chapter 12
“Are you planning to play the mute who swallowed honey? Speak. That’s the one thing I’ve always wanted to know. It was the first thing I intended to ask when I caught you.”
“……”
“Of course, I didn’t expect you to apologize and list off all your reasons on your own. But a congratulatory message for my coronation? Ha. Ridiculous.”
Dantes sneered as much as he liked. Rosellina did not waver. Her chest ached, but the barbs in his words were all ones she herself had forged.
Still, she could not be honest either. Not about the moment her heart fluttered at his confession, nor about the times she wondered whether, if she confessed back, they might truly become lovers.
It had been delusion. When Dantes admitted his feelings for her, she could not fully grasp his torment and the weight of his struggle. His confession was raw and earnest—so much so that Rosellina believed it was all the more reason she had to leave. Even if it meant being branded forever as a traitor.
She could never stand beside him. She had no family name, no noble rank. She was neither beautiful like aristocratic ladies nor well-versed in etiquette. Women of noble houses, perfect matches for Dantes, stood lined up in wait. Compared to them, her existence as a woman disguised as a man—his fleeting interest in her—could only ever be fodder for gossip.
Rosellina recalled those days briefly, then pushed the memories away before answering calmly.
“It’s not uncommon for trainee knights to turn to mercenary work.”
“Don’t make me laugh. You were leagues beyond those small fry. Top marks in both practice and theory. Poverty or lack of title wouldn’t have mattered. Because I was there.”
“……”
“Once knighted, you’d have had steady income—far more stable than mercenary work. Maybe even better medical care for your family. Even if not from me, someone else among us would have helped. And above all—”
“……”
“There was no reason it had to be that night.”
“……”
“There was only one possible reason.”
Dantes was about to bring up that night—the rainy night when he had spoken those words. Rosellina shut her eyes, unwilling to recall the moment she most wanted to avoid.
Dantes glared at her resigned expression. To him, it looked like her answer, and it left a deep wound in his heart.
“…So in the end, I disgusted you?”
“Not at all.”
Rosellina refuted him faster than ever before, but that only fueled his temper. He erupted like a volcano, molten words spilling from his mouth. Never before had Dantes lost his composure before anyone. Yet now his fury burst forth uncontrollably.
“Then why!”
“……”
“Why did you leave me? I wanted nothing else—just for you to stay by my side! I only asked that you remain with me!”
Heat poured endlessly from his lips.
“Was that so difficult? I meant it. I had to say it—I couldn’t keep it inside. I never wanted you to run. I trusted you. I believed you, of all people, would stay even after hearing such words!”
After his outburst, Dantes turned away, covering his mouth. He hadn’t meant to expose himself so pitifully. But years of bottled resentment burst forth, his heart heavy with the thought that Rosellina had never truly understood him.
He had spent years mastering the art of politics—hiding his emotions, guiding others to say what he wanted. But what use were such tricks now?
“Even so, even so, I can’t reach you.”
It was suffocating within the palace. That was why he had joined the trainee knights in the first place—to find people he could be genuine with. And in Cesario, Gunter, Marco, and Roberto, he had found them. Those four were the ones he swore to protect with his life.
Among them, his feelings for Roberto were different. Not sexual desire, but something undeniable. A warmth that stirred in his chest, pulling his gaze again and again. He eventually realized it was unlike ordinary friendship. Disturbed and unsettled, he even tried avoiding Roberto—but it was useless.
The Four Musketeers were the only ones he never wanted to deceive. That was why, after much deliberation, he confessed to Roberto. He only wanted to say: This is how I feel about you, but you need not worry. Nothing will change.
He never wanted fleeting emotions to hinder Roberto’s future. That was how he justified it. For Dantes was destined to be emperor. He needed a wise empress, heirs to carry on his line.
From childhood, the match had already been set—the House of Feril. Duke André Feril had long been tied to the imperial family, his family politically shrewd and cautious. His daughter, Demeteria Feril, was by all accounts the foremost candidate for empress.
So it had been even when Dantes was eighteen—the very year Roberto Brida vanished.
That night, in front of the shabby house as rain poured, Dantes had confessed:
“I don’t want to lie to you anymore. So I confess this. But before and after, I will remain your closest friend. So… can you still stay by my side? Even if you’re repulsed, wait, and I’ll become a better friend. I promise.”
He had trembled and shed a few tears as he said it. Roberto gave no answer, only wiped the rain from Dantes’ soaked body with an old cloth, telling him to go home and that he’d answer tomorrow.
But the next day, at the knighting ceremony, Roberto Brida was nowhere to be found.
When they later went to his house, they found nothing. It had always been in ruins, but this time it looked ransacked. His bedridden brother and father were gone too. It was as though someone had cut the family clean out of existence. Including the one person most precious to Dantes.
He had never escaped that day. Even now, he was consumed by it, humiliated by his own childish outbursts, but powerless to stop them.
“Why, why does Roberto Brida make me such a pitiful man? I’ve tried harder than anyone to grow as emperor these past six years… so why?”
Dantes clutched his head. Rosellina, watching, could not speak. Any word would only sound like an excuse.
She had never been good with words. She was not eloquent or talkative. She had always believed it better to remain silent or run away than to attempt clumsy lies. And even now, she believed it true. A poorly spun lie would only wound Dantes further.
“I can’t tell him the truth anyway. Better to stay silent.”
His anger, his resentment—she accepted them. It was what she deserved for her lies. Whether he hated, despised, or cursed her, she could bear it.
But she could not bear to wound him further. If he ever discovered she was a woman, the betrayal he would feel would be far worse. It was better that she take all his blame herself.
Dantes, however, could not stand her silence. Her acceptance of his hatred, her refusal to even resent him for making her a prisoner—it was too much like the Roberto he remembered.
This was why he had wanted Roberto Brida by his side—as knight, as friend, as companion. Even if they could never be lovers, lifelong camaraderie would have been enough.
“I thought you would understand me, Roberto. I believed you would quietly watch over me and walk beside me.”
“……”
“Does your silence mean you admit you betrayed that belief? That you’d rather I go on hating you, punishing you, locking you in chains?”
He laid out the worst choice he could imagine. If Roberto rejected it, he was ready with the alternative: to bring him back to his side, as a loyal knight again.
Perhaps it was all because of that love, left unresolved, never healed. He wanted to sever the cursed bond, to reclaim the knight he had lost through his own mistake.
But Rosellina gave no answer. Their eyes met.
“Just one word, please. Roberto.”
“……”
“Tell me you didn’t betray me.”
All he wanted was that simple answer. But it was the one thing Rosellina could not give. For she was not Roberto.
Looking at him, she finally spoke.
“That night, I ran away. That was betrayal.”
“……”
“I am already a sinner. I confess my crime.”
“Roberto!”
“Do not forgive me, Your Majesty. I will gladly pay for my betrayal with death.”
She knelt, bowing her head. Dantes felt as though his chest would burst, as if Roberto’s hand were squeezing his very heart.
“How—how could you say such things? Just what are you…?”
As Dantes trembled, staring at Roberto, Cesario burst in.
“Dantes!”
“……”
Dantes turned, unable to mask his expression. Cesario glanced between them and spoke urgently.
“We have to go. Gunter’s been ambushed.”
“What?”
“It looks like the Terzes’ work. A hidden bomb.”
At those words, Rosellina rose from where she had been bowing. Dantes shot her one last look, then strode out of the cell. Cesario gave her a regretful glance before following after him.
