Chapter 037
“If not for the position as the lady of Raslet, Iella would have been the Crown Princess.”
As Demian began pacing the room again, he suddenly turned his head sharply. Iswen spoke calmly, even though he could feel his brother’s fierce glare.
“If she had become the Crown Princess, she would have had to live as if she were dead after the rebellion.”
The current Empress, who had ascended to the throne, appeared to be sentimental on the surface but was infinitely cold.
The woman who had spent years holed up sharpening her blades allowed no blemish on her victory.
If Iella had become the Crown Princess, instead of avoiding execution alongside her husband, she would have spent her life unable to even attend public events.
For what purpose had she lived in silence under her father’s rule all this time? That couldn’t happen.
He unconsciously tightened his grip on the pen in his hand. Before ruining the paper, Iswen set the pen down.
He could hear Demian muttering beside him.
“All she has to do is come back to the South, and then…”
Demian wiped his face and looked at his brother.
“Raslet wouldn’t really refuse to send Iella back, would they?”
“Demian.”
The call was a subtle hint to stop indulging in unhelpful fantasies.
Demian understood why Iswen was acting this way. He had enough intelligence to discern rational judgment.
But even though he knew logically that things would likely work out, his anxiety wouldn’t subside.
“No matter how much I think about it, I feel uneasy. The way that guy spoke…”
Demian recalled the conversation he had with the man who looked undeniably like a Northerner, devoid of compassion.
“When you arrive in the North, please return Iella to us.”
With words he had forced out, wanting nothing more than to abandon all pretense, Sioden Raslet had responded coldly.
“If she wants to.”
At that moment, Demian struggled to suppress the urge to grab the man by the throat.
Raslet’s words were nothing but arrogance. Demian gnawed on his lip. It was unseemly behavior, but Iswen, knowing how anxious his brother was, didn’t stop him.
“……Iella will surely want to return, right? Given how they treated her in the North, there’s no way she’d want to stay there.”
Having reasoned logically, Demian suddenly reached an absurd conclusion.
“I think I should go there myself.”
“I’ve written to Raslet. After we receive a reply…”
“Don’t you worry about her at all?”
Demian shouted.
Iswen looked at him, raising one eyebrow. Realizing he had lashed out at the wrong person, Demian wiped his face.
“Sorry, I’m sorry for shouting. You must be just as upset.”
Iswen himself desperately wanted to rush to the North.
The reason he couldn’t was partly because he had to manage the family he had taken over after killing his father, but the most fundamental reason was different.
Demian glanced at the cane leaning against the lord’s desk. The cane, made of silver and sturdy wood, looked new. This was especially noticeable against the backdrop of the solid wood desk, a family heirloom passed down through generations.
Sighing softly, Demian muttered.
“That man might be able to persuade Iella.”
“Demian.”
Iswen called his name again. Demian looked at his brother with his one eye.
“We haven’t been kind to her, but, of course, she might still think we’re better than Raslet, but…”
Soon, Iswen would hear the source of the fear that made his brother so anxious.
“What if she doesn’t come because she doesn’t want to see us…?”
On that point, Iswen couldn’t refute his brother.
He had lost count of how many times he had treated Demian carelessly in the name of securing their future.
A person’s worth is determined by their words and actions.
Iswen questioned whether he had any more value than a stranger Demian might meet on the street.
“I’ll go to the North.”
Iswen frowned at the unchanged conclusion. Demian explained to his brother, who was clearly holding back something he wanted to say.
“I’ll see her face in person and beg on my knees to bring her back. So…”
Unable to finish his sentence, Demian rubbed his face again. Watching his brother in distress, Iswen sighed and gave his permission.
“Fine.”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
It had been several days since Apple had returned.
During that time, I spent all my time in my room. The serving maids came and went, but when anyone other than Apple entered, I lowered the canopy. I still didn’t want to face anyone.
In addition to the maids, there was a doctor who visited once a day.
“My name is Luke Ailac.”
The young doctor, who said he had known Sioden for a long time, was originally his personal physician, having come from the military.
No matter how strained their relationship had been, having lived together for years, I thought I would have at least vaguely recognized the faces of those who had been around Sioden for a long time, but the man was quite unfamiliar.
I soon understood the reason.
“Your Grace rarely became a patient, so I was half out of a job.”
And the man with the drooping green eyes smiled.
Hearing that, I understood why he hadn’t been noticeable. A doctor wouldn’t be constantly at one’s side but would only be seen when needed.
I tried to make a good impression as I asked him.
“May I call you Mr. Ailac?”
“Please call me whatever is comfortable. Of course, Your Grace usually uses my family name when angry…”
I knew how Sioden addressed people when angry. In fact, he often used the family name when calling me.
Yet, as if he couldn’t deny the marriage, he always called me Raslet and not Rowen.
“Ah, and please feel free to use informal speech. If Your Grace were to see, I don’t want to be punished.”
Unable to use informal speech because of his joking manner, but able to use his first name, Luke visited once a day to check on my condition. After taking the medicine he prescribed, I usually slept or lay down. After realizing that the Glasyr died because of me, I was extremely anxious for a couple of days, but now, I wasn’t. I had realized that no matter how much I worried and feared, nothing would change.
Today, Luke came at the appointed time.
As he had for the past few days, he examined me and asked,
“Is there anything bothering you?”
I shook my head.
My recent daily life was like an old lake where not a single stone could be thrown. It was unchanging, like land instead of water. The fact that the stagnant, black depths were rotting was a chronic problem.
A long-stagnant lake turns into a swamp. What sinks beneath the swamp can never be retrieved. I hoped that time would come. I longed for a day when, even if someone stirred my insides violently, nothing would show on the surface.
Luke stared at me intently.
“Your Grace will visit later today.”
He glanced at my expression.
“If you don’t want him to, just tell me.”
Sioden probably instructed him to ask about my wishes.
Shaking my head again, I said,
“He could have come sooner.”
In fact, Sioden had visited once while I was sleeping. When he was told I was asleep, he reportedly left. He hadn’t come again, but perhaps he thought I hadn’t been sleeping but rather avoiding him.
“Well, you’ve been through a lot recently. He probably wanted to give you time to rest.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
It was the truth.
Things might have been different before, but now, it didn’t matter when Sioden came.
When I spent all day thinking about things I couldn’t change on my own, I reached the conclusion that thinking itself was meaningless. This was because no matter what I anticipated or prepared for, it made little difference whether I did or didn’t.
Since the impact I could make was minimal, thinking was too tiring, so I naturally stopped.
Without thinking, any event felt the same.
Luke soon rose from his seat.
“If you need me, please feel free to contact me anytime.”
Then Luke smiled brightly. For someone I’d only met a few days ago, it felt overly friendly. It seemed like an expression designed to convey kindness and gentleness.
Smiling is a common way for people to break awkward situations.
Considering socially acceptable signals, I should have smiled back, but the corners of my mouth wouldn’t lift. Hesitating, I lowered my gaze, and Luke left without lingering. He was a good person.
As Luke had said, before the day ended, a knight’s voice was heard outside the door.
“His Grace has arrived.”
