Chapter 25

Before long, someone knocked three times on Judith’s door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Yes.”

Without even the sound of the latch turning, a figure entered the room like a ghost—silent, steady. He came to a stop a few steps in, standing across from Judith, keeping a careful distance. A tall shadow stretched behind him.

“Why are you just standing there? Sit down.”

Judith tapped the empty seat beside her with a smile, the corners of her eyes curving softly. But the man didn’t move. His sunken gaze was fixed on a single spot.

Judith followed his line of sight, and her cheeks flushed slightly.

“…What are you staring at?”

Her fingers brushed against something.

“Oh. This.”

As soon as she realized what he was looking at, the warmth in her face vanished in an instant.

A bitter feeling started to creep in—but she masked it effortlessly, casually fiddling with the necklace hanging from her neck.

“Tsk. So that’s what it was.”

Judith let out a soft sigh, her red lips twisting with mock disappointment.

“Give it back.”

“Didn’t you give it to me?”

“I told you—I never did.”

“Then buy me one just like it. I want this one, Carlisle.”

Carlisle took in a slow, deep breath. But outwardly, he remained calm—so calm that Judith failed to sense the storm behind the still surface. Emboldened, she pushed further.

“It’s not like you’re going back to her anymore. Why not just give it to me? Better than letting it gather dust.”

“That’s not happening.”

The reply was sharp and final—leaving no room for argument. In other words, he’d rather let it collect dust than let it remain in her hands.

The expression Judith had kept perfectly composed up until now twisted ever so slightly.

The first time she found that necklace, she had been certain it was meant for her. That stunning amethyst, the same shade as her hair… it felt like he had crafted it with her in mind.

But when Carlisle had seen the necklace in her hands, he’d walked straight up to her and snatched it away without hesitation. Only then did she realize—it wasn’t for her.

She still remembered how humiliating and hollow that moment had felt.

Now, with the memory dredged back up, the thrill Judith had been enjoying earlier came crashing down. After a brief silence, she crossed her legs and straightened her posture, pushing her chest out confidently.

“Then go ahead. Take it yourself.”

Like you ever could.

A sly smile tugged at one corner of her lips.

Carlisle had never once laid a hand on her. It was as if she were a plague to be avoided. The only exception had been when he escorted her publicly in front of Aileen.

She was always the one desperate for his attention—always reaching out. If not for that chance encounter with Aileen that day, she might never have even brushed against his fingers.

And that made her angrier than anything. She wanted to crush Aileen completely, and she wanted Carlisle to feel just as helpless and humiliated as she had.

The long purple gem hanging from her neck shimmered in the low light—deliberately exposed.

“If I offer it to you and you still don’t take it, it kind of feels like I have permission to keep it, doesn’t it?”

“This ends here.”

That’s as far as I’ll tolerate.

Though he hadn’t said it aloud, anyone in the room could read the unspoken meaning behind his words.

His gaze locked on Judith’s vivid red eyes like ice—unblinking, unwavering. The air in the room was warm, but it felt like standing in the middle of a snowstorm.

Carlisle was always calm, like a sea on a clear day—but even he had his limits.

And Judith… more than anyone, knew just how terrifying he could become when that line was crossed.

They were right on the edge now. One more step, and everything would snap.

Sensing that, Judith casually unclasped the necklace and set it down on the table, as if nothing had happened.

“Here. Take it.”

Before she could finish her sentence, Carlisle snatched it from the table and tucked it safely into his coat.

Watching him, Judith seethed inside—but kept her expression neutral. Instead, she gestured politely toward the seat again. This, she told herself, was her being generous.

“I have news. Something worth hearing. So please, have a seat.”

Carlisle stared at her, his eyes unreadable, trying to gauge her intent.

Judith met his gaze without flinching.

Finally, Carlisle sat—just barely—at the edge of the chair across from her. Judith uncrossed her legs and shifted her body to face him.

As she moved, her outstretched leg brushed lightly against his. Carlisle leaned back immediately, pulling away.

Her leg hovered briefly in the air, then returned to its place. Clicking her tongue softly in disappointment, Judith began to speak slowly.

“Do you know what Aileen is trying to do right now?”

“……”

“You’re going to be surprised when you hear this.”

“……”

“You’re not fun when you don’t react.”

Despite Judith’s subtle provocation, Carlisle remained calm and unreadable.

It had always been her chasing him. She was used to that, but even in moments like this, his cold indifference felt cruel.

Still, she couldn’t show how she felt. From the beginning, she was the only one who had anything to lose.

Judith forced her expression back into place.

“Aileen.”

Carlisle’s eyes shifted.

“She’s meeting someone.”

Those sharp, guarded eyes always trembled when it came to Aileen.

“Do you want to know who?”

“……”

“It’s someone you know.”

“……”

“Jeron Diar.”

A violent storm brewed behind Carlisle’s otherwise still eyes—fierce enough to drown everything in its path.

A barely noticeable flicker, a raw emotion only Aileen would have recognized. But Judith, blind to that subtle change, continued, watching him carefully, waiting for his composure to finally crack.

“There’s actually another man too, but aside from his face, he’s not worth mentioning. You probably wouldn’t even recognize him. But Jeron… Jeron’s different. You’ve met him. You know him.”

Even without her saying his name, Carlisle already knew.

Jeron Diar.

There was no way he wouldn’t remember. That name had been like a splinter beneath his skin for years—always there, always irritating.

Every time he attended a party with Aileen, Jeron was there. At first, Carlisle didn’t think much of it—any noble could show up at those events.

But then it happened again. And again. Three times, four, five…

Eventually, it was no longer just coincidence.

He started noticing. Jeron’s eyes were always on Aileen.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it at first. But Carlisle was too perceptive not to feel it—especially when it came from another man. The kind of attention Jeron gave her couldn’t be mistaken.

By the time he’d counted more than ten such occasions, Carlisle was sure.

Jeron liked Aileen.

And he hated it. Hated that lingering gaze. Sometimes he’d pull Aileen closer, wrap an arm around her shoulder just to block Jeron’s view. Only then would that gaze finally waver, and Carlisle’s pounding heartbeat would slow.

“I thought you’d be more surprised,” Judith said. “You’re not even reacting.”

“Is that all?”

“Unfortunately. If you want to know more, find out for yourself.”

Carlisle stood without another word.

His towering frame cast a shadow over Judith, swallowing her in silence.

She stared at the dark outline across her arm, then looked up at him with a bitter smile.

“You know… I am your future fiancée, and I’m carrying your child. Don’t you think I deserve at least a hug?”

“Don’t joke.”

“You’re so cold.”

Judith pouted, clearly trying to provoke him again—but Carlisle walked past her without a glance and left the room.

Once outside, he moved fast—almost running. He didn’t stop until he was inside his own room. There, he slid down the wall and collapsed to the floor.

His breath came in short, harsh bursts. After a while, he forced in one deep breath. Then, dragging himself to the table, he took a few sips of water, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small white pill.

He swallowed it with the last of the water, then braced himself on the table, bowing his head.

The only sound in the room was his breathing, slow and uneven.

“…Haa.”

After one final deep breath, he raised his head. The faint shadow at his feet swayed with his unsteady form. He stumbled to the bed and collapsed onto it, raising an arm to cover his eyes.

His strength was fading faster than expected. There was supposed to be more time—but his body was deteriorating quickly. Even painkillers could barely keep the agony at bay.

In a faint, trembling voice, he muttered:

“Of all people…”

The room, already cast in dull gray, slowly darkened.

After lying there for a long while, he finally sat up again and moved to his desk. His sword came into view—silent, unmoving.

The one thing he’d ever truly owned.

Once, he had thought of it as his greatest blessing. It had helped him survive. But now, he realized it might be the very thing dragging him into hell.

He had nothing else. No status, no wealth. But through that sword, he had been able to bring joy to Aileen. And in time, he had earned her heart.

“Carlisle, I really enjoy sparring with you.”

Just seeing the light in her clear, shining eyes had been enough. It filled the hollow inside him with something real.

Aileen had been his happiness. She still was.

Even when pain made him tremble with sweat-soaked agony…
Even when he saw her wounded face after being hurt by his deception…
Even when he offered Judith his arm in a mockery of courtship…
He had only ever thought of Aileen.

Back when he had nothing—no honor, no money—Carlisle never resented his fate. The gods had given him a gift, and through that gift, he could survive.

But when Aileen stirred something in him… when she rippled the still water in his heart…

That was the first time he ever felt sorrow.

She had everything: money, respect, a family who loved her dearly. And he—he couldn’t give her a single thing.

That’s why he made a vow.

To always tell her the truth. No matter what.

It was the one thing he could give. His only promise.

But he broke it.

He shattered it himself.

So now, he had no choice but to bear the full weight of that sin—alone.