To You Whom I Don’t Love That Much (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 072

No matter how much Turner shouted, Rosetta had already calculated that this was the most efficient method.Rather than wearing it to Montrosa Castle and letting several hands touch it, it was better to take it off now to preserve it in slightly better condition.

The fact that Turner didn’t seem the least bit masculine also played a part in her decision, but she had already determined there was no issue to begin with.Unless he went mad, he wouldn’t dare lay eyes or hands on her recklessly.

From the moment she began untying the ribbon, seeing him crouched in a corner of the room as if hiding confirmed her prediction was spot-on.Turner’s petty survival instinct, always dodging like a ghost when his life seemed at stake, was almost admirable.

Once she made up her mind, her actions were swift and decisive.Rosetta used a sharp dagger to cut through every last knot tightening her waist.The moment she let go of the fabric at her chest, the dress fell to her feet, pooling like a large puddle.In an instant, Rosetta, now in her slip, nimbly stepped out of it.

“Really, no, oh, my goodness…”

From the rustling sounds alone, Turner realized what was happening and let out a dumbfounded sigh.Rosetta paid no mind, spreading out the dress and cutting away the most stained parts with her knife.She carefully trimmed any mistaken cuts, setting them aside, and tossed the largest piece onto Turner’s desk along with a handkerchief.

“Find out as much as you can about its composition.It took about an hour to get here by carriage, and I avoided any situations that could cause further contamination.It doesn’t seem like a drug used alone; it’s likely mixed with hot tea…”

“Alright, I get it, but…”

“What.”

“Please, just… put something on.”

Rosetta then realized Turner was still crouched in the same corner and burst into incredulous laughter.He reached for a basket overflowing with laundry, grabbed something randomly, and tossed it behind him.Rosetta picked up the garment that landed at her feet with her index finger and thumb—a men’s tunic of questionable cleanliness.

“What’s this trash?”

“Just wear it. Please.”

Rosetta examined the tunic skeptically, turning it over and sniffing it.The stench was so potent her nose wrinkled instinctively; it must have been left unwashed for ages after being sweated in.Clicking her tongue, Rosetta pulled the tunic over her head.It was long enough to cover her down to mid-thigh.

“I’m dressed.”

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