Chapter 69
Scarlett, having returned to the capital by tram, paused for a moment and looked at the tram heading west toward the Dumfelt estate.
Between the engineering school and the belongings she had stored in the laboratory, she had recently received a great deal of help from Viktor. Even if she still resented him, she thought at the very least she owed him thanks. With that in mind, she boarded the tram to Dumfelt Street.
Throughout January, the capital had been cold, but not as frigid as the desolate plains where the university stood. By the time Scarlett arrived at Dumfelt Street, it was just past four o’clock, and the sun was already drifting slowly down toward the western sea.
When Scarlett entered the mansion, Blight appeared.
“You’ve arrived, ma’am.”
Because he never knew when or in what state Scarlett might show up, Blight greeted her as though her arrival was only natural.
Leading the way, Blight said,
“The weather is bitterly cold.”
“It really is.”
Scarlett answered while following him up the stairs. When they reached Viktor’s study, Blight knocked four times and spoke.
“Young master.”
Perhaps to signal her presence, Blight knocked once more than usual. Since the door was icy from winter’s chill, gentlemen were expected to open it first. Viktor did the same.
He opened the door and looked silently at Scarlett standing there. Scarlett met his gaze, and while they faced each other, Blight withdrew.
After a pause, Viktor asked,
“Scarlett, do you love me?”
“Huh? …Yes.”
Scarlett answered without thinking, swallowing a sigh right after. His eyes unsettled her so much that the words slipped out.
She wondered briefly how to recover from it, but then Viktor smiled.
“I see.”
It felt like it had been a long time since she’d seen him smile.
He stepped closer, wrapping her hands in his.
“Let’s go to the cedar forest. You said you wanted to see it.”
Scarlett almost asked if that wasn’t a place only members of the Dumfelt family were allowed to go. Then she realized—he had forgotten that they were divorced.
Though flustered, she quickly nodded.
“Yes, I’d like to go.”
“We’ll go soon.”
He rose and instructed a servant to fetch his coat.
Something about the mansion’s atmosphere felt different from last time. Scarlett thought it strange. When her eyes landed absently on a vase, she noticed that the deep and pale pink roses had no thorns. Apparently, the maids had been ordered to remove them.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have handed over even the little tasks I used to do myself…’
Feeling guilty at the thought, she lowered her gaze—only to notice Viktor’s hand.
As he removed his white gloves and pulled on leather ones, she saw a wound on his hand. Aside from the raised veins, his hands were smooth, almost too perfect for a soldier. That long cut across his index finger stood out starkly.
Scarlett thought that before the divorce, she would never have left such an injury unattended. Without hesitation, she approached him.
“Let me see your hand.”
He looked at her briefly, then held out his right hand. Scarlett frowned at the wound on his finger.
“How did you hurt yourself?”
He didn’t answer. Scarlett scowled, lifting her eyes to him.
“I asked what you were doing when you got hurt.”
“A rose thorn scratched me.”
Scarlett froze at his words. He continued,
“You always took the thorns off. Now I understand why.”
Remembering the sting of being pricked by thorns, her expression soured. She gently stroked the wound on his hand, wondering if he had begun removing the thorns himself.
Together, they walked toward the cedar forest. The forest was both beautiful and intimidating—a place where nature overwhelmed humanity.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is, in its way.”
The forest’s scent, always lingering faintly around Viktor, calmed Scarlett and yet made her heart race.
“Viktor.”
She looked at him, and he looked back.
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
“I do.”
She let out a short, wry laugh. Maybe this was the furthest limit of what he could express.
That night, Viktor lay beside Scarlett as though it were the most natural thing.
Scarlett turned toward him, cupped his cheek, and leaned in for a kiss. But Viktor sat up abruptly.
“…Why? You don’t want to?”
He looked at her.
“How could I not?”
“You don’t dislike it?”
“I don’t.”
Of course, he wasn’t the sort of man to sleep with a woman who’d lost her composure. Still, when she recalled his lukewarm responses throughout their marriage, she wondered if she had been the only one happy during their intimacy.
People called intimacy “making love,” but with him, it had always felt like she was the only one loving, while he remained silent.
Scarlett sometimes resented his restraint. She had given him permission—that if she clung to him, at least a kiss would be allowed. But he never initiated.
She straddled his lap, facing him. He froze.
Placing both hands on his shoulders, she asked,
“Look at me, Viktor.”
“….”
“Don’t you want to touch me?”
Her voice was wounded. He gave a brief laugh.
Flustered, she tried to pull away, her neck reddening. But his large hand caught her waist and pulled her closer.
The strength of it made her gasp. She rose slightly on her knees, leaning in to kiss him—when his other hand covered her mouth.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I said yes—why not?”
She had thought her heart was nothing but ashes by now, ready to scatter in the wind. But no—embers still glowed, flaring at the slightest breeze, unsteady and dangerous.
Would this man ever be swept away by such a fire? Would there come a time when he made mistakes, hurt from what he couldn’t have, cried from losing love?
Scarlett whispered,
“I wish you’d break.”
Just once, she wanted his heart to shatter and collapse, like hers had in the convent. She wanted to gather the broken pieces in her hands and return them to Viktor Dumfelt herself.
She wanted him, too, to feel that kind of love—so overwhelming it terrified him. Otherwise, his flawless face seemed too unfair, as though she could never rest easy, not even in death.
“That might be difficult.”
Viktor replied flatly.
Scarlett sighed softly, pushed his hand away, and climbed off his lap. She headed for the door, but he stood as well.
She slipped into the thick cardigan draped over a chair, intending to leave, but he crossed the room in a few strides and pressed his hand against the door.
Lifting her head to him, she said,
“If this is how it’s going to be, let’s sleep separately.”
“Why?”
“Because if you lie next to me, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
Hearing her delicate lips utter such words—words sharp enough to wound—Viktor chuckled. He pulled her wrist, drawing her to him.
“Then touch me.”
“You said no.”
“If you want it that much, then you should.”
He leaned down, whispering in her ear,
“Break me.”
His refined voice froze Scarlett, then made her exhale a breath laced with a faint moan.
She wrapped her arms around his slender waist. His inhumanly trained body radiated composure.
Looking up at him, she stretched out her arms, as if asking to be embraced.
If she ignored it, it would become nothing. Tonight she wanted him, and tomorrow she could pretend it had never happened.
She only wanted to know—when he told her to come back, what had he truly meant? Was it for honor, for desire, or as he claimed… for love?
Would one night together tell her?
Viktor lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed, and set her on his lap as he sat down.
Scarlett looked up at him, her body tense with a new kind of intensity. His expression was unchanged—still the same as before.
But after he told her to break him, that impassive face didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.
She took his face in her hands, pulled him closer, and bit her lower lip. Then she guided his hand to cover her mouth.
When his fingers twitched as if to stop her biting, she slapped the back of his hand and glared. He smirked, lips curling, the composure in his expression still irritating her.
As she moved his hand to her nape, Viktor bent down and kissed her. She was startled, but stroked his neck and shoulders as she kissed him back.
She told herself she was only using him. No matter how much she resented him, she couldn’t deny that he was a perfect creature.
And he was a good kisser. She had no one to compare him to, but from what others had said, not everyone felt so delirious from a kiss. That must mean he was skilled.
Perhaps he had learned from women like Nina Hunter.
Had they, too, grown weary of a man who could never burn eternally?
‘That must be why Nina Hunter didn’t wait once she realized Viktor wasn’t coming back.’
Scarlett let out a hollow laugh. Viktor pulled back slightly.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I think I would have waited. Even if you never returned from the sea.”
“….”
“A year, ten years—I would’ve waited like a fool.”
Yes, she probably would have. Thinking back on foolish, love-struck Scarlett Crimson always filled her with shame.
Then Viktor asked,
“Why bring up other women here?”
“It just crossed my mind.”
“Even so, you shouldn’t.”
He spoke as if soothing a child and tugged at the knot of her nightgown.
When she tried to stop him, he seized both wrists and pinned them behind her back.
The suddenness made her blink in confusion. In that moment, the knot came undone.
Looking her in the eye, Viktor murmured,
“Hmm? Scarlett.”
“…Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”
He chuckled and nodded.
“Fair point. This is adult business.”
Though he knew she was uncomfortable, he didn’t release her wrists. He pushed up her nightgown, grasped her thigh, and pulled her close until their stomachs pressed together.
Scarlett shut her eyes. If this was the price of a fleeting lie, she thought, then maybe she wouldn’t mind paying it a few more times.
