Chapter 15

“Ah… Your Highness…”

“Yes, that damned ‘Your Highness.’ Such a consistently unchanging title.”

Killian pressed his brow as if suppressing anger.

After letting out a long sigh, he brought the medicine back to Letricia’s lips.

“Can you take this?”

“What is…”

“Medicine.”

But Letricia shook her head with difficulty, finding it hard to swallow the round pill.

Seeing this, Killian bit down hard again and swallowed the pill himself. Then there was a crunching sound as the pill was broken.

“Open your mouth.”

Killian grabbed Letricia’s small chin, opened it, and pressed his lips against hers.

“Mmph…”

Letricia’s shoulders tensed at the breath entering her mouth.

“Shh.”

With a soothing voice, Killian delved a bit deeper into her small mouth, transferring the crushed medicine before pulling away.

“Haa.”

At a distance where their noses touched.

From that distance, Killian intently studied Letricia’s eyes that weren’t looking at him.

“Letricia.”

“…?”

“What did you call me?”

“Your Highness…”

“No, no. You shouldn’t call me that.”

Pressing his forehead against Letricia’s, Killian slowly closed his eyes.

“I’m your husband.”

In this life too.

And in the past life as well.

* * *

The Empire had various types of magic.

From simple magic engraved in magic stones that anyone could cast, to forbidden magic considered too dangerous.

Their types were countless.

And among these numerous magics, there was one particularly infamous type – magic related to time.

There was once a period when everyone worshipped time magic, enchanted by the allure of controlling time.

But after one magician’s mistake caused an entire ancient kingdom to vanish without a trace overnight, it became essentially an abandoned magic.

Though it continued to exist in documents.

Unless one was insane, no one would attempt something that might tear their body apart at the molecular level with just one wrong formula.

Even if someone wanted to try, it was such high-level magic that unlike other types, no matter how many magic stones were used, it was beyond the dreams of ordinary people unless they were exceptionally great magicians.

And the same was true for Killian. Until a few months ago, that is.

“Do you know what mad things I did to find you?”

With pitch-black eyes.

Killian stared at Letricia, who was breathing heavily.

Her thick pink eyelashes lay neatly closed, perhaps having fallen asleep from the medicine’s effects.

“I had so many things I wanted to ask when we met again. But in this state, I can’t ask anything.”

Killian muttered while brushing back her sweat-soaked hair behind her ear.

Then he twisted the corner of his eye.

A long scar across his calloused palm began leaking light, and letters appeared in the air.

「Don’t forget the contract conditions. You must not reveal that you’ve regressed.」

At this, Killian clenched his fist strongly with displeasure, wrinkling his brow muscles.

The flickering letters in the air scattered like smoke.

“Tsk. How bothersome.”

Killian reached out to drive away the remaining smoke in the carriage.

Creeak.

Opening the stiff window in the carriage door, Killian leaned his head against the wall.

And muttering to himself while recalling memories as clear as yesterday, he said:

“You really are troublesome, Letricia.”

* * *

“I greet you, Your Highness. I am Letricia Charlotte Esta.”

“What? Don’t be a nuisance, move aside.”

“Your Highness, use me. I’ll be your shield to avoid marriage with Lady Luzabek.”

This was their first meeting before the regression, the words Killian had heard from Letricia.

Even in the past life, their relationship wasn’t much different from now.

The only differences were that in the past life, the Kashar War had ended about half a year later than now, and…

That it was Letricia, not Killian, who had proposed the contract marriage.

In any case.

At that time too, Killian had accepted Letricia’s proposal because he needed a justification to refuse the marriage arrangement made by the Empress Dowager.

“What do you want in return for being used by me?”

“A place to stay… for about half a year. I want to rest peacefully somewhere where no one knows me. I don’t want anything more than that. I’ll leave without regrets after half a year, as if I was never here.”

“Fine. But don’t create any situations that would concern me. The moment you cause me even slight trouble, our contract ends.”

Thus Killian took Letricia as his fake Grand Duchess, and their half-year marriage with a predetermined end began.

It was a lukewarm half-year, neither particularly good nor bad.

As promised, Letricia stayed quietly in the Grand Duke’s castle, almost as if she wasn’t there.

Since Killian spent most of his time outside the castle consolidating his forces while the Empress Dowager’s surveillance was relaxed, the two rarely encountered each other.

Sometimes when Killian returned to the castle, they would sit together for meals, and occasionally walk in the garden.

It was always such a repetition of monotonous days.

But at some point, Killian suddenly thought: this monotony might not be so bad.

That it wouldn’t be bad to continue this relationship longer than half a year.

Even Killian himself didn’t know why he had such thoughts.

Just that occasionally, when he thought about Letricia leaving the castle, his mood would turn foul.

And that foul mood hit rock bottom when he belatedly learned that Letricia was terminally ill.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your illness? Were you planning to never tell me if I hadn’t noticed?”

“I didn’t think you needed to know. After all, once the contract period ends, Your Highness and I would be nothing to each other. I didn’t want to trouble you needlessly. …You told me not to be bothersome.”

It was ridiculous.

Because of those few carelessly spoken words that even Killian himself barely remembered, she hadn’t told him she was dying.

It was so ridiculous it made him angry. He wanted to grab Letricia and yell at her that she should have said something.

But Letricia’s expression as she said those words looked so exhausted that Killian couldn’t do anything at the time.

Moreover, around then a major war broke out in the northern region, so Killian left for the campaign almost like he was running away, leaving only the words “wait for me” to Letricia.

He naturally thought she would wait. Because the promised half-year hadn’t ended yet.

So he firmly believed he could talk things through carefully when he returned.

But contrary to his expectations, Letricia left the Grand Duke’s castle while Killian was away on the campaign.

And after much time had passed, on a day of particularly heavy rain, she returned to the castle.

…As a handful of ashes in a small urn.

* * *

Clunk.

As the carriage shook after hitting a stone, Killian opened his eyes.

Emerging from his past reverie, he tilted his head and played with Letricia’s hair.

“My wife is quite heartless. To leave like that without even saying goodbye.”

His touch was persistent as he toyed with her cherry blossom-like hair.

Wrapping the constantly slipping strands around his fingers, Killian lowered his head.

“I told you to wait. What was the rush?”

“…”

Killian gazed intently at the sleeping Letricia’s face.

Unlike the face in his last memory that showed clear signs of illness, her cheeks now held the vitality of peach blossoms.

The wedding ring that had been loose due to weight lost from fighting illness now fit perfectly on Letricia’s smooth finger in this life.

Though their reunion had been delayed because he’d regressed right into the middle of the Kashar War battlefield, seeing these changes made the fact that he had returned to the past feel vividly real.

“Back then, I was planning to apologize to you when I returned from the campaign. To say I was sorry for speaking carelessly. And to tell you there was no need to leave the castle.”

Pausing briefly, Killian released his grip on her hair.

But before letting it completely slip from his grasp, he caught it and pressed his lips to the ends.

In truth, even now Killian didn’t exactly know why his insides twisted when he looked at Letricia.

Love, affection… his feelings seemed somehow too gloomy and messy to be labeled with such sweet emotions that people talked about.

Perhaps it was a twisted possessiveness born from a favored object trying to escape on its own.

Though nothing was certain, at least one thing was clear: he could not tolerate Letricia disappearing from his sight.

Enough to turn back time and find the living Letricia to bind her to his side again.

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Whatever this messy feeling he harbored was, that was something he could figure out slowly.

“We have plenty of time left ahead.”

Screech.

As the shaking carriage came to a stop with a sharp friction sound, Killian slowly lifted Letricia.

Killian’s eyes turned to a man standing against the backdrop of the townhouse visible through the window.

The man was none other than Piril. However quickly Pel had acted, Piril must have arrived at the townhouse quite a while ago, judging by his red nose from the cold weather.

Keeping his gaze fixed on Piril, who was trembling like a small bird in the cold, Killian opened the carriage door.

“Because that doctor will cure your illness.”

Yes. Piril was the doctor who would invent the cure for the disease that took Letricia’s life three years later.