Chapter 41
After the satisfying peak had passed, they remained leaned against each other, limbs still entangled. The afterglow felt exceptionally long today. Vanessa curled her body, resting her cheek against his chest as it rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.
She welcomed the comfort of their shared warmth and the sensation of slick skin pressed against skin, even as she found herself unable to move so much as a finger. Tangled together in such a languid state, she felt like a slug that had been stripped of its thin shell, leaving only tender, exposed flesh. He gathered her up, wrapping her in the bedsheet as he lifted her.
“Wait, just a moment…”
“Don’t waste your strength. Just cooperate.”
He tapped the back of her neck with his right hand. Though she didn’t want to be carried like a child, her body—exhausted to the point where she couldn’t even twitch a finger—demanded compromise. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out to drape her arms around River Ross’s neck.
He lowered her into a bathtub filled with lukewarm water, unconcerned that the sheet was now completely soaked. Vanessa let out a small groan.
“What is it? Is it cold?”
“No… the temperature is fine. It feels good…”
The water temperature wasn’t the problem; her body was. Even though he had been extremely careful to control his strength whenever he held her, she still felt the strain. As she dipped her face into the water up to the tip of her nose to swallow the lingering ache, her long hair swayed beneath the surface like golden seaweed.
“Does it still hurt?”
A long, wet hand brushed away the dried tracks on her cheeks and around her eyes. Only when Vanessa shook her head did his tense expression finally soften.
Standing up, River Ross scooped cold water from a basin in the corner and washed the traces of their encounter from his own body. While he looked after her with such meticulous care, he treated himself with the careless efficiency of a soldier washing in a tent during a campaign.
Vanessa rested her cheek against the edge of the tub, watching the arc of his movements. Streams of water poured over his head and ran down his tightly knit muscles like small rivulets. He must have noticed her gaze long ago, yet he didn’t hesitate for a second.
Then again, with a body like that, one wouldn’t feel the slightest bit of shame walking around naked. Even if he were carved into a statue, people a hundred years from now would probably only complain that the sculptor had made him too perfectly to be real…
“Vanessa.”
Vanessa jerked upright, wiping a stray drop of water from her lip with the back of her hand. She must have dozed off while leaning against the tub. By now, River Ross had finished washing and was already dressed in clean clothes.
“I’ve left a robe over there, so finish washing and come out. Don’t fall asleep this time.”
He watched her for a moment with a faint smile as she nodded obediently, her face flushed. A wet sheet had been hung across a rope spanning the ceiling, acting like a makeshift screen.
Vanessa glanced at the thin sheet with a trace of anxiety before hurrying out of the tub. She gathered her damp hair and worked up a rich lather with the soap. Using a soft sponge, she scrubbed every inch of her body. Fortunately, there was more than enough water left in the basin to rinse off the soap completely.
Feeling much refreshed, she pulled on the robe, tying it securely before stepping out of the bathroom. A fire was crackling in the room’s fireplace. Burning a fire for a couple of hours to drive out the warehouse’s characteristic dampness had now become a familiar part of her daily routine.
“Here.”
Vanessa took a few sips of the water River Ross handed her, then moved away toward the desk to escape the heat of the fire. Her gaze drifted lazily over the items on the desk until it stopped on a drawing held down by a paperweight.
It was of the Linden train station. Though it consisted of only a few quick lines, it vividly captured the bustling energy of the early morning. Impressed, Vanessa pulled the drawing out from under the paperweight to examine it.
“When did you draw this?”
He looked back from where he was tending the fire and replied casually.
“Yesterday morning.”
“How are you so good at landscapes?”
“I don’t know… It’s an old habit, I suppose. A way of keeping records without using words.”
“That’s amazing. How did you pick up a habit like that?”
“It just happened.”
Despite answering every question, his tone remained indifferent. Vanessa had many more things she wanted to ask, but realizing she was the only one doing the questioning, she suppressed the rest of her curiosity.
Besides, it might have just been a feeling, but he didn’t seem particularly fond of the topic.
“It’s good to have something you can lose yourself in. Though I can’t quite imagine you sitting there drawing.”
“Do you want to see?”
“Of course I do… Landscapes and portraits are nice, but have you ever tried drawing something from your imagination?”
“I don’t think I have.”
He set down the poker and walked over to the desk. Opening a metal tin, he sharpened the tip of a new piece of charcoal. As Vanessa watched with fascination while he clipped a sheet of drawing paper into a sketchbook, he gestured toward the bed with his chin.
“Sit down.”
“…Now?”
“Or you can lie down, if you prefer.”
Vanessa set the drawing down with a flustered expression. She hadn’t expected him to pick her as a subject right this second. Even so, her inner curiosity won out, and she didn’t refuse, settling awkwardly onto the edge of the bed.
Theodore rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, much like he did when drawing while leaning against a ship’s deck. He sketched a few quick lines to establish the initial composition, then looked at Vanessa over the top of the paper.
“How do you want to be recorded?”
“Me?”
“Imagine this is a portrait that won’t be discovered for another hundred years.”
“That’s a difficult question…”
“Use that imagination of yours instead of me.”
Vanessa knit her brows in serious thought for a moment, then looked up with sparkling eyes.
“A double agent with dual citizenship?”
“…Is that what you want to be?”
“Yes. At least once in my life.”
A look of sheer disbelief crossed the man’s face for an instant. Vanessa didn’t hold back her giggles. After all, he was a man of the military. Especially since he was a naval officer—a branch famous for its loyalty to the Royal Family—her words must have sounded like utter nonsense.
After pondering again, Vanessa held up her fingers like claws and answered.
“Then a very terrifying person? With sharp claws and teeth.”
“What kind of monster is that supposed to be…?”
“Fine, a monster. My name is already like that anyway.”
Theodore watched the woman as she began to relax. Her face, now much more comfortable, even held a trace of a smile.
“Was that a name given to you by the late Earl?”
“No. My mother did.”
Siren. He had thought it was a peculiar name for a noblewoman ever since he first heard it. People didn’t usually name their children after monsters—unless they intended it as a curse.
As if feeling obligated to answer the question in his eyes, Vanessa spoke.
“She said she saw a woman on the beach when she was pregnant with me.”
“A woman?”
“The woman beckoned her to come closer, so she walked toward her. When she came to her senses, she was already waist-deep in the water. She said she was about to be swept away by the waves when some fishermen rescued her. They told her she had been enchanted by a siren.”
“……”
“And after that, they warned her never to go to the sea when winter approached. They said people who see a siren once will keep encountering them.”
“……”
“She said it was so fascinating that it stayed with her for a long time. My mother loved stories like that.”
“Stay right there.”
It was the moment a faint, fleeting smile drifted over her lips like mist. Her body tensed at the command, which felt like an attempt to capture time itself.
“Just turn your head this way.”
Vanessa turned her head awkwardly to look at him. River Ross let out a low chuckle as her face stiffened once more.
“Lift your gaze a bit more.”
Vanessa tilted her chin up slightly. Her posture had naturally slumped back into a relaxed lean. The look in River Ross’s eyes as they darted between the sketchbook and her was remarkably serious.
Only then did she realize she was facing the man wearing nothing but a loosely tied robe. Beneath the thin fabric, which clung to her damp skin and traced every curve of her body, she wore nothing at all.
