12. The second time will be more familiar
I thought I had to see Arwin. The thought that I must tell him Dalton is targeting him came first.
Of course, I couldn't be sure if what Dalton wanted was Arwin's heart or something worse. But I just wanted to put a protective barrier of caution around Arwin.
I wanted to plant alertness in that man who was indifferent to everything. Even if that dream was a far-fetched illusion created by my imagination.
When I raised my body completely from the bed, my brain throbbed heavily. I thought I would be okay after sleeping for a while.... I guess that wasn't it.
I tightly gripped the handkerchief presumed to be Arwin's in my hand.
I couldn't know with what thought Arwin placed the handkerchief on my forehead, but it gave me a justification to visit Arwin abruptly.
I headed to Arwin's office.
As I walked fast as if running, I felt like even my cerebrospinal fluid was shaking. My exhaled breath became hotter and hotter, and fierce heat capable of melting even an iceberg lingered on my forehead.
However, I couldn't stop walking like this.
While accepting my death more humbly than anyone, I was hoping nothing ominous would happen to Arwin. Sincerely. Desperately.
I knocked on the door of the office a couple of times and then threw the door open. Since Arwin was originally a person who didn't answer, I thought, what does it matter anyway?
Arwin existed in the office as expected. He was sitting in front of the desk as usual, almost buried in documents.
His reaction to the unfamiliar presence was incredibly slow. He lifted his head leisurely only after a few seconds had passed. I was the only one feeling impatient.
Arwin had a face completely unsurprised even by my sudden visit. His gaze touching me was only bored. It was a gaze that made even me feel lethargic if I kept looking at it.
I approached him and held out the handkerchief.
"Is this what the Marquis left behind?"
"...."
Arwin stared down at the handkerchief silently.
How should I describe his gaze? It looked close to a gaze gauging whether it was a real handkerchief or not.
"If so."
Eventually recognizing it as his handkerchief, Arwin answered belatedly. No emotion whatsoever was felt in his voice.
I briefly imagined him placing the handkerchief on my forehead and leaving. For what reason did he come to find me and place the handkerchief on my forehead?
"Were you worried?"
I thought there was absolutely no way he was, but I asked anyway. I was already a woman sick and tired of holding back the words I wanted to say.
"...."
Arwin wore a look of thinking about something for an instant, then raised his seated body and walked up to in front of me.
Arwin, significantly taller than me, looked down at me quietly. His white hand casting over my forehead happened in an instant.
"Your forehead that touched me in the morning was hot."
He spoke in a good voice that made the listener feel ecstatic.
Even while suffering from a high fever, his beautiful voice was reaching my ears clearly. It is unavoidable to be mesmerized by him naturally.
"That must have been my heat that transferred to you."
He withdrew his hand that he had placed on my forehead. Then he repeated clenching and unclenching his hand. As if gauging the degree of heat on my forehead.
"A ball of fire."
Arwin spoke as if he didn't like it.
It was a look of not understanding why I was still a ball of fire even though he had placed the handkerchief on my forehead. That looked closer to analysis than worry.
Right, there's no way Arwin worried about me.
Rather, if the word worry came out of his mouth, I might have died much earlier than the scheduled date due to too much shock. The cause of death would be a heart attack.
"I'm okay."
I wasn't okay, but I answered that I was okay. More than about the fever, I wanted to talk about Dalton quickly.
"By the way, Marquis. About Dalton."
"Why him?"
"Until when is he staying at the mansion?"
"That would be up to his mind."
Arwin retorted nonchalantly. He seemed to have not a shred of interest in Dalton.
"It would be an excessive overstepping of authority for me to ask you to send him out, right?"
"Well. But he is someone who has had ties with the Marquisate for a long time. He isn't a character who would leave easily just because I tell him to go."
Ties with the Marquisate for a long time.
I was curious about the long connection between Dalton and Arwin, but I didn't ask that far. If I asked that far, it might really become a true overstepping of authority this time.
"I wanted to convey that I wish you would be careful of Dalton."
"...."
Arwin looked straight at me.
He didn't ask the reason. He just faced me directly. His red lips, well-tanned by sunlight, remained firmly closed and didn't spit out any language.
It was also a reaction as expected. Since I didn't expect a scenario where Arwin would accept it at once just because I brought up the words to be careful.
A question arises whether the emotion of alertness exists in Arwin in the first place.
Does he truly guard against no one? Would he make a nonchalant face even if a person exuding killing intent approached close?
I let out a light sigh. Although it was regrettable, I considered this much sufficient.
Isn't the single fact that I brought up the words that I wish he would be careful a satisfying result? If it were the past, I wouldn't have even been able to bring it up to him. No, would we even have had a conversation?
"I'll get going now."
Having said what I wanted to say, I tried to leave his office.
The moment I bowed my head to greet him, my body staggered a little. At the same time, my cerebrospinal fluid sloshed again. I felt like my brain was melting in the heat circulating in my body.
Whether Arwin intended to hold my swaying body, he lightly grabbed my wrist. His touching hand was hot.
"...May I kiss you?"
It was an out-of-the-blue proposal. Watching me struggling in the heat, I thought perhaps his animalistic senses awakened unexpectedly. However, that seemed to be my misunderstanding.
"I'll take my heat back."
He seemed to say he purely wanted to kiss only. Not as skinship leading to a physical relationship, but as a kind of act to take away my heat.
"Then your forehead might become hot again."
"It's okay. The second time will be more familiar."
The words 'May I kiss you' were not words seeking permission. Before my answer even fell, Arwin grabbed the tip of my chin with the other hand not holding my wrist.
His lips soon settled on my lips.
In the kiss with him, which had become familiar as familiar could be, the warm emotion called love was not felt.
It was nothing more than a routine kiss created by a natural flow.
The heat that had circulated in my body all day disappeared completely.
I wondered if it seeped into the original owner, but fortunately, Arwin didn't suffer from a fever. He merely handled his work in silence just like any other time.
The sounds of carriage wheels and hoofbeats were heard through the open window. It was a noise that didn't suit this mansion where only silence lurked, resembling its master.
I briefly abandoned the work I was doing and approached near the window to examine the person visiting the Marquis's residence. A carriage with a flashy pattern was parked ostentatiously in front of the entrance.
As soon as I looked, just in time, the carriage door opened and someone started to get off. The identity of the someone was a woman.
Light shone from her shoes stepping on the ground, and a brighter light shone from her face. She was a beautiful young woman one would definitely want to look at again once seen.
She walked slowly to the entrance of the mansion, sweeping back her mysterious silver hair softly.
It seemed bright light lingered on the surrounding scenery whenever she passed. Despite having a small frame, a certain presence that couldn't be ignored was felt from her.
Who is she.
Even while preparing high-quality tea and walking to the drawing room, thoughts about that woman didn't cease.
For what purpose did that woman come here?
As I entered the drawing room with a light knock, Arwin and that woman came into view. That woman with beautiful silver hair.
The two were sitting facing each other. Like any maid, I walked in front of them, greeted them, and put down the teacups soundlessly.
I stole a glance at the woman sideways. The woman was much more beautiful than when seen from afar.
The black eyes clearly placed in her small white face and her distinct features looked exactly like a doll made of sugar. A beauty likely to break if touched.
She had never visited the Marquis's residence at least during the past two years I worked. If she had visited, I would have naturally remembered. Since it's a face likely not to be forgotten once seen.
What relationship do this woman and Arwin have?
As I lifted the teapot and poured tea, I was engulfed in an impulse to pour it over her head. The little devil that had been sleeping deep in my heart woke up and was whispering to me endlessly.
'Spill the tea on that woman.'
It was a little devil that had never come out of my heart even once in my life so far. I poured an appropriate amount of tea, struggling to ignore the sweet whispers of the little devil.
If my patience had been even a little lacking, I might have actually poured the tea on the woman. Alarm bells were ringing ceaselessly in my head.
Having finished my task, I left the room with a light greeting, no different from when I entered. Arwin's gaze never touched me throughout my leaving the room.
Looking obliquely at the closed door, I thought about what conversation they would have.
Regards? Appointment? Surely... marriage? Topics I don't want to guess anymore. Even in the meantime, the little devil was constantly whispering harmful sounds.
'Go back in and grab that woman by the hair.'
Although extremely tempting words, they were whispers not worth listening to. And I knew the identity of the little devil.
Its other name was jealousy.
What relationship am I to Arwin to be feeling such unsightly jealousy? Just because I had his nights a few times, did possessiveness arise that he became mine? Foolish.
I imagined the beautiful laughter of the woman with silver hair. The laughter in the imagination I created arbitrarily rang stickily in my ears.
Imagining even that laughter directing toward Arwin was a truly painful thing. But imagination didn't go as I pleased. Rather, it added details and tormented me again and again.
Although Arwin's heat lingering in my body had already disappeared, I felt like my stomach was becoming hot. Throughout walking down the hallway, I couldn't erase the feeling of wanting to vomit.
I stopped walking and walked to the window on one side of the hallway. I might feel better if I get some fresh air.
When I opened the closed window, the wind full of the smell of autumn brushed past my face. Even though I didn't think about death, as soon as that wind touched me, I felt like tears would come for some reason.
Why does love make people so childish and petty? I said I didn't want anything from Arwin, but was I implicitly wishing for something more than that?
As love increases, my heart will become pettier and pettier.
I disliked my appearance that would change like that. However, I had a premonition that I wouldn't be able to control such feelings as I pleased either.
Unless his scent permeating my skin disappears, I couldn't return to the original me who wished for nothing.
It was then that someone called my name.
"Iphoe?"
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