arrive… Should I consider this a coincidence or not?”

Bedridden with a fever, unable to even greet him. This defeats the purpose of coming all the way here.

He had been curious to see how the wolf who had wandered outside for so long had turned out, but his enthusiasm cooled.

Fun or not, it seemed he would have to attend a few banquets held in this gloomy castle and then set off on the boring journey back home.

Pouting his lips and arching his back, Louis was addressed by his attendant.

“I heard there’s a branch family woman of this household who fell into the depths of misery overnight. How about meeting her instead?”

“A branch family member? What’s the point of meeting someone like that? The real son has returned, so she’ll be kicked out soon anyway. Building a useless connection is a waste of time.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun? If you provoke her a little, Louis, she might cry and tremble. Wouldn’t that be worth the time, even if it’s a waste?”

“…Puhaha. You’re right. Come to think of it, it does pique my interest. As you said, it could be entertaining.”

The attendant smiled, eyes crinkling like a butterfly.

Patting his shoulder as if in praise, Louis turned on his heel with newfound excitement.

One afternoon when she finally had no classes and tried to rest, Merche was abruptly summoned to sit before a guest.

Her mind was already in turmoil from Rude’s words the previous night, and now this sudden meeting added to her throbbing headache.

The guest, oblivious to Merche’s complicated state of mind, was strangely silent.

Louis, with the Fondo family’s signature refreshing, light sky-blue hair cascading down, gaped at her with his mouth open.

“If you have something to say, I will gladly listen.”

“…Ah. Something to say. Right. I’m sure I do.”

Lightly slapping his own cheeks, Louis mumbled before speaking.

“Do you have a fiancé?”

“No. Not yet.”

“A lover then? None of that either?”

“Yes. I have none of that either.”

“Then, what about me?”

It was such an absurd remark that she didn’t even know how to react.

Merche tried to respond with silence, but out of courtesy, she at least expressed her rejection.