"Mn... Duke sir?"
"Rose?"
Rose stopped twirling her red hair, and then pressed her naked body to the man next to her, as their warmth covered in the white sheets in the soft blankets of the bed. Her little fingers crawled towards the chest of the man beside her, tracing slow circles.
"I didn't drink the pills today."
"What?" Alphonsus' voice was laced with nothing but shock and anger. "Rose, I firmly told you to drink every time I'm here in the capital! What did I tell you? And this day—of all the days you could skip the pills—"
"Why are you getting so angry?" Rose pouted. "It's not like I will destroy your future."
"Rose, listen carefully," the duke says. "I have a wife. I can't hurt her."
Rose's eyes fumed into a scorching glare, but it quickly sobered into a lesser aggressive gaze, a sad smile.
"Is that so?" She asks. "But what if there's life that'll bloom from this night? What if it's a baby boy... or a baby girl?"
"Rose."
