Misfortune 67

Chapter 67

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Roan was smoking a cigar at the bow of the ship.

A breeze from the sea gently swept the fumes from his cigar, along with his sunset-black hair.

Staring intently at the distant horizon, his eyes seemed at once shallow, like a dry river, and deep, like a river that would drown if you stepped into it.

"Colonel Barthez!"

Sylver called out cheerfully to Roan.

Roan turned with a raised eyebrow, suspicious of his adjutant's more than usual cheerful voice, and then stiffened when he noticed the platinum-colored hair that brushed against his back. 

“She’s here to see you, Colonel."

Sylver reported, stepping aside to allow Delnia to step forward.

She took a step forward and bowed, not bothering to correct Sylver’s odd omission.

When she looked up again, her blue eyes were narrowed, as if she had witnessed the unthinkable.

"Have a good time, then."

Sylver saluted Roan and departed, leaving the last of his unhelpful words behind.

The two stared at each other wordlessly for a moment.

The sound of waves crashing against the ship drowned out the distant laughter.

Delnia lowered her head slightly, uncomfortable with the piercing gaze. All the while, Roan's eyes still refused to leave hers.

"...."

Truth be told, he was in a fairly dazed mood. Perhaps it didn't feel real.

Because the woman who suddenly appeared in front of him didn't look like his slave, but like a noble lady who had once been.

"I'm here at Leticia's request."

Unable to endure the strange silence any longer, Delnia spoke first.

"An urgent letter arrived and she asked me to deliver it for her."

"An urgent letter?"

Roan echoed, and instead of explaining, she held out the letter.

He tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. It was short.

[Colonel, it's Milan.

A few words on behalf of Leticia.

She says this is a special gift for you.

Leticia sayd she hopes you have a good time.

I, too, hope you have a good time at the party].

A sneer escaped his lips as he realized the situation. He could see the butler's hesitant expression as he picked up the pen, unable to resist Leticia's nag.

Crumpling the letter roughly into his pocket, he glanced back at the gift.

The woman, dressed not in her usual drab black, but in a gown as bright as a spring flower, was almost laughably beautiful. Her hair was the color of the setting sun, and it gave the illusion of a subtle radiance.

Roan's gaze scanned her body, taking in every inch of her, until it landed on the deep plunging neckline. She was remarkable for her smooth lines, not one of which had an uneven edge.

"Tell her I got it."

Roan replied, the corners of his mouth forming a satisfied arc.

His crisp voice tickled her ears strangely, and Delnia bowed slightly to him, clasping her hands together as if that would give her strength.

"Yes. I'll be off, then."

It hadn't been what she'd expected in many ways, but she'd gotten the job done. It was time to go back.

But she couldn't turn, because before she could, he spoke.

"Stay."

Delnia's eyes widened at the unexpected command. It was enough to give Roan pause.

It was an unexpected gift. He wouldn't mind one bit, if only to see Leticia's tearful devotion.

"But..................."

The woman trailed off, unable to hide her discomfort.

It was easy to see where her nerves were going. She had been trying to hide since earlier.

"They might get the wrong idea if I stay here."

She warned euphemistically. She didn't want them to think he was crazy enough to bring his mistress here.

"So?"

Roan shrugged lightly. As if being a man in love with the mistress was something he could live with.

In truth, Roan had been subjected to the same misconception countless times since he'd bought her as a slave. She could die and rise again and not know what kind of gossip these self-proclaimed gentlemen enjoy.

And he had never once bothered to correct their misconceptions.

And now.....................

'I'd rather they misunderstand.'

Because in reality, the woman was beautiful beyond belief.

And every asshole in this room knew it.

So Roan was happy to be misunderstood. It wouldn't hurt to show them who she belonged to, if only in this way, since she wasn't branded as his.

And didn’t the other man had come to beg him to sell her back to him? 

It would never be enough.

The woman's mouth twitched a little in disbelief when she noticed the satisfied smile on his face. Like a teacher seeing an underachiever beyond redemption.

"You said you'd do anything."

Whether she did or not, Roan pulled out the one card she could never resist.

"That’s..................."

She was about to retort, but with a shallow sigh, she straightened her half-turned body again.

Roan tossed his unfinished cigar into the sea and leaned against the railing at an angle. He felt her approaching him.

Roan flashed her a glance. Her eyes were now fixed on the blazing horizon.

A red flower bounced on her shoulder, tying her long locks into a neat bun. It was supposed to be an artificial flower, but every time the wind blew it seemed to tickle his nostrils with its fresh scent.

With a half-hearted smile, he followed her and turned his gaze to the distant horizon.

The sunset he had once hated stretched on forever, and the woman who had caused it stood beside him, bathed in a reddish glow.

And yet, he didn't feel bad, much to his surprise.

Like something bad was offset by something worse.

He didn't know why, but he felt better.

The early fall breeze was crisp, the cigar was delicious, and the woman next to him was beautiful.

It was one of those nights when he realized that was all he needed.

*** 

It was a day where nothing went as expected.

But that was nothing new after being in this position, so Delnia swallowed her familiar resignation and stayed by Roan's side.

Leaning against the railing at an angle, his gaze was fixed on the setting horizon. The sun, being swallowed by the sea, spread a halo of light all around, like a candle about to be extinguished.

The face she hadn't seen in a long time was bathed in the light of the setting sun, giving it a warm, soft glow. But she didn't think it was just an optical illusion of the setting sun.

His expression was relaxed, as if he had been freed from all his troubles, and there was even a hint of life in his eyes.

They said Blois was a home away from home for sailors, and she wondered if it was any different for him.

"I'm thirsty."

"Oh, then, I can....................."

Roan muttered absentmindedly, and Delnia looked around for some drinks.

But he stomped off before she could finish looking around. He returned with a glass of champagne in each hand from a table on one side of the deck.

His expression remained impishly unchanged, as if the absurdity of having a slave right next to him wasn’t strange.

He even casually offered her a drink. Like any other gentleman offering a lady a drink at a banquet.

It was an unfamiliar kindness to her, as she couldn't tell how long it had been since she'd seen him wasn’t being angry.

But there was no way she could refuse, so Delnia lifted her stiffened hand and accepted the glass. His fingers were eerily hot when she touched them.

"..................I'll drink well."

Roan didn't answer, only tilted his head slightly before raising the glass to his mouth.

Delnia slowly sipped her champagne as well. The bubbles popped on the tip of her tongue before the delicate, rich, fruity flavor lingered in her mouth like an aftertaste.

She stole a glance at him, wondering how long it had been since she had tasted something like this.

Suddenly, a breeze blew in from the sea, wet with water.

Delnia turned her head away from the wind and swept her hair out of her face. When the wind died down, she fixed her hair and straightened her posture.

Unlike her, Roan stood steady and still, letting the wind blow through his body.

***

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