Chapter 32
Chapter 032. People Whose War Has Not Ended (5)
Rosalyn noticed Sionne raise his sword and quickly stepped in.
But she wasn’t fast enough.
His blade, sweeping in from the side, reached her before her own could touch his neck.
Screeeech.
Instead of aiming for Sionne’s neck, Rosalyn had to block the blade coming at her from the side.
“Kh…!”
It was a clash of strength.
And naturally, the odds weren’t in Rosalyn’s favor. Trying to block a downward strike from below was a losing battle.
“Ugh!”
In a flash, the relentless force knocked Rosalyn’s sword from her hand with ease.
“Haah… haah…”
Neither of them could tell whose breath was whose—they were both panting hard.
“Haa…”
Rosalyn wiped the sweat running into her eyes. The salty sting made them burn.
“I lost.”
She rubbed her eyes and declared her defeat.
But when she opened her eyes again, the tension hadn’t left the air.
Sionne Feitan hadn’t lowered his sword.
The sharp blade was still aimed at her neck, as if ready to slice it open the moment she moved.
“If you bring back the Grand Duke’s head, all your disgrace will be wiped away.”
Staring at the exposed neck before him, Sionne recalled the words he’d heard that afternoon.
“If I cut her down, it’ll all be over.”
It felt like someone was whispering inside his mind.
“The woman lost her memory. Just like she forgot me, she doesn’t know about Merilyn or Anna either.”
Sionne gripped the sword tighter. His trembling hand was laced with a murderous intent.
“Yes. I just need to kill her.”
He forced down the memories rising to the surface.
“What are you doing, Sionne Feitan?”
Rosalyn’s low voice snapped him out of the murderous haze.
“I give you a real sword… and you look like you’re about to cut off my head.”
From the furrowed look in her eyes, Sionne read many emotions.
Anger at a lover who pointed a sword at her neck. Self-blame for lowering her guard so easily.
And sorrow—for someone she trusted.
“Sorrow?”
His stomach twisted with nausea.
The trauma he’d buried deep began clawing to get out.
“Yeah. It’s not time yet.”
Just as Sionne decided to lower his sword, Rosalyn moved first—leaning her neck even closer to the blade.
“If you can kill me, go ahead.”
“!”
Sionne’s shoulder flinched in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to move toward him.
“But you won’t be leaving Anata alive either.”
‘Ha, the nerve.’
Sionne scoffed inwardly at her bravado. It wasn’t very intimidating, especially with her voice trembling like that.
No matter how she acted, he could tell she was afraid of dying.
‘Then again, I’m no different.’
He didn’t really intend to kill her either. His threats were just as empty.
Suddenly, the whole situation felt absurd.
“Outsi—”
Rosalyn noticed Sionne getting lost in thought. Just as she opened her mouth to call for someone—
“I’ll spare you.”
Sionne said it in the most shameless tone.
“What?”
Rosalyn couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh at his magnanimous act of “mercy.”
And in that instant, the blade grazed her neck.
It wasn’t a deep wound, but a bead of blood appeared.
“Be careful. If you move toward the edge, you’ll get cut.”
“You’ve really lost it.”
Rosalyn clenched her teeth, swallowing back the curses that rose in her throat. She knew better than to provoke him now.
“You said to me, ‘Tell me everything about the war,’ remember?”
But Sionne continued calmly, reminding her of her own words.
“I’ll tell you now.”
“What…?”
“Never let your guard down in front of someone holding a sword. Not even if it’s your own lover.”
“……”
“I don’t want Your Grace to be hurt by someone you trust ever again.”
The ruthless Sionne Feitan did not kill the woman. Instead, he chose to reopen her wounds.
As he lowered his sword, his gaze lingered on the scar on Rosalyn’s neck.
“Ah…”
Feeling his eyes on her, Rosalyn instinctively raised a hand to her scar. It stung, hot and raw—was it just her imagination?
‘This scar… was caused by an ally?’
Her heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest. A scream echoed in her ears.
“How many more people have to die before you’re satisfied? The war would end if you just died!”
“If I died, the war would end?”
“Yes! If the Emperor gets your head, then… Aaaagh!”
That furious scream of hatred.
The emptiness that followed, even after the betrayal was revealed.
She had trusted them most of all, and yet she couldn’t even remember their face.
“……”
The memory felt so unreal—like a scene from someone else’s life.
One thing was certain: it felt utterly shitty. Like someone had punched her in the gut—she couldn’t breathe.
‘How could you… you did this to me? I trusted you!’
The memory came back with all the thoughts and emotions that had accompanied it.
Her insides burned, like someone had clawed them raw. No—maybe it would’ve been better if someone actually had.
It hurt. So much that dying might’ve felt easier.
“Damn it.”
A single tear rolled down Rosalyn’s cheek. Her past self hadn’t cried, so she didn’t understand why the tears were falling now.
“…Rosalyn.”
At that moment, Sionne approached her.
“Please don’t cry.”
The very one who made her cry was now trying to comfort her. It was disgusting beyond words.
Sionne cupped Rosalyn’s face with both hands. With his thumbs, he wiped away her tears.
“I went too far. I didn’t mean to say that much.”
But the more he tried to soothe her, the more the tears flowed.
Rosalyn, now struggling with choked sobs, clenched her teeth in a hurry.
Whack!
Then she slapped Sionne’s hands away—hard. She had no intention of letting him off the hook for what he’d done.
Thud!
She raised her leg and drove it into Sionne’s stomach with force.
“Urgh.”
He doubled over from the blow.
Not missing her chance, Rosalyn kicked him in the shoulder next.
Thump.
Sionne dropped to his knees, and Rosalyn climbed onto him without hesitation.
“Kh…!”
She wrapped her arm around his neck and pressed down.
“How dare you… raise a sword at me.”
Her voice was low and cold.
Tears were still falling from her eyes.
“……”
Sionne stared at the droplets rolling down.
Honestly, he was taken aback.
Before she lost her memory, the woman had spoken of that old scar like it was nothing. Yet now, she was crumpled with grief.
‘Why is she crying like this?’
Sionne was bewildered by how much more emotional Rosalyn was than he had expected.
All he’d intended was to throw out some bait—to stir her feelings, just enough for her to connect with him.
But now, things had gone too far.
‘Did I strike too deep a nerve?’
He hadn’t meant to hit a sore spot so precisely. If she ended up rejecting him now, everything would fall apart.
Just as Sionne hurried to speak—
“You seem to be under some delusion…”
Rosalyn growled through clenched teeth.
“I don’t need your pathetic advice. I already don’t trust anyone.”
“……”
“If you ever point a sword at me again…”
Even with her face wet with tears, her expression was terrifying.
“I’ll kill you and hang your body from the gates—”
‘She always says she’ll kill someone when she runs out of things to say.’
A thought flickered through her mind.
A young, mischievous voice. One she’d never hear again.
She couldn’t recall whose it was.
But that voice alone was enough to break her.
“Huuh…”
It felt like her head was going to split open. The rising emotions were impossible to hold back.
Rosalyn curled into herself and burst into tears.
‘Back then, I didn’t cry.’
She had faced everything with indifference.
‘So why… why…’
Why couldn’t she stop crying now? The person she couldn’t remember made her feel such unbearable sorrow and resentment.
“……”
Sionne looked down at the woman who suddenly buried her face into his shoulder.
He didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore. Or how he was supposed to interpret the woman crying in his arms.
He could feel the fabric on his shoulder dampen. He wanted to tell her to move.
But instead—
‘Unbelievable.’
Now she was hiccuping, struggling to breathe properly.
‘What is this, a child?’
Sionne raised his hand and began gently patting Rosalyn’s back. As if he were setting a rhythm for her to follow with her breath.
