"Adjutant Shaw hasn't slept for days working on the munitions seizure, and last night he was up all night interrogating agents. And here I am, resting over a minor injury—I can't sit comfortably with that."
Once those words were out, the men who'd been talking fell silent.
The sharper ones caught on immediately.
The young officer straightened. "Young General, I just remembered—our special unit has a manhunt to carry out. I should take my leave."
The older officer rose as well. "Young General, you should rest properly with that wound. I'll go check with Adjutant Shaw to see if he needs any help."
One by one, they reported their recent assignments, pledged their loyalty, and took their leave in quick succession.
3.
I returned to Victor's room on the third floor.
Mrs. Lambertu hurried over, carrying a tray with a thick double-handled porcelain tureen on it.
"Miss Rose, the Young General ordered us not to disturb your rest, so I haven't dared knock."
She said it so naturally, yet it made me flush scarlet in an instant.
And here I'd been sneaking around trying to get back to the second floor—turns out I was only fooling myself.
Behind Mrs. Lambertu, two young maids carried my clothes from the second floor, hanging them one by one in Victor's wardrobe.
It seemed they'd already received orders to move me into his room entirely.
Standing bare-legged amid the bustle, I felt unbearably awkward. "I can put things away myself. You all go rest."
I wasn't used to having others do things for me—especially not something so intimate.
I hoped they'd leave me alone.
Mrs. Lambertu thoughtfully set out the dishes, her eyes brimming with delight.
She lifted the cover of the tureen, and it seemed she wasn't quite ready to leave.
"It won't take them long to finish. You should eat your breakfast first—don't go hungry."
The standoff was broken by the heavy thud of military boots approaching from the doorway.
That man stopped at the threshold, his voice low. "All of you, out."
The others, regardless of whether they could finish in two or three minutes, immediately dropped what they were doing and filed out with their heads down, not saying a word.
Victor closed the door behind them, took in my outfit, and smiled. "Now you can eat in peace."
When I kept avoiding his gaze, he walked over and turned me by the shoulder.
"Are you not hungry, or do you need me to feed you?"
I'd overestimated myself. I couldn't match his shamelessness. Every time I thought about what had happened in this room, my face burned on its own.
I pulled free of his hand and headed for the wardrobe. "I still want to change first."
"You look fine in what you're wearing." His husky voice floated from behind me.
I naturally couldn't trust a word out of his mouth.
The wardrobe stood open, half-filled with clothes. Victor's wardrobe had little variety—dark military uniforms and suits took up only a small section, while dresses in various colors hung alongside.
I pulled out a smoky-blue dress at random.
My hand brushed against the military uniform next to it, with its six patches.
I was reminded of the second time he'd come to my home, when I'd stripped off his clothes while he was unconscious.
I'd had a good reason, but I'd harbored a little ulterior motive too.
Karma comes around, it seemed.
I dawdled with the dress in hand, wanting to change, but I could feel his gaze burning into my back.
I turned around. Victor had swiveled the desk chair by the window to face the room.
He sat with his long legs casually crossed, watching me, waiting for me to change clothes.
"Don't look at me."
"Fine."
He agreed so readily, his voice carrying a laugh, yet his gaze didn't shift a single degree.
I hadn't realized before just what a rogue he was. I refused to concede. "If you keep staring, I'll have to go change in the guest room on the second floor."
Though I was only being stubborn—I hadn't actually moved a step—he still rose and stepped in front of me.
He stood over me, looking down, a smirk playing on his lips, his expression pure arrogance.
"There's no room for you on the second floor anymore. From now on, you live here, sharing a bed with me."
He was telling me, openly and unmistakably, that there was no retreat.
His hand caught my wrist, pulling me closer. His other hand—the one in the bandage—stroked the small of my back.
He leaned down, his breath warm against my hair.
"Yesterday was my fault. Today you can punish me however you like, but don't move out, okay?"
Last night he'd charged ahead ignoring all my pleas, and today he was teasing me again.
This didn't seem like an apology at all. I naturally couldn't let it go.
I pressed my lips together and looked up through my lashes with as much haughtiness as I could muster. "No. I like the second floor."
At this, he lifted my chin, tilting my face toward his. His lashes swept low, his voice a soft murmur.
"Stop being angry, Rose."
I turned my head to avoid his approaching lips and tried to push him away, but he was immovable as a mountain.
A glint of light flashed through his dark eyes.
He bent, slipped his hands beneath my thighs, and lifted me, pinning my legs around his waist.
My upper body pitched backward. I gasped, "What are you doing?" and instinctively wrapped my arms around his shoulders, keeping myself pressed close, not daring to move.
He seemed to enjoy having me pressed against him, carrying me a few steps just like that.
Finally, I was tossed onto the bed.
"Helping you change clothes."
He descended on me, his large hand slipping beneath my shirt, pulling it up.
I hastily clutched the hem down, panicking. "Don't you have work to do today?"
He held up his bandaged hand as if it explained everything. "I'm injured."
"Adjutant Shaw isn't interrogating prisoners. Don't you need to help?"
"He's not interrogating prisoners."
"What?"
"He went shopping with my sister."
While I was still processing this, Victor yanked open my shirt, pulled my guarding hands away, and pinned them above my head.
His kiss swallowed my protest, his words muffled but clear:
"My sister is buying baby things. She said she'd pick up a set for us too."
Grace said that?
Just thinking about how everyone in the General's Estate—from the eldest Miss down to the kitchen maids—knew about my round-the-clock bedbound exploits...
I wasn't sure I could face living in this house anymore.
Victor wouldn't let me zone out. He devoured me completely.
I regretted it. I should have listened and eaten breakfast first, then changed.
4.
By dusk, Victor had me—limp as a noodle—cradled in his arms, spooning reheated bird's nest porridge into my mouth one bite at a time.
I didn't even have the strength to chew. I swallowed it whole, just trying to survive.
He said, "It's my fault. I've made you too thin."
I whimpered in complaint, "You've been at fault in more ways than one."
Hearing this, he set the bowl aside, pressed me down again, and asked with a smile, "What did you say? I didn't catch that."
It seemed he'd found the perfect way to keep me in line, and he wielded it shamelessly.
"You're the best. Please spare me."
Despair was written all over my face.
Victor said I'd suffered all afternoon for nothing.
If I'd just talked nicely, we could have left ages ago.
I supposed I had it coming, so I simply squeezed my eyes shut and gave up, lying flat.
But then Victor hauled me back up.
He dressed me in the smoky-blue dress I'd chosen, picked up the sash hanging at my sides, and tied a neat, gentle bow at my back.
He pulled me along. "Rose, I owe you a proper date."
My legs were trembling so much I could barely walk. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow has tomorrow's business." He simply scooped me up in his arms.
"I'm a soldier. Whether I'll still be alive tomorrow is uncertain. All I know is, the sooner I do certain things, the more at peace I'll be."
My mouth drew into a line. What was he saying such ominous things for?
"It's just a date. Is it really that important?"
"It is. Extremely important."
Before the date, he took me to the Police Headquarters first.
The Young General showing up at the Sungate Police Headquarters with his fiancée was quite a spectacle.
Commissioner Sterling came out to greet us personally:
"Young General, you're too polite. If Miss Rose needed her household registration, you could have just sent word—we'd have delivered it."
Victor was in high spirits. He brushed it off. "It was on the way."
The registration was simple—just a single sheet of paper. One copy was given to me, and another was filed into the General's Estate's records.
"Miss Rose, what a resolute decision—to give up your French citizenship for the Young General."
I smiled wryly. The rumor that Ouyang Rose came from France had been repeated so many times it had become accepted fact.
Still, it was easier than explaining that I came from a hundred years in the future.
I glanced back at Victor. The corner of his mouth quirked up, as though he'd scored the biggest bargain in the world.
His large hand closed over mine, and we took our leave of Commissioner Sterling.
I held my registration card and murmured, "I'm a citizen of the Republic now."
Victor pulled me close and laughed softly. "You won't be sorry."
He helped me into the car, then instructed the driver to head toward the restaurant for dinner.
Driving past the Chase family's restaurant, I noticed it was dark and shuttered.
"What happened to that restaurant?"
I was puzzled. It had been doing perfectly good business before. Even yesterday, Luna had accompanied her father to social events, showing no signs of a family in decline. There was no reason for them to have packed up so completely overnight.