🔊 TTS Settings
CHAPTER 76……………..
“Cut me some slack. I won’t tease you about Etisha’s wasting disease.”
“That’s only natural. And you’ll also tell me everything you know.”
“What information?”
“Those noblewomen earlier. Who are they?”
From Marquis Hexion, Larrienne managed to extract information about Countess Montmadre and the other northern nobles.
Power dynamics, weaknesses—enough to be useful. But she could tell he was keeping the truly important pieces hidden.
Lowering her sleeve with an exasperated glare, she said:
“Count yourself lucky today, Buis. And don’t ever think I’ll acknowledge you as a marquis.”
Buis Hexion was as detestable as ever.
He had been when they were young, and he hadn’t changed.
“I still remember you stalking little Tisha.”
“Haha… Etisha was my first love.”
“What a joke. She was the victim of your first perverted hobby.”
“That’s what love is. Don’t worry—I’m in love with another woman now.”
“Then I pity her deeply.”
“My lovely canary. She spread her wings of gold and flew into my arms.”
Marquis Hexion licked the blood from his lips. The dark red streaked across his tongue.
His gaze was at once cruel and strangely pure.
No one but he himself could ever understand what went on in his mind.
“Larrienne Heinz. You too are a woman I find lovable.”
“Buis Hexion. To me, you’re nothing but a filthy pervert.”
Larrienne shoved him aside and walked on.
Meeting him had dried up her tears and cooled her head.
That was enough.
Now… nothing remained.
All she wanted was to do whatever Etisha wished, in whatever way Etisha desired. That alone was everything she wanted.
She felt a current rushing through her body.
Like water flowing along a mountain stream, swift in some places, slower in others.
Mana was a power that existed only for those capable of wielding it—magicians.
Ordinary people could neither use mana nor accumulate it in their bodies.
Yet sometimes, anomalies appeared.
Like patients of wasting disease—unable to use mana, yet cursed with it pooling inside their bodies.
“Ah…”
Etisha slowly opened her eyes. The familiar ceiling greeted her.
Wintel Castle.
Did I faint? How long was I asleep?
The dimness around her suggested it was evening.
She pushed off her blanket, intending to rise, when she felt a gaze watching her.
Turning her head, she found Kaien seated at her bedside, still as a statue.
His presence was heavy.
His black eyes sunk with seriousness, his lips parched.
Who knew what thoughts had passed through his mind as she lay unconscious?
“My lord…?”
When Etisha spoke, his eyes flickered faintly.
“You’re awake, my lady.”
“Yes. I’m sorry, for collapsing so suddenly…”
Kaien only shook his head.
It was not her fault she fainted. It was his—for sending a woman with a terminal illness into the cold outdoors.
“Don’t apologize. Please…”
Watching her collapse had stirred countless emotions and thoughts within him.
Complicated. Despairing. Fearful.
Kaien could no longer deny it: his feelings toward her had changed.
Looking at Etisha now, he felt something far heavier.
Perhaps heavier even than the vengeance he had carried all his life.
Love always conquers hatred. If forced to choose between Rayen Wintel’s death and Etisha Wintel’s life… Kaien knew.
“I was mistaken.”
“…Pardon?”
“Your debut into society—the debutante, all of it must be reconsidered. Your health must come first.”
His words startled her.
She had already resolved to attend the debutante ball.
“No, my lord, I’ll be fine. Today I happened to faint, but until now I’ve been alright. It won’t happen again.”
“You cannot be certain. Even now, your life is slipping away moment by moment.”
“But I…”
Her words trailed off.
Cold reason told her he was right. Her body was a time bomb, ready to erupt at any moment.
Today, she had covered with the excuse of pregnancy—morning sickness—but next time? There was no guarantee such a lie would hold.
“I just…”
Her eyes lowered, bitter.
What was this feeling inside her?
“I wanted to help you, my lord. It made me glad to think I could do something for you. And the debutante…”
“…”
“I suppose I still had regrets, never having had one. Perhaps I grew a little conceited. To make my debut as the Duchess of Wintel—what greater honor could there be? It was all my selfishness.”
Regret weighed on her.
She had thought she’d left the Heinz family with no lingering attachment to life. But clearly, that wasn’t so.
With Kaien, her desires only multiplied.
To know him. To remain by his side. To help him.
“…Very well. I will abide by your judgment.”
Her sigh was soft, but Kaien felt it like a blade to his chest.
Guilt crashed down upon him.
Why had he said such things now—when she had only just awakened from illness?
He hadn’t even offered her the simple comfort of asking if she was alright.
“…”
His brow furrowed, teeth grinding.
Rescinding a decision was unlike him. But this time, he could not hold firm.
“…No. As for the debutante… let us wait and see.”
“My lord?”
“If it is a brief, indoor affair, perhaps. For now, we will monitor your health.”
“…”
“Tell me—how do you feel now? Any discomfort?”
“Yes… I think I’m alright. Just a little thirsty.”
“That’s a relief. I’ll bring water.”
He rose, fetched a pitcher and glass from the table, and poured.
As he handed it over, their hands brushed.
“…”
“…”
Etisha sipped the clear water slowly, glancing at him.
Always cold, expressionless—he rarely betrayed any feeling. She had always wondered what went on in his mind.
But tonight, she thought she glimpsed it.
Is he… worried for me?
When she set the glass down on the nightstand, he reached to take it. Their hands touched again—this time, nearly clasping.
“I’ll take care of it. Please, give me the glass.”
“Ah, thank you.”
His touch was gentle, warm.
Just like his cheek had been—when her lips brushed it.
Oh.
Her breath caught.
Why did that kiss suddenly come to mind?
It was an accident…
She quickly looked away, but the memory would not fade.
Pressed close in the lift, her lips against his cheek—the thoughts swirled.
To shake them off, she blurted out the first thing that came.
“My lord…”
“Yes, my lady.”
“What you said before—that you have no mistress. Was that true?”
“Yes.”
“Then why… why did you accept my proposal? If you had no mistress, you needn’t have married me…”
Kaien paused. He could have concealed the truth, but for some reason, he didn’t want to.
“There were several reasons. But the greatest was revenge. A wedding was the simplest way to lure out my missing father.”
“Ah…”
“To face him, a skilled swordsman, I would need many knights. But assembling such forces risked exposure—and the stigma of treason. So I staged a false marriage, a trap to draw him to Wintel Castle.”
All had gone according to plan.
Rayen Wintel had come to his wedding, been captured, and locked in the dungeon.
Kaien had only to kill him and see his vengeance done. Etisha, terminally ill, would die of wasting disease, leaving nothing behind.
But just before the end, everything had unraveled.
His vengeance unfinished, his thoughts consumed by Etisha.
The order of things reversed.
Etisha mattered more than Rayen.
“I did succeed in capturing him and imprisoning him below.”
“…But you haven’t killed him.”
She recalled the sword at his waist, glimpsed even beneath his cloak.
“Yes. He still lives.”
“…”
“…Curious. I never thought I’d speak of this to anyone, least of all you.”
Not to his adoptive parents, Kailles and Cirrelege. Not even to his loyal aide, Valdefram. He had never told anyone everything.
“It’s alright. I’ll keep your secret safe.”
Etisha smiled gently.
Kaien met her blue eyes and, after a pause, nodded.
It wasn’t secrecy he feared—but he didn’t explain.
“My lady.”
“Yes?”
“May I hold your hand?”
He extended his hand. Without thinking, she placed hers in his.
He clasped her fingers tightly, interlacing them with his.
