"Your Grace...?"
"Don't move."
I pinned Rose in place with those two short words, then strode toward her. The thick carpet in the bedroom completely muffled my footsteps.
After just a few steps, I reached her.
"Pardon me."
I swept her up into my arms just like that.
"Eek!"
Rose let out a strangled gasp and went rigid. Her eyes darted frantically, fixing on my face. She couldn't bring herself to speak, but her gaze was screaming questions.
'Why? Why are you doing this?'
She looked utterly bewildered, so I figured she needed an answer.
"The floor."
"Ah."
Rose let out a quiet exclamation and craned her neck to peer downward. Shards of the shattered wine bottle and the sodden carpet awaited her below.
"I'm sorry... This is, well. It's my fault, so..."
She mumbled in a tiny, shrinking voice.
'Only apologize when you've truly done wrong.'
Perhaps because of what I'd told her, she tacked on that unnecessary bit.
"It's wine you value, isn't it...?"
"Not particularly."
If I cherished it, I wouldn't have left it sitting here. Who drinks something without knowing what's in it?
In any case, this wasn't the time for casual chit-chat. Her ears were turning redder by the second.
Still holding her, I started striding forward.
"Y-Your Grace."
It was only a short distance to the bed, but she squirmed as if even that was too much to bear.
"Please put me down. I must be heavy..."
"Not at all."
I answered curtly.
"My wife is quite petite. Lighter than my sword, even."
"Pardon? That's not true at all."
"Make sure you eat diligently."
I added, glancing at her gaunt cheeks.
"-Like earlier."
"-!"
Rose's cheeks flushed bright red. She must have recalled how enthusiastically she'd eaten at dinner.
Swoosh—
I set her down on the bed and tugged the cord by the table.
"Stay put."
Her entire face beet red, Rose simply watched what I was doing.
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door.
"Pardon the intrusion."
A maid entered.
"Wine got spilled. Clean it up."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The maid carried out the order without batting an eye. She calmly wiped the carpet and swept up the glass shards—as if Rose sitting on the bed and I standing beside her weren't even there.
'She's an experienced servant in the castle.'
The Schmaikel household staff must possess three key virtues.
Eyes, mouth, hands. Blind themselves to what they see, keep their mouths shut, and handle tasks swiftly.
Only those who follow this survive long in this castle. In fact, only they survive.
But.
The master, who had never once entered the marital bedroom, had now gone so far as to seat his wife on the bed.
How could she keep that to herself? It was information every servant attending Rose—and me—needed to know.
'Rumors will spread through the castle by tomorrow.'
That the two of them looked quite close, that Madam's face was flushed, that they even shared wine—
That sort of gossip.
'Perfect.'
I'd deliberately summoned the maid to spark it. If Rose hadn't broken the bottle, I'd have found another excuse.
"Is there anything else you require?"
The maid asked politely once the cleaning was done.
"Two wine glasses, and some appetizers to go with it."
"Yes, sir."
The maid withdrew quietly, as if nothing had happened. But as she closed the door on her way out, I caught her gaze lingering on the bed. That confirmed it.
'The rumors will be all over by tonight.'
The door shut soundlessly, just as she'd entered.
"Put these on."
I handed Rose a spare pair of slippers.
"There might still be glass shards."
"Thank you."
"We'll replace the carpet tomorrow."
Rose slipped on the slippers and rose awkwardly to her feet. Standing before me, her body went stiff as a board.
"Ah."
The room's only light sources were the candles on the table and the faint moonlight filtering through the large window.
And there we stood before the bed—a man and a woman. Dressed only in thin nightclothes, utterly improper for anyone else's eyes.
Just the two of us, who had become husband and wife today... and were expected to consummate it.
"..."
Rose's lips quivered faintly. She was finally realizing her situation.
Watching her fear, I thought to myself.
'This is amusing.'
The squirrel who'd been ready to claw at me moments ago was now trembling.
'Not that I plan to touch her anyway.'
I didn't shy away from the act expected of husband and wife. It simply wasn't the right time yet.
Swish.
I reached out, and Rose's eyes automatically followed my hand. She couldn't move a muscle as my large hand approached her.
My hand landed on her shoulder.
Swish.
I pulled up the slipped strap of her nightgown and spoke.
"My wife."
"...Yes."
"If you wanted wine, you should have said so. Fabri would have brought at least ten appetizers."
Rose blinked in a daze, then bristled indignantly.
"No, that's not it! Earlier wasn't—!"
"Or did you want the wine itself?"
"That's not it either!"
She poured out her grievances with fierce eyes. Oblivious to my consideration in trying to ease her tension.
Her slightly flushed cheeks from the excitement looked a bit cute—perhaps the moonlight's magic.
"The reason I looked at the wine wasn't—"
"Yes, what was the reason?"
"...Ugh."
Rose clamped her mouth shut.
Of course. How could she admit she was checking it for poison? Especially in front of its owner.
Still, I was pleased with her reaction.
Her inability to make excuses proved her intentions. She was acting to protect me.
'In the original story, she spread it all out on the floor to inspect it.'
Back then, Dane Schmaikel hadn't come to the marital bedroom. So Rose could leisurely check every bottle.
But now, my intrusion had prevented that.
"I, well. Earlier..."
As Rose fumbled for an excuse,
Knock knock.
The servant knocked, likely with what I'd ordered.
"One moment."
I left Rose and went to the door.
"Your Grace. The wine glasses and appetizers you requested—"
Thud.
I snatched the tray and slammed the door. I didn't want any interruptions to this precious time.
I turned, set the tray on the table,
"Come here."
and called to Rose, who stood rigid.
She glanced at me warily, then shuffled over—like a squirrel fearing it'd be devoured.
'Not an incorrect thought.'
I opened the wine cabinet door, thinking something that would horrify her if she knew.
"Wine? Care to drink?"
"Uh..."
I held up a bottle toward the hesitant Rose.
"This one's less valuable than the one you broke. Still, it has a rich flavor."
"Your Grace, please."
"Will you have some of this?"
Urged again, she looked at me with wavering eyes. I could see the fierce internal debate.
Should she tell the truth? Would he believe her? No, he wouldn't. Then what excuse?
That sort of turmoil.
The Dane Schmaikel she knew wasn't the type to believe her words. That's why she agonized so.
And I had to shatter that preconception. Banish the shadow of the old Dane Schmaikel like a lingering scar.
"Well, if you won't..."
I casually uncorked a bottle and poured a glass.
"I'll drink alone."
I raised the glass slowly to my lips. I savored the way her frantic gaze followed my hand.
Just before it touched my lips.
"No!"
Rose grabbed my arm in a panic. I could have dodged or struck back easily, but.
"...Now."
I deliberately waited patiently. Letting her come right up to my face.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Through the clear wine glass, her face reflected. Her ragged breaths brushed my cheek in that brief moment.
Our eyes met at such close range.
"No, Your Grace."
Her small but firm voice wrapped around my ear.
"Didn't my wife just refuse the glass?"
"That's not—"
She swallowed dryly. Yet she didn't release my arm.
I wondered what excuse her little head would come up with. I kept my face impassive, prodding her for an answer.
"...This,"
Finally, her lips moved.
"This isn't like you, Your Grace."
"Not like me?"
"Don't you usually never consume anything before bed?"
A valid point.
The reason for the double and triple layers of guards around my bedroom. The reason I never drink.
Because attacks come when forgotten.
"How would my wife know that?"
The problem was, it wasn't a fitting remark for someone who had just arrived at the castle today.
"...!"
Realizing her slip, Rose swallowed a gasp. Then came a forced calm voice.
"Some rumors reach even closed ears inevitably."
"About me?"
"So I have a rough idea of your situation, Your Grace."
Cornered, Rose opted for a direct charge.
"Yes, what rumors?"
I knew it would corner her further, but still.
"...I wouldn't dare be so rude as to say it to your face."
"I won't reprimand the rudeness. Speak."
Her lips tightened at my relentless questioning, but
"It's just my own guess."
She managed a composed expression.
"That you wouldn't carelessly consume outside food."
But at such close proximity, I could feel it. The faint cold sweat beading on her palm.