RTGD 76

Chapter 76

Step, step.

Walking a few paces behind Justin, Piril suddenly stopped.

As always, he pushed up his smudged glasses and glanced back.

“What are you doing, lagging behind?”

“But, Sir Justin…”

“What? Don’t call me so seriously all of a sudden.”

“Why isn’t His Highness angry?”

At Piril’s question, Justin froze in his tracks.

Kilian was never one to raise his voice in noisy outbursts like others. His anger was always quiet yet heavy.

Piril had always thought that was Kilian’s way of expressing sorrow.

“Why doesn’t His Highness look sad, then? Am I the only one who feels that way?”

Justin frowned, staring at the hand that had just touched Kilian.

“No, I saw it too. Maybe it’s because it’s been weeks since we last met, but… strangely, my nephew feels unfamiliar.”

Justin caught up to Piril’s side and crossed his arms.

“Did something happen in the capital?”

“Perhaps.”

“Come to think of it, the knights haven’t returned yet, have they?”

Justin craned his neck toward the end of the corridor, where Mark was standing. Mark was trying to comfort Masha, who was shaken by being rejected by Kilian, with Gorten at his side.

“For Kilian’s loyal followers not to be here with him… does that mean the work isn’t finished?”

Justin rubbed at the rough stubble on his chin—he found the texture addictive—while listening to Masha’s wails.

“His Highness—our Highness—how could he look at me like that! Did you see it? As if I were something disgusting!”

“Disgusting? That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?”

“You old man Gorten! Stop poking at me if you’re only going to irritate me!”

“Now, now. What did I do to offend you again…”

It seemed Kilian had acted strangely toward Masha as well.

Like a detective deep in thought, Justin pressed his fingertips to his temple.

“He even treated Masha—who followed him like a grandparent—so coldly. Could it be my nephew is going through puberty late?”

“…Are you serious?”

Through the thick lenses of his glasses, Piril’s incredulous stare shot out.

But Justin only shrugged with a smirk.

“Lady Letricia, please don’t be too upset. His Highness must simply be exhausted.”

Allen stroked Letricia’s arm as she sat absentmindedly, her skin still chilled from the cold air outside.

“Mm!”

Mia, who had been fussing with the fireplace, shook the firewood energetically.

“Upset? I’m fine. Has His Highness eaten?”

“Ah… yes. I heard he ate lightly in his chambers.”

“…I see. Already finished his meal.”

Of course, she wasn’t fine at all.

It felt as though someone had rubbed salt into a wound—aching, stinging.

Bluey hasn’t come either.

Feeling hollow, Letricia swept her hand through the empty air before burrowing under her blankets.

“Are you going to sleep? What about dinner?”

“Just let me be, Allen. I think I’m too tired tonight.”

“But it’s still so early—if you sleep now, you’ll wake in the middle of the night…”

After hesitating, Allen eventually pulled the blanket up over her.

Wanting her to rest more comfortably, he adjusted the bedding and dragged a chair beside the bed.

“You’re not leaving?”

“I’ll go once you’re asleep!”

“Mm!”

Before she knew it, Mia had also brought over a chair and plopped down beside Allen.

Letricia gave a breathy laugh, like a sigh, at their stubbornness.

“Fine, do as you please.”

Turning her back on their watchful gazes, she pulled the blanket up to her eyebrows, shutting out the light.

“I’d prefer if you stepped aside, since I’m tired.”

The memory of that flat, emotionless tone made her heart ache.

Those cold blue eyes, filled with nothing but annoyance—as if she were no different than a pebble in the road—were terrifyingly devoid of warmth.

The sudden change in Kilian made her both sad and, in a way, relieved.

She didn’t know what had caused it, but now Letricia no longer had to be the one to coldly push him away.

Perhaps if Kilian himself withdrew, it would spare him the pain when the inevitable separation came.

Even if what he felt was little more than shallow pity, detached from her own heart.

Maybe it was better for there to be nothing at all.

Yet she couldn’t help the sorrow rising within her.

“I really am fickle. What am I even trying to do…”

Chiding herself, Letricia pressed her face into her old notebook and forced her eyes shut.

She had no real intention of sleeping.

She only wanted to calm her restless thoughts for a moment, then ask about what truly happened in the capital.

But her frail body, so easily drained these days, betrayed her. Drowsiness overcame her despite her will.

She thought she had only closed her eyes for an instant, but when she opened them again, quite some time had passed.

Startled by the damp smell in the air, Letricia pushed back her blanket.

The clock showed that about two hours had gone by.

In the meantime, Allen and Mia were gone, their chairs empty. The curtains had been drawn so the evening light wouldn’t disturb her.

She couldn’t tell the time of day immediately, but the damp wallpaper made it clear the weather had turned foul.

Sure enough, when she pulled back the curtains with her still-heavy body, rain mixed with snow was pelting down.

As the sleet gradually turned to pure rain, Letricia wandered out barefoot, without even thinking to put on slippers, and made her way to Kilian’s room.

Her worry for him outweighed the cold treatment in the courtyard.

Has he taken his sedatives? What if he had another panic attack?

Only after pushing open his door with her muddy feet did it strike her that Kilian might not even be inside.

But fortunately, he was there.

Sitting upright at his desk.

“…?”

Absorbed in something, Kilian tilted his head up crookedly.

“What is this? I didn’t hear a knock.”

His voice scolded her for barging in without permission. As it rang out, thunder cracked and lightning flashed outside.

Backlit, his silhouette looked firm and imposing.

When the blinding light faded, the sleet had turned to heavy rain.

Kilian, chin propped on his hand, sat calmly by the window as raindrops battered against the glass.

There was no trace of sedative scent in the room.

Letricia’s bare feet faltered, retreating toward the threshold.

“You came here for a reason. Are you leaving without saying it?”

“I had something to ask, but… I realized it’s late. Bursting in like this isn’t very polite.”

“You’ve already come in. Isn’t it a little late to worry about manners now? Since you’re here, let’s hear it. What was it you wanted to ask?”

“…”

Letricia gazed quietly at the man before her, whose divine beauty would surely be the last thing she longed for in her final moments.

“Well? Speak.”

“I just… I was wondering why you were so cold to me in the courtyard earlier.”

“Hah? Pfft.”

Kilian chuckled, clutching his stomach as though he’d heard something amusing.

“Ah, my apologies, wife. I must have been too tired to pay you proper attention. Seems I hurt you. Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“No. As you said, I am hurt. I don’t feel like it right now.”

At her refusal, Kilian stepped toward the threshold.

“So you came all this way to complain, only to leave again?”

“Yes. Seeing you face-to-face makes me feel petty. I don’t think we’d have a good conversation now. I’ll come back once I’ve calmed down.”

She bowed her head slightly and turned to leave—until Kilian called out.

“Wife. You dropped this.”

In his hand was the navy notebook she had lost when opening the door.

“You should take better care of your belongings.”

Without hesitation, he held it out. Letricia accepted it.

“…Thank you.”

Then, worried he might stop her again, she quickened her pace with longer strides.

Another flash of lightning illuminated Kilian’s figure leaning against the doorframe.

Catching a glimpse of him, Letricia bit her lip so hard that beads of blood formed.

That’s not… Kilian.

And at that moment, a hand suddenly shot out from behind a pillar and grabbed her.

“…!”