Chapter 20
“Is your mouth going to get stiff like a mouse if you keep it shut?”
I snapped back in anger, taking off the coat he gave me and wringing out my soaking wet clothes.
Even though I had been wearing a thick coat, the rain and wind had managed to soak everything underneath.
As a bonus, the northern cold was slowly freezing the wet parts of my clothes.
While I stood there, shivering with trembling lips and bright red hands, wringing water from my clothes, Amin spoke to the innkeeper standing by the door.
“Bring a bucket full of hot water. Enough to fill the bathtub.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The innkeeper, delighted with the gold coin Amin handed over, quickly went downstairs.
I kept wringing my clothes the whole time.
“Just take them off.”
“…What?”
Did I hear that right?
I looked up at Amin with a stunned expression. He had just hung his jacket on the wall hook and was now looking at me.
He pulled a flask from the inside pocket of his jacket and took a sip, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
From the smell, it was clearly alcohol again.
“I also asked the innkeeper to bring you some clothes. Just take those off.”
He placed one of the towels the innkeeper had left on my head as he spoke.
Clothes? They’re bringing clothes?
Would’ve been nice if he mentioned that earlier.
I’m freezing to death here.
“W-When are the clothes coming?”
My pronunciation was all slurred from the cold.
Seeing that, Amin frowned slightly, picked up another towel, and started drying his own hair.
“Maybe by tomorrow morning? Apparently, there are a lot of merchants staying at the inn, so they might be able to find a dress for you.”
“I don’t care if it’s a dress or not! Just tell them to bring anything, as soon as possible!”
No matter how I thought about it, there was no way I could stay naked in the same room as this lunatic.
But if I stayed in these wet clothes, I’d probably freeze to death.
“Well… not sure if they can hurry.”
He spoke lazily, smiling at me.
He was clearly enjoying this situation.
That damned jerk.
“Merchants must have their hands full with their own business.”
“You’re a lord! Act like one! Threaten them or something! Like say you’ll raise their taxes if they don’t bring clothes immediately!”
At my words, Amin gave a hollow laugh.
“Abuse my lordly authority? Just to stop my wife from taking off her clothes in front of me?”
He shrugged and leaned toward me with a smirk.
“My dear wife. You must not realize this, but you really have no luck with men. Walter, the nanny’s son, and now me. You’ve only ever been tangled up with scoundrels. What do you expect from a rogue?”
His smile made me grind my teeth.
Why bring Walter into this?
Walter’s not even a man, you crazy bastard.
“Can I seriously just hit you? Just once?”
I asked, and he tilted his head slightly, offering me his cheek like he didn’t care.
“Make it twice. After all, I’m your husband.”
Damn it.
That just made him even more annoying.
I glared at him, then moved my hands to the buttons of my dress.
The moment I touched the buttons, the smile disappeared from Amin’s face.
‘Did he think I wouldn’t actually do it?’
Honestly, I wasn’t that embarrassed about showing my naked body.
Diana Isla’s concerns were about other things.
But since he’s being like this… fine.
As I started unbuttoning, Amin cleared his throat and turned his head away.
“You said you’re a rogue, right?”
I kept checking to see if he’d turn back, but he didn’t.
“Are there rogues who get nervous seeing their wife’s naked body?”
I asked, watching the tension build in his jaw.
Rogue, my foot.
Today, it became clear.
He’s not a rogue.
Just a drunk.
I quickly laid my wet dress on the nightstand, then piled my corset, garter belt, stockings, and other damp, heavy clothes on top.
Without all those soggy layers weighing me down, I felt much lighter.
Not any warmer, but still.
I climbed onto the bed, wrapped myself tightly in the blanket like a cocoon, and approached Amin.
He looked momentarily flustered, but when he saw I was wrapped up from neck to toe, he let out a snort.
“You look like a snowman.”
“What kind of snowman feels cold?”
I replied gruffly and went to sit by the fireplace.
Then I frowned as I watched Amin sit there in his still-wet clothes like it was nothing.
“Aren’t… you going to take yours off?”
His eyebrows raised at my question.
“Provocative, aren’t you? My wife.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
Again. More nonsense.
But even at my scolding, he didn’t lose his composure.
“I’m not as fragile as someone I know. Unlike the person who fainted from just one kiss.”
“…!”
That instantly dragged up memories of our wedding night.
The night I collapsed after kissing him.
“If you hadn’t poisoned me that day, I wouldn’t have passed out.”
“Sure. So it’s my fault again. For daring to disobey orders and trying to die.”
He said mockingly.
“You were blaming me back then for not dying.”
That made me flinch.
Diana Isla’s memories surfaced.
On the day their marriage was announced—basically their engagement day—Diana Isla had slapped Amin across the face and screamed:
[You should’ve died back then!]
If not for you, I wouldn’t have ended up like this.
That’s what her resentful eyes had said.
“My wife is full of contradictions. Telling me to die… now telling me to live…”
His gaze toward the fireplace became distant.
I frowned at the sight.
That expression…
That endlessly blurred look in his eyes.
‘It’s familiar.’
The kind I’d seen countless times in Diana Isla’s life.
A little hollow.
A little sad.
And mostly—
‘A bored look.’
Without another word, he drank from his flask again.
Or at least, he was about to.
I snatched it from him.
“What are you…”
He reached out to take it back, but too late.
I tilted the flask back and downed it.
‘Holy crap, this is strong.’
The moment it hit my mouth, I felt a searing burn from my throat to my solar plexus.
This was nothing like wine or beer.
‘This crazy guy… has been drinking this every day?’
Coughing hard, I grabbed my neck and wheezed.
Amin picked up the flask I dropped and scowled.
“You drank it all?”
Instead of answering, I grabbed the sword at his waist—or at least pretended to draw it.
He instinctively reached for the hilt.
Our hands overlapped.
A chill ran through my fingers.
As if I were touching ice.
But it wasn’t just the cold I felt.
“What are you doing…”
“Checking.”
I slipped my fingers between his, intertwining them over the hilt.
Our hands became entangled.
Amin’s eyes widened.
By the warmth of the fireplace, I wrapped his cold fingers with my own.
And I felt it clearly.
His fingers… trembling ever so slightly.
I’d wanted to check this for a while now.
Ever since he pointed his sword at Leon.
That moment—I saw it.
Amin’s hand shaking.
“Your hands tremble when you touch a sword, right? That’s why you drink so often, to hide it.”
【That’s Amin Wilhelm’s secret.】
That’s what his sword had told me.
Now I was sure.
My eyes hadn’t been wrong.
A blacksmith could never miss such a thing.
Even though Diana Isla hadn’t noticed back then, I definitely did.
His hands… trembling ever since he lost to Walter.
That must be—
A lingering memory of defeat.
A scar of shame.
Just like the scar that must be on his shoulder.
I knew why he wouldn’t take off his shirt.
Underneath, on his shoulder, would be the mark left by my father’s Gram. And Walter’s Gram.
Crackle. Crackle.
The fire burst inside the logs, releasing the moisture within.
I liked that sound.
My father once said fire devours everything—wood, water, air.
Absolute power.
Standing before the forge, I used to feel like a loyal priestess of that power.
But now…
Looking at this man, broken in some part by that power, I felt strange.
What it truly meant to create swords that tear and split people apart… struck my heart again.
Amin Wilhelm, pierced by my father’s Gram.
And me… pierced by my own Gram.
A scar probably remains even on my corpse.
Only, since it was never stitched shut, it must have rotted and widened into a gaping hole.
His face twisted.
“Because of that damned sword… that broken sword… you ended up like this, didn’t you?”
I asked.
He answered with a sunken face.
“Maybe. Could be.”
His answer made my chest ache.
My own clumsy, stubborn hands had created a failure.
That failure had flowed into Amin, leading him to defeat… and down this twisted path.
That reality hit me hard.
And then—
“But it was a good sword.”
His face reflected red in the fireplace.
Just like when my Gram would glow.
His golden eyes, usually cold like moonlight in darkness, now burned bright red like the sun.
Still holding my hand tightly, he spoke:
“I’ve never held a better sword than that.”
His words cut straight into my heart.
