RMCOM 6

Chapter 6

Unlike the first day, something about him felt different, and the unfamiliarity stood out.

It wasn’t that his face or his behavior had changed.

He just seemed… slightly different somehow.

“Haa…”

Ben took a deep breath as he put the medicine box back into the drawer.

As he did, the heat slowly drained from his body, and he began to calm down.

After standing there for a while, Ben approached Chersinia once his body temperature settled.

Chersinia stared straight at him as he walked toward her.

What exactly changed?

Eyeing him suspiciously, she rose from her chair.

Their gazes met head-on.

At that moment, Chersinia realized what felt off.

“Did you grow taller?”

On the first day she brought him here, his head had barely reached her shoulder.

Now, their eye levels were roughly the same.

“I think so. My ankles and knees have been aching and sore every night.”

Even so—could someone really grow this much in just three days?

She compared the height of his head to her own.

Sure enough, they were nearly identical.

So it’s true that men can keep growing—even after going to the army.

Only his height had changed; his soft, downy features and youthful voice were still the same.

He still looked more like a boy than a man.

The meals hadn’t been especially lavish, but she’d made sure he ate three times a day.

It felt rewarding to see the results.

Watching him grow so quickly, she felt a strange sense of satisfaction—almost like raising something.

It reminded her of a Tamagotchi she’d played with as a child.

You fed it, washed it, took it for walks.

And when it grew more than twice its original size, pride and fulfillment followed.

That was exactly how she felt looking at Ben now.

A pleased smile naturally spread across Chersinia’s face.

Ben, not understanding why, grinned along with her.

Simply because he liked seeing her smile.

“Chersinia. I’ll bake the bread today.”

As Ben cheerfully headed straight for the kitchen, Chersinia caught him by the back of the neck.

“Nope. Just stay still.”

“What? That makes no sense!”

Count Montene barked angrily at Louis’s absurd report.

Louis looked just as frustrated himself.

“It’s true! There’s not a single person who knows anything about that woman!”

Three days had passed since he’d ordered Louis to find her, yet Louis returned empty-handed, bringing only infuriating news.

Irritated, the count shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa.

Louis bowed deeply and continued.

“The villagers say they’ve only seen her a few times. No one knows where she lives.”

At those words, the count narrowed his sinister eyes.

A woman living without revealing her identity.

She must be hiding something significant.

The count crossed his legs on the sofa, lost in thought.

What exactly was she hiding?

Did she truly possess some strange power, as Louis claimed?

Rubbing his temples as if a headache were coming on, the count grimaced.

Only four days remained until he was to present the slave to Count Enetio.

As Louis said, the woman would definitely return to exchange the money.

But he had no intention of paying her—and no intention of losing the slave either.

If he didn’t pay, she wouldn’t return the slave she’d taken as collateral.

That was why he’d planned to find her whereabouts and deal with her beforehand.

Yet nothing was going according to plan.

Count Montene bit down hard on his lip.

Veins bulged angrily across his clenched fist.

“Send out more men. Find her, no matter what.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Louis bowed and exited the room.

Left alone, Count Montene recalled the fiery red hair he’d glimpsed and the purplish eyes like a setting sun.

“A mysterious woman with secrets…”

Whatever power she possessed, the count vowed that he would not give up a single thing that belonged to him.

“Ugh… p-please… spare me…”

A voice writhing in immense pain echoed in her ears.

“Please…”

At the pleading voice, Chersinia opened her eyes.

She had only been half asleep, so she woke immediately.

It was a dark night, dimly washed in moonlight.

Chersinia pushed herself up, roughly smoothing her tousled hair with one hand.

She naturally sat on the edge of the bed.

On the floor lay Ben, twisting and groaning in distress.

Pale yellow moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating the room.

Thanks to the moonlight, she could clearly see his condition.

Cold sweat beaded across Ben’s forehead.

His face was twisted in agony.

The blanket he’d pulled up to his chin had slipped down to his feet.

It must have fallen as he thrashed in his nightmare.

Chersinia climbed off the bed and sat on the floor to examine him more closely.

She leaned in, closing the distance between their faces.

“Ugh… ngh…”

The lips that curved so beautifully when he smiled were now pale.

They trembled as if he were cold.

She could even hear his teeth chattering faintly.

Without hesitation, she placed her hand over his chest.

She didn’t hesitate.

It was something she’d done repeatedly over the past few days—she was used to it.

A chill seeped into her palm.

This wasn’t a normal body temperature.

His body was so cold it could cool even her perpetually warm hand.

If she left him like this, he’d develop hypothermia.

She needed to transfer heat—quickly.

Closing her eyes, Chersinia focused power at her fingertips.

The pitch-dark room was dyed red by the glow rising from her palm.

Like a sunset, crimson light filled the room.

“Hoo…”

With a short breath, she released the gathered heat all at once into Ben’s body.

The warmth flowed from her hand and was absorbed into him.

The red glow shimmered like heat haze, then vanished in an instant.

The room returned to deep darkness.

She checked Ben’s complexion again.

His lips, which had held a purplish tint, were now softly flushed as usual.

The body heat beneath her hand felt normal again.

Thank goodness.

Chersinia exhaled in relief, her chest rising and falling noticeably.

Ben, too, seemed more comfortable—his furrowed brow relaxed.

But his groans didn’t stop, as though the nightmare continued.

“Please… save me…”

“It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong.”

Her hand moved naturally, still resting on his chest.

Pat, pat.

She soothed him with practiced ease.

It was something she’d done every night since the first day.

Whatever dreams he had, Ben suffered through them every single night.

He even muttered broken pleas for help, like speaking in tongues.

He’d gone into convulsions dozens of times—she hadn’t slept properly since he arrived.

Her irritation never lasted long.

Watching him suffer so much was painful in itself.

She’d tried waking him, but he never opened his eyes easily.

Instead, he sank deeper, trembling and sobbing.

Each time, she shared her warmth with his ice-cold body.

But that wasn’t enough.

To calm his fear, she gently patted him like this.

Then he would quickly fall into a deep, childlike sleep.

Just like now.

His steady breathing seeped into her ears like a lullaby.

He slept peacefully, his face serene.

It was past midnight.

In her old life, she would have been so deeply asleep by now that someone could carry her off without her noticing.

Since the house stood deep in the forest, darkness fell earlier than elsewhere.

The cabin in particular lacked light—once the sun set, it felt almost pitch-black.

If this were her previous life, she’d have stayed up all night staring at her phone.

But this was a novel’s world—no TV, no phone, not even a gas stove. You had to light a hearth just to cook.

At night, there was nothing to do but sleep.

Sleeping was the most efficient way to pass the nights here.

Naturally nocturnal, Chersinia had struggled to fall asleep early for the first few days after possessing this body.

But only for a few days.

Once she adjusted, she’d fall asleep as soon as she lay down after sunset.

She’d settled into a lifestyle worthy of a model child—until Ben arrived.

“You really…”

She wasn’t angry about losing sleep.

She was just worried.

What kind of past had he lived through, to suffer this much every night?

It was probably pain beyond what ordinary people could imagine in a lifetime.

She’d brought him here as collateral—but after watching him writhe in agony every night, how could she send him back to his old life?

It felt unbearably cruel.

But she needed money.

To avoid repeating the miserable death from the original story, her life had to change.

And for that, she needed money—she couldn’t give it up.

Still patting Ben gently, she closed her eyes.

Guilt settled into one corner of her heart.

At least, while he’s here… let him be comfortable.

The outcome wouldn’t change.

To steel herself, Chersinia shook her head lightly and opened her eyes.

It was her way of trying to shake off the guilt.

“Mm…”

Ben smacked his lips, murmuring in his sleep.

Pushing aside her heavy thoughts, Chersinia gazed at his face.

As she examined him closely, her eyes fixed on the corner of his eye.

Moisture shimmered faintly beneath his closed lashes.

Careful not to wake him, she reached out.

Her long, slender fingers brushed gently over his eye.

The gathered tear vanished without a trace.

Taking care of him from head to toe made her feel like his nanny.

The thought amused her, and she let out a quiet chuckle.

This wasn’t why she’d brought him here.

Still, living together wasn’t so bad.

Well—good enough was good enough.

She pulled the blanket lying near his feet and draped it over him.

Ben’s lips curved upward slightly as he clutched the blanket with both hands.

“Mmm…”

His face twitched, though she’d thought he was sleeping soundly.

For a moment, she tensed, wondering if the nightmare had returned.

But his movements were different.

He scrunched his nose and twitched around his eyes, like someone feeling itchy.

What’s wrong?

She watched him carefully.

Then she realized the cause—his bangs had fallen over his eyes.

The hair brushing his face must have tickled him, making him twitch unconsciously.

Chersinia brushed his bangs aside.

His hair settled neatly beneath her fingers.

Messy as it was, it flowed softly through her hand.

It felt like touching silk fabric.

A faintly ticklish sensation crept into her palm.

I should cut his bangs tomorrow.

If it was itchy enough to make him scrunch his nose, it needed trimming.

She’d been bothered by his shaggy hair anyway—this was the perfect excuse.

“Chersinia…?”

At some point, Ben had opened his eyes and was looking at her with clear, innocent pupils.