Ping-.

A thin circular metal slipped through Eugene’s fingers. The coin rolled across the mahogany desk before hitting a small frame and coming to rest.

Eugene tapped his index finger on the number engraved on the coin. As he did so, he cast a blank gaze at the woman in the frame.

A woman exuding flawless elegance despite her expressionless face. A woman who suddenly left behind only divorce papers and disappeared without a trace.

She too, like this coin, once had a time when she rolled.

50 Xants. The money-crazed witch.

That was another name given to Helena when she was Helena Owen. Everyone in the village of Hayer called her that.

They said she would give her nights to anyone from downy-cheeked youngsters to white-haired old men for just 50 Xants.

Of course, Helena was innocent, swearing by the name her late mother had given her.

It all started when she rejected the confession of the second son of Baron Dufont. The disgruntled man must have been the first to spread the rumor.

But, as always, what matters is not the truth. It’s how appetizing the rumor is.

Unfortunately, Helena’s existence was just that.

A pretty lady from a family left with nothing but straw.

Attaching the label of a loose woman to her was sweet enough to roll off many people’s tongues.

“I hear Pepper saw her coming out of Colton’s house last night.”

“Didn’t she work at Smith’s butcher shop until the day before yesterday? That vixen, she couldn’t wait and moved her nest again.”

“Tsk, I wonder when she’ll come to my shop.”

With each change of workplace, the Helena they didn’t know was stripped more and more bare.

Shop owners who had their blatant demands rejected threw their filth at her to cover their shame.

Still, Helena had to endure. With Owen drowning in alcohol and gambling, she was the only one who could earn money for her sickly younger brother Basil’s medicine.

For his sake, it was okay to become a false prostitute talked about in gossip.

It was then that Eugene appeared.

“Are you Helena Owen?”

At a time when Helena had become more accustomed to being called 50 Xants than her real name. Calling her properly by her name.

Six years ago, Eugene returned with news of victory from a long war that everyone thought was hopeless.

Although it was a temporary ceasefire from afar, the kingdom alliance hastily declared defeat before Eugene, who had successively beheaded enemy generals.

He encountered Helena right on that path as he was returning with his shining victory. Eugene willingly drew her into his own ruins.

She was a woman who completely turned his life upside down. She volunteered salvation just by existing. He could boldly declare it a divinely ordained connection.

The sudden death of his father and a life ravaged by long bloodshed. A woman who suddenly dropped right in the middle of it all.

If this wasn’t love, what else could it possibly be called?

So he had to have her. It was a desire that would only end once he possessed her.

His mother Christine’s opposition was fierce, but even she had to lower her tail in the face of the Bohemian king’s encouragement.

The king readily accepted Eugene’s decision. He even put aside the talk of engagement with the princess that he had been quietly trying to promote. He was particularly pleased with Eugene’s declaration to marry for love.

Not because he liked Helena, but because he welcomed Eugene choosing a different path from his friend Aslan Evergail. For Eugene, it was a welcome development regardless of the reason.

“I’ll come again tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, and next week too.”

Eugene confessed a future to Helena, who was like a mayfly.

He exterminated the Dufont family, the source of the rumors, without Helena’s knowledge. He paid off all the debts of the fallen Owen family.

However, he did not put an end to the rumors. He did not search for a doctor to cure Basil’s illness. He did not pretend to be a perfect savior.

‘There must be darkness for light to exist.’

While Eugene felt sorry for her suffering in harsh conditions, he welcomed the things that drove her into the abyss.

The more the ground she stood on continued to break and be cut away, leaving her with nowhere to stand, the easier it would be for her to depend on him.

“Please leave now. And I’d prefer if you didn’t come anymore.”

So that such words of rejection would no longer come out easily.

It was the first time Eugene had been rejected by anyone.

He never dreamed he would experience his most hated first—being naive and imperfect—from a country girl of no consequence.

So she had to be an unforgettable first for him too. She had to be the light he could blindly cling to.

That’s why Eugene decided to completely restore her precious name instead of 50 Xants. By attaching his surname to hers.

“Let’s get married, Helena Evergail.”

Fortunately, and as expected. Though it took some time, Helena became just that.

“I’ll gladly become Helena Evergail.”

When she accepted his proposal, Eugene felt a similar intoxication to when he had let out a victory cry on the battlefield. If he loved, he loved intensely.

After that, much has changed now, the first has become a boring and expected end. The rumors became scandals that eventually ate away at both of them before subsiding.

Of course, Eugene didn’t want to acknowledge or even be aware of it. She was the one who needed to be aware.

Even a jagged stone spits out sand grains when swept by sea winds. It was more nonsensical to think it would always be like the honeymoon period.

‘Don’t make me think the reason lies with me, Helena.’

Just as Natasha had her place, Helena had hers. That was determined from the moment he met her.

That was all.

Helena of Preteria.

A rose blooming between the walls.

Although she was a girl who left before fully blooming, she was a flower etched even more brilliantly because of that.

Twelve-year-old Paul, who lived in the house behind hers, remembered her.

His brother Theo, who had spent a long time with her, would have remembered much more. It was a moment when he keenly felt the loss of his brother who had passed away first.

Still, Paul answered as sincerely as he could to the best of his knowledge. To the man with eyes as big as the large tree at the village entrance and a kind gaze.

He said he had come looking for Helena.

When he heard that she wasn’t in Preteria, his expression hardened a bit, but when Paul informed him that the Owen family had moved to Hayer, he noticeably relaxed.

“Thank you for telling me. Use this to hold a proper funeral for your brother.”

But who would have thought such a stroke of luck would fall from the sky?

The large man left as abruptly as he had come. Paul slowly opened his palm. Five gold coins glittered, out of place on his dirt-stained skin.

“Gasp.”

Sometimes gentlemen passing through the village would give him coins for running errands. But none of them had ever given such heavy yellow coins.

Paul didn’t know what to do and just stomped his feet. Then he entrusted the gold coins to his grandfather standing nearby and quickly chased after Ian.

“Excuse me! Wait a moment!”

Ian and Dion stopped walking. Paul put his hands on his knees and exhaled roughly, then thrust out his fist.

“I’ll, I’ll give you this.”

It was the bouquet he had just placed on his brother’s grave. The stems, clutched too tightly, were wilting.

Paul’s face flushed bright red along with it.

“I’m sorry it’s only this. But it’s the prettiest thing I have…”

His voice became even smaller. His grimy fist didn’t know where to put itself out of embarrassment.

Would this mere flower be worthy for someone who carries gold coins like loose change? Paul reproached himself for his hasty impulse.

Meanwhile, Ian carefully received the bouquet from the boldly extended fist. He brought the bouquet to his face and lightly smelled the flower’s fragrance, then smiled pleasantly.

“Marigold.”

“…Pardon?”

“This flower’s name is marigold. Just as you and I have names, this wildflower also has a name that yearns to be known by someone.”

Ian lowered his gaze to the boy and asked gently.

“What’s your name?”

“P-Paul. Grandpa picked me up from the street, but Theo hyung gave me my name.”

“Theo…?”

Ian’s lips tightened slightly. His gaze became blank as if putting on the brakes at a certain word. As if scanning a certain part of the past.

After a moment of silence, Ian looked down at Paul with deepened eyes.

“…I see. Paul, thank you for the pretty flower. Your grandfather gave your brother a good younger sibling.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Theo must have been happy to have you. Even I can tell, having just met you.”

Ian patted the small head. Paul nodded and went back to the old man.

Dion, who had been watching this from a few steps away, quietly approached and grumbled.

“You’re really, very, extremely kind. Can’t you treat me like that too?”

“I’m not benevolent enough to accompany a servant who talks too much.”

Ian turned away coldly. The gentle face he had shown the child had completely disappeared. Dion, seemingly used to this, casually bowed his head and walked beside him.

“Yes, of course. Silence is golden. I, who have neither gold nor anything else, should keep quiet on my own.”

Ian, withdrawing his glare, took the lead again and walked along the carrot field. He was still tightly holding the wildflower with its crumpled stem.

Dion tilted his head.

‘Why on earth is he keeping that?’

For Dion, crisis detection was a learned ability, but curiosity was a primal whisper that stimulated him. One that ultimately made him take risks.

“But can I really ask just one last thing?”

“If it’s useless, be prepared to be planted upside down next to these carrots.”

Ian’s brow furrowed at the question that had finally entered the tiger’s den. Dion quickly pointed to the wildflower.

“Are you really not going to throw that away? It’s not like it’s rare, they’re all over the place by the roadside… Oh. Wait a minute, don’t tell me… don’t tell me…?”

Dion covered his mouth with his hand as if he had just realized something, expressing his shock. Instead of reprimanding him, Ian softly smiled, creasing the corners of his eyes.

“I think a spot next to the carrots would suit you best after all. You even look alike. Those carrots might have originally been people like you who were cursed and ended up like that.”

Hmm. Even the ‘you’ address is coming out. Time to sound the alarm.

“I apologize.”

“Ah, could you perhaps be the uncle who ran away in the night after emptying his entire fortune when you entered the academy? Why don’t you go and at least say hello? He might jump out with his dirt-covered roots asking why you’ve only come now.”

“I deeply regret my actions.”

“You might still have the fortune you stole then, so dig around well. It would be good to add to the expenses.”

“I must have been temporarily insane.”

“If you understand, get to work.”

“Yes. Dion Cedric, Your Majesty’s faithful servant, will now go prepare to ensure Your Majesty can reach the destination safely.”

The rash servant hurried away with quick steps lest he end up planted upside down in the carrot field. His figure disappeared faster than ever before.

Left alone, Ian blankly looked up at the sky. Gray clouds were gathering as if a heavy rain was about to pour down at any moment.

As he slowly opened his hand that had been clutching the wildflower, a faint floral scent remained on his palm where the sap had stained. Old memories began to naturally intertwine.

“Theo’s grandfather said so. The things I don’t have now but want to have, want, desire. That’s what desire is. So desiring isn’t a sin. It’s natural, isn’t it? To want what you want.”

She was a girl who appeared like a single ray of new light entering. That voice, those nights. He had never forgotten for a moment.

“Trample on all those who put you in this situation, and seize it. Climb to the highest place and let them know. Make it so everyone has no choice but to see you.”

Ian also remembered the girl’s skin that touched the tips of his fingers. It wasn’t a pulse gently engraving itself.

“That I, whom you abandoned, am proudly breathing, living, existing.”

It was a heartbeat that mercilessly devoured and planted itself like a stake.