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Chapter 17
Although the tone in which he added those words was unusually gentle for Calion, the sarcasm laced within them was as sharp as a finely honed blade.
Startled, Ronin hurriedly spoke.
“N-No…! That’s not…! Cough! Cough!”
Even as a cough tore through him as though his lungs were being ripped apart, Ronin forced himself to think.
He had to understand why Lord Leofric was so angry.
Otherwise, he would be driven out of the North.
And if that happened, he would return to a father colder than the northern winter itself—and be beaten for it.
‘Why would he suddenly say something like that? Marriage… spouse… And he called me his wife… and then…’
His fever-clouded mind finally pieced it together.
‘Ah… that’s it.’
Ronin knew all too well what people expected from an “Alistair.”
Especially what Alphas wanted.
‘Lord Leofric is a rational man. That’s why he’s making this offer even to someone from his enemy’s family. But if I let this chance slip away…’
A rational man would never ask twice.
‘Then this may be my last opportunity. I absolutely can’t disappoint him.’
Having reached that conclusion, Ronin dropped to his knees before Leofric.
Calion, who had remained silent until then, asked as Ronin reached toward his trousers,
“…What do you think you’re doing?”
His voice was colder than ice.
But Ronin, burning with fever, failed to notice the change in Calion’s tone.
“I-I want to… serve my husband. W-We are married, and… cough!… then we should spend… hngh… the night together… cough!”
Another violent fit of coughing stole his breath.
His shoulders trembled with every dry cough.
Barely managing to keep himself from collapsing, Ronin braced himself on both arms.
Even so, the coughing refused to stop.
For quite some time, the only sound filling the room was his relentless coughing.
Calion’s gaze grew even colder.
“You’re practically dying, yet you still manage to think about something like that.”
Ronin Alistair wasn’t in his right mind.
Not physically.
Not mentally, either.
The proof was right before him.
Even while shivering uncontrollably, Ronin still answered,
“B-But… it’s… my duty…. I… have… to….”
His shoulders shook.
His fingertips had turned deathly pale.
Yet with a body in such a pitiful state, he still spoke of duty.
Then again, the nobles of the capital were no different.
They were simply driven by desire.
In the end, what they wanted was the same.
‘They all want the bloodline of Leofric.’
The thought made Ronin Alistair seem utterly revolting.
And yet…
Calion found it difficult to look away.
His eyes lingered on those thin wrists…
On those damp eyelashes…
Ronin’s fever-flushed, exhausted face stirred something else within him.
Calion couldn’t forgive himself for that.
Even if he tried to dismiss it as nothing more than spring stirring natural desires, the self-loathing refused to fade.
His voice became even colder, cutting Ronin off like a blade.
“Hah. You’re no different from a whore. Regrettably, I even pitied you for a moment.”
Only after saying those cruel words did he finally gather enough resolve.
The resolve to leave this room.
Avoiding the pale hand reaching toward the front of his trousers, Calion stepped back and said,
“Ronin Alistair, listen carefully.”
“So long as you don’t become a nuisance to me, I couldn’t care less what you do in this house.”
“I don’t care whose bed you crawl into with that vulgar body.”
“But…”
Ronin held his breath.
Looking directly into those watery eyes clouded by fever, Calion spoke each word clearly.
“Do not expect anything else from me.”
“That is the only thing I ask of this marriage.”
Everyone stood facing the front gate.
They were waiting to welcome an important guest.
At last, a carriage rolled to a stop before the marquis’s residence.
The servants, all trained under strict discipline, lowered their heads in unison.
Otherwise, the disgust and pity on their faces would have been impossible to hide.
Click.
The carriage door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Hair as blazing as fire.
A dress that boldly exposed the upper swell of her chest.
Both had become symbols of who she was.
With a languid expression, she slowly surveyed those gathered before her.
The servants, expertly hiding their disgust.
“My” Alpha, still as handsome and imposing as ever.
And…
The troublesome member of House Alistair.
Jeynar carefully examined Ronin.
‘So they say he’s a Beta… but it doesn’t really show. If anything…’
Her gaze remained fixed on Ronin’s silver hair.
Every ray of sunlight made it shimmer, giving him an almost mystical aura.
It was an elegance Jeynar could never imitate.
Something he had been born with.
‘Even so, I’m the one who claimed this place!’
Without realizing it, Jeynar looked toward the tower.
Richard had told him that Shasha was obediently waiting for her fate at the top of it.
‘Hmph. Foolish woman. That’s exactly why you were abandoned.’
Snorting to himself, Jeynar started toward the marquis’s residence.
He would have continued…
Had something not caught his eye atop the tower.
“W-What is that?”
The tower wasn’t very far from the front gate.
The instant the question left his lips, Jeynar realized who it was.
The barefoot woman standing at the very top…
…was his cousin, Shasha.
Richard recognized his wife as well and shouted,
“Shasha! What are all of you standing around for?! Hurry to the tower and—”
He never finished his sentence.
Shasha had spread both arms wide.
As though she were about to leap.
‘No… Shasha… Surely not… You wouldn’t… There’s no way!’
Richard desperately refused to believe it.
The servants, acting on his orders, sprinted toward the tower.
But none of them could stop her.
Shasha took one final step…
…into empty air.
In that instant…
Time itself seemed to stop.
Before even the crowd’s screams could reach her…
She slowly—
Yet with an unstoppable certainty—
Fell.
The hem of her dress fluttered like flower petals.
Her silver hair scattered brilliantly beneath the sunlight.
‘Ah… Mother…’
Even Ronin found himself captivated by the almost supernatural sight.
The same silver hair as his own.
Something that could never truly be hidden.
The fate bound by blood.
Which meant…
‘My own end will also…’
Thud!
“Gasp!”
A short, ragged breath tore from his throat.
His body jerked upright instinctively, drenched in cold sweat.
Ronin frantically looked around.
An unfamiliar place.
Yet one he already knew.
Leofric Castle.
The place where he would spend the rest of his life.
Not the Alistair estate where that incident had occurred.
“…Haa…”
Only then did the terror ease slightly.
Ronin slowly lay back down.
But sleep refused to come.
Far from feeling sleepy, his heart pounded as though he had just sprinted with all his strength.
Closing his eyes tightly, Ronin trembled.
Behind his closed eyelids, the image of his mother throwing herself from the tower appeared again and again before disappearing.
He felt that if his concentration slipped even for a moment…
The horrific scene that followed would come flooding back as well.
