Rain fell with the soft wind, soaking the heavens into a muddy haze.
Watching the sheets of water that seemed ready to drown the streets beneath crashing waves, Celia parted her lips.
“...What about our carriage?”
With rain like this, it seemed impossible for any carriage to move.
Surely not, she thought as she turned toward him, but an awkward sigh slipped between Lucius’s red lips.
“As you can see, neither the horses nor the coachman can see ahead. The wheels keep slipping too.”
Still unable to accept the situation, Celia looked toward the drenched attendant standing nearby like a soaked rat. The servant lowered his head deeply.
“Then how are we getting back?”
Standing close to the window, Celia followed the pouring rain with her eyes.
The roads surrounding the opera house had long since turned into blurred mirrors covered in reflected light.
Lucius tilted his head back in thought. He clearly looked hesitant about whether he should say it, but eventually he spoke carefully.
“I think we’ll have to stay at a nearby inn tonight.”
“...An inn?”
Her voice cracked slightly.
As though he had expected that reaction, Lucius immediately explained.
“The nearest noble townhouse is at least a thirty-minute walk from here. We’d definitely catch cold. The inns might already be full because of the sudden storm, but I’ll handle that somehow.”
She already hated the idea of staying out overnight, but an inn? A place where travelers slept?
The words circled bitterly inside her mouth.
“Where is the nearest inn?”
“If we run... we should get there quickly enough, so don’t worry too much.”
Lucius lifted a hand and flicked his fingers lightly. The attendant, still dripping water onto the floor, hurried away to secure a room.
“If you don’t want to go to the inn, we could stay here until the rain stops.”
“And when exactly is it supposed to stop?”
That downpour looked far more foolish to wait out than to challenge.
“So that’s what you think too?”
“...”
All around them, nobles were already murmuring uneasily among themselves. The theater had offered resting areas, but they were overcrowded.
“There might even be thunder soon, so I’d rather leave before then. Would that be alright?”
How was she supposed to run through rain like that?
Her vision darkened.
This was all Lucius’s fault. If he hadn’t insisted on coming to the opera, none of this would’ve happened.
“I can’t run.”
“Hm.”
“Do I look like someone who can sprint through a storm?”
Her cheek twitched with irritation. Clutching the hem of her dress tightly, she glared up at him.
Lucius gave her a strange look.
“Then how about I carry you?”
A dangerous gaze always came with dangerous intentions.
“What...?”
“You won’t be able to run in those shoes. I roughly know where the inn is, so it’ll be faster if I carry you.”
Who was carrying whom?
Celia mentally picked apart every word like someone learning a language for the first time.
Then horror crossed her face as the impossible reality finally settled in.
Meanwhile, Lucius glanced outside once more before bending slightly, resting a hand on his knee. He looked up at the lowered face of Celia from an angle. The way he brushed back his damp hair and met her eyes felt unnervingly natural.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you to the opera and put you through this.”
Against her will, her fingertips twitched.
“I can’t even promise the inn will be decent. I’ll do my best, but we’ll probably still get rained on a little.”
“...”
“But I don’t know when this storm will stop, and I can’t just leave you standing here.”
Words of refusal rose to the tip of her throat.
The man trying so hard to persuade her felt deeply unfamiliar. Lucius had never been someone who patiently tolerated her stubbornness before.
Celia fidgeted endlessly with her fingers before finally moving her lips.
“What if I get cold, soaked, uncomfortable... and end up sick?”
Even at her probing tone, he smiled.
“That’s my concern.”
Sweeping a hand lightly through the air, he slowly extended it toward her.
Celia stared down at the offered palm.
“I’ll make sure not a single drop of rain touches you.”
The sound of rain battering the earth flowed over his voice.
The sky sounded ominous. It felt ready to unleash lightning at any moment, and delaying any longer seemed unwise.
So this was unavoidable.
“Do whatever you want.”
Even with her reluctant answer, Lucius looked pleased.
“Excuse me, then.”
The moment his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, her feet lifted from the ground.
One hand supported beneath her thighs while the other circled behind her back. Hard muscle and sculpted warmth pressed against her side.
Startled by the sudden movement enough to steal her breath away, she instinctively grabbed his shoulder.
Goosebumps rose across her skin at the closeness.
They were far too close.
Celia belatedly realized there was a world of difference between merely touching someone and completely surrendering your body into their arms.
At some point, his cape—which had apparently been draped over her shoulders—was pulled up to cover her head completely. Lucius tightened his hold around her.
Touching skin. Warmth. Breath. His scent.
She couldn’t believe it.
She was being carried by him? By Lucius?
Confusion swept through her faster than the rain crashing onto the earth.
Meanwhile, Lucius strode out of the theater.
“Can you be careful not to bite your tongue?”
“I-I’m fine... don’t worry about me.”
Lucius began running across the rain-slick stone pavement.
Silence shattered, replaced by the roar of rain filling her ears.
The raindrops striking his shoulders were freezing cold, but only briefly. The cape shielding her head and body protected her from the storm.
Rainwater streaked across the streets in dense patterns. The night sky was heavy and dark beneath thick clouds, while the rain alone poured endlessly from above.
With every step, she could feel the firm movement of his legs against the ground.
Eventually, Celia decided to compromise with herself.
Just think of Lucius as a horse.
You’re riding a horse.
Good heavens. Lucius Windmere was getting utterly drenched in rain while still trying to shield only her. What kind of madness was greater than this?
Every time he drew a light breath, warm air brushed against her temple.
The night air was damp and wet, yet his body heat was so warm that she could barely feel the cold around them.
She lifted her gaze through the gap in the cape.
His rain-soaked hair clung to his forehead, and tiny droplets trembled at the tips of his lashes above his furrowed brow.
The rain pouring over them felt distant, dreamlike.
But the warmth of Lucius holding her was suffocatingly vivid.
‘This is completely insane.’
She pressed her lips tightly together.
The smell of rainwater and soap mingled in the air.
Droplets slid from Lucius’s wet hair down along his neck as he roughly dried it with a towel and walked across the room.
The inn they had barely managed to find was, unsurprisingly, of terrible quality.
‘At least we can wash up.’
Something to be grateful for, certainly, yet Lucius felt no satisfaction.
He himself did not particularly care where he stayed, but making his wife sleep in such a shabby place made the title of young duke feel almost laughable.
“It’s fortunate we found somewhere to sleep, but that doesn’t make this place acceptable.”
While Celia bathed, Lucius had borrowed the innkeeper’s room to change clothes. Looking around the cramped surroundings, he lifted a cup of lukewarm water to his lips.
And when he lowered the cup again, the smile that had once spread across his eyes like sunlight was gone.
Instead, he sat down and crossed his long legs.
Old habits evidently remained unchanged. Resting his left leg over his right, he leaned deeply into the creaking wooden chair.
His fingertips tapped against the armrest.
Tap. Tap.
As though counting something. Or organizing his thoughts.
The steady rhythm resembled the pulse of his wandering mind, strangely unsettling.
“Why are there so many things that don’t make sense?”
Resting a hand against his mouth, he muttered quietly.
And then—
“Why is Celia wary of me?”
His voice was low and deep. Half-lidded eyes sank into shadow.
‘Because I lost my memories? Because I don’t seem like myself?’
Yet she had once told him she would accept him exactly as he was, no matter what form he took.
How could he possibly forget words that had fallen into his confused world like a beam of light?
And still, she never approached him first.
The caution deeply carved into her eyes flashed murkily whenever she looked at him, tightening painfully around his chest.
They had known each other since they were five years old.
They had already been married for over two and a half years.
‘Every time I approached her, every time I showed her kindness, Celia reacted as though she were facing a stranger.’
Throughout all the time she stood beside him, Celia seemed like someone constantly suppressing something.
The stiffening muscles, the trembling eyes, the gaze that failed to hide its agitation amidst moments that should have flowed naturally.
Lucius slowly clenched his fist.
