TNLA 47

Chapter 47

“…So, for the green dress the young lady is trying on, I recommend these shoes.”

The boutique clerk, Yuera, smiled brightly as she presented countless pairs of shoes. Kashien quickly lost interest.

He had given her shoes back only because he didn’t want the soles of her feet to get injured after he’d made it impossible for her to walk on her own. But, in truth, there was no need for her to walk anywhere herself. He much preferred that she only went where he carried her.

Even today—though he’d allowed her to walk inside on her own after she insisted—he had only grown more determined to carry her back, no matter what she said.

“…And as for a hat to go with this…”

But when the clerk began bringing out hats, Kashien’s gaze fixed on one of them.

Noticing his interest, Yuera quickly picked that very hat up and smiled.

“This hat suits her so well, doesn’t it? It’s made with the same fabric as the dress, adding a green accent! And this shade—emerald green—matches the color of her eyes perfectly. It’s as if it was made just for her!”

Yuera gushed as she handed the hat over. Kashien accepted it.

He brushed his fingers along the soft green ribbon tied neatly around the white hat. The smooth satin slipped against his fingertips.

It wasn’t the same hat.

Of course not. The ribbon alone was different. The real one—her ribbon—was carefully stored in his desk drawer.

Still, this hat reminded him of the day he first met her as a child.

That bright smile she’d given him then. The moment when the world first burst into brilliant color.

A faint, rare smile touched his lips.

“I’ll take this hat.”

“How… how did you even get here…”

Her voice trembled as she buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly.

“Why do you keep doing such dangerous things? Why… why, for heaven’s sake…”

Her voice—one he hadn’t heard in so long—was frail and exhausted.

Her face was hidden behind her hands, but Azen slowly stepped toward her. As if touching a fragile bubble that could burst at any second, he gently wrapped his arms around her.

The feel of her body in his arms sent a shiver through him. Her familiar scent, one he had longed for so desperately, seemed to fill the entire room. The warmth pressed against him melted the cold, frozen core that had numbed him all this time.

He had missed her. Wanted to see her. Wanted to hold her.

She was his everything—his world. Time, which had stopped for so long, began to move again. He could finally breathe.

But at the same time, the way her body felt so much thinner than before made his heart ache.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask, Have you been well? or Are you okay? Because he already knew the answers. She wasn’t well. She wasn’t okay.

At first, he held her carefully. But before he knew it, his arms tightened, clutching her desperately—then loosened again when he realized how fragile she’d become.

Looking down at her trembling within his arms, he rubbed her back gently and whispered softly,

“It’s all right.”

He didn’t even know if he was saying it to her or to himself.

“It’s all right, my lady. Everything will be fine.”

“What do you mean, fine? If we’re caught…”

“Then we just won’t get caught.”

She lifted her head to look at him.

“If only it were that simple…”

If it were, things would never have turned out like this. She swallowed the rest of her words.

But Azen understood her unfinished thought. He smiled bitterly and patted her back again. The trembling under his palm slowly subsided.

He wished time could stop.

He wanted to hold her like this forever, to keep comforting her. But time was cruel.

No matter how quickly Madame Foer and Sera helped her change clothes, they couldn’t stay in the fitting room for long.

He had to get to the point.

“What happened to your eyes?”

Arlen suddenly looked up at him, as if remembering something. His hair was still black, but his eyes had turned violet again.

“Oh… there was a way,” he replied, dodging the question with a faint smile.

“What way? I’ve never heard of anyone changing their eye color before. Did you do something dangerous again? No, before that—why are you even here? You know how dangerous this place is.”

“My lady, you’re one to talk…”

He trailed off awkwardly, and she bit her lip, lowering her gaze. Azen gently touched her chin and freed her lip from her teeth with his thumb.

“You’re one to talk. Why did you go to those… bastards? You even abandoned me to do so…”

“…I…”

Arlen couldn’t bring herself to say she’d gone there intending to die.

Azen had risked his life to save her. So had countless people from the Duke’s household. How could she tell him that?

“You told me… you wouldn’t kill me. You said that, remember? That you’d never kill me… Wait…”

Her hands gripped his collar tightly as she looked up at him again. Her lips trembled, and fear clouded her eyes.

“…You knew? You knew you wouldn’t kill me?”

The unexpected question pierced through his chest like a spear.

Azen froze, swallowing hard.

He knew this wasn’t that kind of question.

She wasn’t asking because she suspected he was that man.

And yet, the fear that she might suddenly scream and look at him with disgust and horror—the kind of fear that could haunt him for life—flooded his mind.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t kill you…?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, trembling as if begging for something. Her hands trembled where they clutched his clothes.

“Because…”

But when he started to speak, she looked away—as if afraid of what he might say.

He steadied himself.

Yes. She was afraid. Afraid of the truth that might come from his mouth.

She must have learned that the madman who destroyed Luthernzer had done it for her.

That bastard…

That monster who couldn’t even see her pain—he must have told her everything. And he probably didn’t even realize what he’d done.

Azen remembered seeing her in disguise at the palace not long ago—how deathly pale and thin she’d been. Now he understood why.

He wanted to tell her, No, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. It’s all his.

But her eyes were pleading with him—begging him to say something else, to pretend he didn’t know.

He couldn’t ignore that desperate look.

“…Because you’re the last bloodline of House Luthern.”

He stroked her hair gently as he spoke, struggling to form the words.

“You’re valuable—useful in many ways. They wouldn’t kill you so carelessly.”

Arlen’s eyelids fluttered. Her lips parted slightly, then pressed shut again. She lowered her head and buried her face against his chest.

He couldn’t tell if she was trying to hide her expression or calm herself.

Had his clumsy lie worked? He didn’t know. He just kept stroking her hair, praying she couldn’t hear the pounding of his heart.

He decided to change the subject quickly.

“But, my lady—”

“Yes…?”

Azen leaned down and whispered near her ear,

“Tell me about the secret passage.”

He felt her freeze in his arms.

“I’ve mapped most of the castle’s layout, but the secret passages are passed down only to direct descendants. You have to tell me.”

She slowly lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes, still glistening with tears, met his. Her lips parted slightly before she drew in a deep breath and exhaled.

Her hands released his collar. She looked down at the wrinkles on his clothes, smoothed them out carefully, then stepped back two paces.

For a moment, she swayed, and he instinctively reached out, but she caught herself and stood straight.

His eyes fell unconsciously to her feet. They couldn’t possibly be fine. Yet she stood tall, masking her pain behind a graceful expression.

A faint, painterly smile appeared on her face.

“Azen, I’m fine. I’m doing well. And I’m glad to see you healthy too.”

“My lady, I—”

“I’m really fine, so don’t worry about me. You should flee to another country. You’re free now. Stop risking yourself like this… You know I’d never want you to be in danger. That’s what I came here to tell you today.”

Her voice wavered here and there, but she held her expression firm—calm and resolute.

She must have practiced it over and over before coming.

She did look better than when he’d last seen her disguised as a jeweler. Maybe she’d prepared herself for this moment.

Even so, standing upright on those damaged feet must have been agony.

Noticing his gaze drifting downward, Arlen subtly hid one foot behind the other.

“My foot… I slipped down the stairs once, and it healed wrong…”

Azen let out a soundless, bitter laugh.