Chapter 44
Well, there’s no helping it.
Claudio pulled his lips into a lazy half-smile.
“Why don’t you try it on?”
“Right now?”
“It might not fit, you know.”
“Ah…”
That was true.
Hesitating a moment, Marsha gathered the neatly stacked boxes into her arms and retreated into her room.
Claudio sat there, briefly conflicted.
Would she actually come out dressed in it?
Or would she simply check the size alone and then reappear in her old clothes?
Knowing her, it’ll be the latter.
He should’ve been more honest instead of hiding behind excuses about the size.
He should’ve said, Try it on.
I want to see how it looks on you.
Though… if I had said that, she definitely wouldn’t have put it on.
Still, something felt strange.
Why was he this curious to see her wearing something he had bought?
He had told her it would suit her, sure—but in truth, it wasn’t that different from what she usually wore.
Maybe he was just so bored from idling away his days that even this seemed like entertainment.
Pathetic, he sneered at himself.
Meanwhile, inside her room, Marsha rubbed her palms against the hem of her old skirt before touching the new dress.
She couldn’t risk staining it with dirt—not when she might need to exchange it later.
But why on earth did he buy a hairpin?
Marsha rarely wore such things.
At most, she would tie her hair with an old ribbon or scrap of cloth.
Did Claudio think a pin like this would suit her?
Or had he simply told Urian to pick something appropriate and left it at that?
Still… would a pin even look good on hair as short as mine?
She held the pin up to her head here and there, studying her reflection in the mirror.
And suddenly, she felt a little embarrassed.
Was she really blushing just because she’d been given a gift?
Enough.
I should just try on the dress.
She stuck to her original plan—to check only the size.
Hmm, this looks like it might be a little small…
With a trace of worry, Marsha slipped into the dress—and to her surprise, it fit perfectly.
She bent at the waist to test it, but it didn’t restrict her in the slightest.
I didn’t expect it to fit this well.
Her eyes drifted doubtfully toward the shoes she had brought with her.
The dress fitting was one thing—the shopkeeper had been confident about that. But the shoes?
There’s no way Urian could know my shoe size.
At best, he’d have described her height and asked for a recommended size.
But Marsha’s feet were unusually small for her build.
What if they’re way too big…
She worried whether Urian had kept the receipt, then slipped her foot into the shoe—
—and froze.
They fit perfectly.
How… how could they possibly know my exact size?
Shock turned quickly into suspicion.
Without meaning to, Marsha half-turned toward the door, ready to demand an answer.
But just then, the mirror caught a glint of something at her throat.
Ah.
The neckline was lower than her usual clothes, leaving the chain of her necklace plainly exposed.
If Claudio saw it, he would no doubt grow curious, demanding to know why she kept it hidden under her clothes.
Better not draw any unnecessary attention…
Marsha unclasped the necklace and carefully set it atop her folded clothes before stepping out.
“Hey.”
Claudio, who had been leaning against the wall with a bored expression, staring blankly around the cramped little house, turned at her call.
That was fast.
But something in her voice carried an urgency he couldn’t quite place.
What was it? Claudio turned his head lazily toward her—and froze.
Bathed in sunlight, her chestnut-brown hair gleaming like fire, Marsha stood there in the simple dress.
His eyes widened.
What…?
It didn’t make sense.
It was a cheap dress, the kind commoners wore.
At best, a shabby little thing.
And yet—why did it look so beautiful?
He had never once thought that way, not even when gazing at women famed across the continent for their beauty, adorned in jewels and silks.
But now—this plain, ordinary dress—
Is it the shopkeeper’s skill? No…
The dress was still just a dress.
Ordinary.
Forgettable.
But on her—
So it’s because she’s the one wearing it…
His gaze trailed back up to her face—those fresh, soft cheeks, those guileless green eyes, that small, delicate nose, those lips that could never quite hide her feelings.
Piece by piece, he realised: she wasn’t made beautiful by the dress.
She was the one who made it beautiful.
What is this…?
His heart thundered wildly, like a ship battered by a raging storm.
He had never felt this before.
It was strange, unsettling… Yet, at the same time, he found himself wanting to live inside that turmoil.
Even if it someday crushed the breath from his lungs, he thought, oddly enough, that he wouldn’t mind.
Meanwhile, Marsha was growing uneasy.
Claudio hadn’t answered her, even though she had clearly called out, even though they were standing so close their eyes met.
Why isn’t he saying anything? Do I look weird…?
Tilting her head slightly, she called again.
“Dio.”
At that, a spark lit in his eyes.
“…What?”
His voice was husky, as if roused from a deep sleep. He noticed it too, clearing his throat quickly.
“You just ignored me. Are you feeling sick or something?”
Marsha lowered her gaze, checking over her clothes in worry.
“No. Nothing’s wrong.”
He answered quickly, almost too quickly, then jerked his eyes away.
A beat later, he pressed his fingers to his lips, saying nothing more.
“…Hmm.”
Marsha still didn’t trust his answer, glancing down to double-check her appearance.
Claudio’s eyes flicked toward her again.
Should he just say it—that she looked good? He hesitated.
Before he could decide, Masha spoke up.
“Um, there’s something I’m curious about. These shoes…”
She slid her right foot forward, showing him.
Claudio realised he had missed his chance and replied in a faintly resigned voice,
“They don’t fit?”
“No, they fit too well.”
She frowned, puzzlement clear on her face.
“How can they fit this perfectly? Urian doesn’t even know my shoe size.”
“……”
Claudio’s thoughts slipped back to the night he carried her to bed.
The bed had been ridiculously small—just like this tiny house—so much so that he himself could hardly fit on it.
Yet when Marsha lay down, somehow the bed no longer seemed cramped at all.
As he pulled the blanket up to cover her properly, his eyes caught on her feet peeking out from under the covers.
So small.
He found himself lowering his hand, almost entranced, then kneeling at her feet without realising it.
How could such small feet possibly carry her through the struggles of life?
But why are there so many wounds…?
Her shoes, always the same old pair, weren’t just shabby in appearance—they had long since lost the ability to protect her.
They didn’t even fit properly.
And to think she walked through these rough forest paths in shoes like that…
I need to get her new ones.
He had wanted to do it right away.
Even if the best shoes in this little market couldn’t be much better, they would still be kinder to her than the worn-out pair she had.
Gently, he cupped her foot in both hands.
Cold…
It was cold like someone who had run barefoot across snow in midwinter.
He didn’t know if that struck him so strongly because of its peculiarity—or because it was the very first time he had ever held someone’s foot.
But from that moment on, even the act of clasping his empty hands could summon the vivid memory of holding hers.
That was how he could describe her foot size to Urian.
But he would never tell Marsha this.
She would surely hate him for touching her without permission.
***
“I wonder too,” Claudio said smoothly, masking it all with a practised ease. “Has Urian always been that observant? I’ll have to ask him someday.”
Ah, so he doesn’t know either…
Maybe Urian really did have that uncanny eye for detail.
Marsha nodded to herself, half convinced, just as—
“Marsha!”
Berry’s voice called from outside the still-open door.
“That girl is tireless,” Claudio drawled lazily, propping his chin on one hand. “Always dropping by.”
“She’s just a good friend who worries about me. Anyway, I’ll step out for a bit.”
At his nod, Marsha hurried out in little steps.
No sooner had she opened the door than Berry’s voice rang out, loud and delighted:
“Gasp! Marsha! What is this? A new dress? Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous! You look amazing!”
“Ah… thank you…”
Her reply was barely audible, soft as a whisper.
Claudio chuckled.
He couldn’t see her, but he didn’t need to—he could picture it perfectly.
Her ears flushed a delicate pink, her lips curved in an awkward little smile.
Rising to his feet, he headed for the back room.
He knew Berry never liked having him around, and that Marsha, in turn, fretted over that.
If he stayed here, Berry would notice him and the girl would be unable to speak freely.
Claudio closed the door behind him, only then noticing the neatly folded clothes Marsha had left on the bed.
His body froze mid-step.
The thought struck him—she had just undressed here, in this very room.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known that.
It wasn’t even something extraordinary.
And yet… Why did the realisation churn up such a restless storm inside him?
What is this feeling?
A strange heat welled up, simmering under his skin, and Claudio frowned, as if to rein it back.
“Phew…”
With a sigh, he turned toward the window.
Maybe a breath of fresh air would sweep away this peculiar mood, clear it from his chest.
But his steps faltered before he could reach it.
Because something caught his eye—resting on top of the clothes.
A necklace.
That’s…
Yes, he recognised the cord—she always wore it around her neck.
But what hung from it was unusual: a pair of rings, each set with a long tourmaline gemstone that shifted from deep green into a burning red.
Not the kind of thing an ordinary commoner could own.
But what unsettled Claudio wasn’t their value. It was something else.
He picked up the smaller ring, turning it gently between his fingers.
Its size was unmistakable—it would fit perfectly around Marsha’s slender ring finger. Then… it was hers, surely.
But the man’s ring—whose is that?
Could it belong to the person she’s been searching for?
“……”
Claudio’s gaze wavered, uneasy, the question gnawing at him.
