Rosalia — POV
I still can’t believe I actually slept in the arms of my favorite villain.
Even now, walking across the cracked concrete outside the base, the mory hits like a wave.
His warmth.
His scent.
The steady rise and fall of his breathing against ...
I didn’t drool in my sleep... right?
Oh God. What if I did?
"Rosalia, what are you thinking about?"
Liz’s voice cut sharply into my spiral of panic.
"Ah—nothing. Nothing at all."
My response ca out too fast—too defensive.
Liz stepped closer with a bright, teasing smile on her face. Personally, I found her features incredibly handso, especially when she fought. There was sothing wild and fierce in her expression then, the kind of beauty that didn’t need soft curves or gentle eyes to be irresistible.
Today, she was still spattered with dried zombie blood. A sar across her cheek, a dark stain on her jaw. She lifted a cloth, wiping her face casually as if gore were as normal as morning dew.
Right. We’re outside the base.
General Zan had surprised all of us: instead of kicking us out or escalating things, he arranged for us to go out with one of his teams to collect supplies. If anything, he seed determined to push Cassel into a higher position. It was obvious he wanted his n to trust Cassel, to see him as a future leader.
And honestly... it was working.
"Rosalia, why is your face so red? Are you thinking about sothing embarrassing? Haa~"
Liz nudged my side with her elbow, wiggling her brows.
"W–what are you saying? I’m not—!"
I glared at her—only a little, but enough that she smirked like she’d discovered all my secrets.
Which, admittedly, terrified .
Liz then glanced behind dramatically, then raised her voice with deliberate mischief, "Why not? We all know the boss slept in your room last night. We’re adults—we know exactly what that could an..."
She tapped her index fingers together suggestively.
I froze on the spot.
Heat shot up my neck, drowning .
I wanted to bury myself under a mountain of rubble and never erge.
I opened my mouth to tell Liz to stop, but another voice sliced through the air like a blade.
"Liz, stop fooling around and get to work. We’re here on a mission, not for chatting."
Henry.
When I turned, I found him standing there with a look I had never seen on him before—irritation, frustration... and sothing darker. His green eyes, usually so calm and collected, now looked stormy.
What is wrong with this fox today?
"And you—why are you wandering around here and there? Do you want to beco zombie food today?"
"What?"
Henry shot a glare sharp enough to cut stone. "What do you an, ’what’?"
That was it—the last straw.
Sothing in burned hot, rising like a fla.
"What is wrong with you? Why are you yelling at ? Did you forget my abilities? Zombies won’t co near no matter where I go! Why are you trying to pick a fight today? What’s your problem, Henry?"
For a mont, he froze, as if rembering exactly who I was and what I could do. But instead of apologizing, his expression tightened. He looked at even more intensely—too intensely—those green eyes holding sothing I couldn’t place. Anger. Sadness. Confusion.
"What’s my problem? What about you? How can a grown woman sleep in the sa room as a strange man?"
My breath caught.
A strange man?
Cassel?
Was he talking about Cassel?
He’s not... well... not really a stranger.
But—wait, no, that’s not the point.
The actual question is: Why does Henry care?
He is not my father.
Not my brother.
Not my guardian.
So why was he looking at like I’d betrayed him personally?
What business is it of his if I sleep next to a stranger—or ten?
I stepped right toward him, ready to end this ridiculous argunt, because as annoyed as I was, I didn’t want our relationship to collapse into sothing ugly and irreparable. In this world, in this broken, ruined place, the few bonds we managed to form were precious. Henry was important—if not exactly close, then at least soone I trusted to watch my back.
But then another voice cut in—deeper, colder.
"Henry, watch your tone."
Cassel.
He walked out from behind a vehicle, his steps slow, deliberate, sharp. His expression was darker than Henry’s, colder, heavier.
What is wrong with these people?
Did they all wake up on the wrong side of the bed?
Cassel had been outstanding earlier. In fact, he had woken up with a smile so bright it almost startled . Even during the trip, surrounded by zombies, he fought for nearly two hours straight without rest, commanding both our group and General Zan’s team with flawless precision. He’d earned their trust without even trying.
He should be proud.
He should be in a good mood.
So why... why did he look ready to break soone’s neck?
"Henry," Cassel said, voice low enough to vibrate through the air, "don’t forget your place."
"Oh? And what place would that be... boss?"
The sarcastic emphasis made my heart drop.
Henry smiled—but it wasn’t the usual soft, harmless smile. This one was sharp. Dangerous.
It was the first ti I’d ever seen Henry look like that.
And it frightened .
"Henry, what’s wrong—"
"Rosalia, don’t ask him."
Cassel cut off instantly.
"Henry hasn’t been well these days. Don’t push him. Go with Liz and the others to that storefront."
He pointed toward a nearby building.
"There are so won’s items and clothes. Pick a few things for yourselves. I’ll talk to Henry."
I hesitated.
I didn’t want to leave.
I didn’t want to walk away from this without knowing what was going on.
Henry wasn’t the type to act like this—not without a reason.
But Cassel stepped between us as if shielding —his presence large, firm, unmistakably commanding.
A silent ssage:
Go.
It was a n’s talk.
And apparently, I was not allowed to hear it.
Liz tugged on my sleeve gently, urging to follow. Her expression, however, was not her usual cheerful one. There was tension around her eyes, a stiffness in her posture.
Maybe she felt hurt because Henry snapped at her earlier.
"Liz," I said softly as we walked, "don’t be upset. Henry didn’t an it. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood. It’ll be fine after Cassel talks to him."
She glanced at from the corner of her eye—slowly—then let out a dry, almost mocking smile. One that lacked any real humor.
It was the kind of smile people made when they gave up trying to correct a hopeless child.
She shook her head faintly.
"Sotis I envy your ignorance... Sotis it’s infuriating... Sotis it’s comforting."
I stopped walking.
What?
What did that an?
Ignorance?
Comforting?
Why was everyone around suddenly speaking in riddles?
Why couldn’t anyone talk like normal humans?!
I threw my hands in the air, exasperated.
I don’t understand anything!
And honestly, at this point... I truly didn’t.
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