“Where is the princess?”

Sieghart, having returned to the mansion, unknowingly asked about Natasha’s whereabouts.

The complexion of the servants, which he thought was dark due to the bad weather, darkened even more at this simple question. They hesitated, unable to answer easily.

While there were times when they wondered why the duke inquired about his wife’s condition, they had never been this tense before.

Suddenly struck by anxiety, Sieghart urged them.

“If you don’t want to test my worn patience, open your mouths right now.”

“W-well… The duchess suddenly left the mansion a few days ago without a word, and she hasn’t returned.”

Only then did they confess that the duchess had gone missing.

Hasn’t returned?

Sieghart unknowingly looked at the floor. Snow had accumulated on his boots. Outside, the blizzard had been raging all day, making it impossible to discern other sounds.

She left without a word in this situation?

The man immediately went to Natasha’s room. He then thoroughly searched the closet and dressing table to see if anything was missing, but found nothing suspicious.

It didn’t seem like she had sold jewelry to raise money to go to the principality. Given that all the thick coats were still in the closet, it didn’t appear she had just gone out for a while either.

Then where on earth?

“Deploy the Asthart Knights to find the princess.”

“…Pardon?”

“Now!”

He couldn’t ignore the anxiety that had crept up on him. He couldn’t accept the fact that everything else was in its place, but only that woman was gone.

Sieghart ordered the Asthart Duchy’s knights to be deployed to find Natasha.

When the seventh day came, they were finally able to trace the woman’s whereabouts. It was when the blizzard had stopped and the entry ban to Douglass Forest was lifted.

“…Princess?”

The lips that had been pressed together parted slightly. A hollow voice squeezed through the narrow gap.

What was in his arms was not Natasha Asthart, but some rotten fish.

Showing signs of decay.

The surface of the discolored body was even soft. Moreover, it was emitting the characteristic stench of rot.

The clothes, deteriorated in quality and limp, caught his eye. A dirty negligee and blanket, changed into at some unknown time, were all the woman wore that day.

While even the Asthart knights had moved with difficulty in the ominous blizzard, the woman had trudged through the snow field in clothes that were practically naked.

The man unknowingly brought his face close to the woman’s nose. The startled knights tried to stop the duke, but Sieghart maintained his position quietly.

As expected, the woman was not breathing. Not even a shallow breath entered his nose. Only the rotten fishy smell invaded.

It was finally proven.

This woman was dead.

In the end, she left me.

“…Why?”

Wasn’t she a woman who shouldn’t have died?

Wasn’t she a woman he loved and an enemy? Wasn’t she someone he couldn’t kill despite hating her, so he had no choice but to keep her by his side? Wasn’t that why he kept her by his side even after the contract with Kyle Letius was dissolved?

Wishing for her to be unhappy by his side.

Hadn’t she finally ended her life in misery?

“Why… exactly?”

But why does the woman’s death feel so lonely?

Why do I wish this corpse were fake?

Tell me, Sieghart Asthart.

Confess, Enoch Callent…

Despite the desperate wish, there was no confession.

Tisha Winter.

Natasha Charliee.

There was only the sense of loss of having lost that woman.

The man was trapped in a meaningless world. Like citizens who begin to wander when anarchy persists, the man too couldn’t accept the anarchy of his world and wandered here and there.

It felt like being sucked into a huge whirlpool. He couldn’t handle his body being pulled into deep darkness.

Where he fell was not paradise but the ninth hell. There, fragments of disconnected memories floated around.

For example,

‘…Still, I think I can be happy if I’m with Your Excellency. What about you, Sieghart? I’m not the only one having these silly thoughts, am I?’

The image of Tisha Winter, whom he loved in the past.

「I don’t know what I did wrong, or what caused your change of heart, but it’s okay. I’ll be grateful to be able to see you up close, Sieghart.

May the Moon of Asthart have infinite happiness and glory.

Your wife who always loves and supports you.」

The image of Natasha Asthart, who always came close no matter how coldly he rejected her.

“…Ah.”

The man who finished his reverie let out a short sigh. It was a drier response than expected. It was also the first and last sound made by the man who had fallen into the ninth hell.

A sudden mirage pinched Sieghart’s exterior. The heart that he had tried so hard not to acknowledge was forcibly proven by the harsh reality he couldn’t accept.

It didn’t matter if that woman was an enemy. Whether she was Tisha Winter or Natasha Charliee. Whether they shared the same red eyes, Sieghart actually, all of it.

He had wanted to ignore the voices of his family that he heard every day.

To the extent that he wanted to erase the existence of Enoch Callent forever, I, actually, that woman, continuously…

“Loved her.”

The woman was sunlight.

“Actually, it was love.”

I didn’t know when I turned my back, but when I faced it belatedly, it was dazzlingly brilliant light.

“Natasha, I always passionately-.”

Foolishly, Sieghart didn’t know.

He should have realized before pushing that woman into an unfortunate life. He should have noticed earlier that it was a feeling he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he tried to.

He should have prevented Natasha’s death…

‘Didn’t you swear that you didn’t love that woman, young master? Don’t tell me you still loved her?’

‘She’s a woman who will remain a Charliee if she takes off the Asthart name. Loving the enemy is no different from betraying Callent!’

‘That woman’s death was inevitable! She was the daughter of Charliee, our mortal enemy from the beginning!’

For the first time, Sieghart didn’t answer the voices. Because there was no need to answer, no need to follow.

That damned Charliee.

That damned Callent.

What do those single surnames mean to us anyway.

In the end, the fact that both are victims and perpetrators remains unchanged. Both people share the same past and future.

Natasha’s birth, the misfortune that Charliee brought upon him, none of it mattered anymore.

If only I could keep this woman by my side.

Sieghart finally let go of the rope he had been holding. He didn’t linger on the voices of his family fading away as he fell off the cliff. It was time he finally let them go.

“I’ll save you, Natasha.”

Hugging the rotten corpse, Sieghart resolved.

“I’ll somehow save you who let go of me and make you happy, no matter what.”

Somehow, he would bring this woman back.

“Your Excellency, Your Excellency!”

A new voice entered the ears of Sieghart Asthart, who was lost in thought.

‘…Is it the temple?’

Unable to escape from his reminiscence, he lost his way for a moment. Only after seeing Meliana, who had run breathlessly and was slowly exhaling, could the man properly recognize where he was standing.

This was reality, not a recollection.

The last life where Natasha died ten times and started for the eleventh time.

The glorious life where Sieghart Asthart could finally be together with Natasha.

Sieghart nodded in response to Meliana, who was urgently calling him.

“…Y-you need to go somewhere right now.”

The woman’s voice seemed to be consumed by fear at a glance.

The man, detecting something unusual, checked his counterpart and froze. Meliana’s calm and cheerful face was stiff and rigid like stone.

Moreover, she was showing the rudeness of trying to raise the monarch without properly explaining what was happening.

It was clear that something ominous had occurred.

“Could it be about my wife?”

As he asked in a trembling voice.

Meliana also nodded affirmatively while trembling.

The short nod pushed Sieghart into a new emotion. Like a silkworm eating mulberry leaves, slowly and gradually, fear gnawed at the man’s heart.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask what had happened. Fearing that unmanageable words might pour out of the maid’s mouth like a floodgate opening. Fearing that the situation he had been worried about had finally been placed before Sieghart.

He continued the unfinished reminiscence while walking down the corridor.

The man went to the temple and drew the holy sword in front of the Pope. He approached the rock from which he had pulled the sword, struck it down, and cried out to God.

To save the woman. To bring Natasha Asthart back to his side again.

To God’s words that it was impossible to revive someone already dead, Sieghart attempted to negotiate using himself as hostage.

Saying that if the woman wasn’t brought back to life before his eyes, he would take his own life.

Even at the words that the honorable knight who appears only once a century would commit suicide, God paid no heed. He sneered, saying it must be reckless courage, asking if he really had the courage to die.

How much had he gained in this life? Ability, position, honor. Would he turn his back on things that couldn’t be easily refused and choose death?

But this knight was different. Wasn’t he slowly pushing the sword he had brought into his own heart? God was startled by the sword penetrating his chest and agreed to the contract.

However, it wasn’t resurrection, and reviving someone who was already dead was a different story, so the two compromised at a reasonable point.

Regressing both of them to live in a past timeline.

‘It doesn’t matter, just bring her back to life. Until I can apologize to that woman, until I can be forgiven and loved, just make it so that woman doesn’t leave my side.’

He prayed, carrying the hearts of Enoch Callent and Sieghart Asthart.

And he met the woman and started again. Although Natasha might feel it was deception, Sieghart felt this was an opportunity.

To cover my faults and plant our love.

Sieghart stopped in front of the open door. A terrible smell was emanating from the room.

In front of that smell, Sieghart froze. His eyes, staring into the room, hardened like plaster. The precarious appearance seemed to contain a silent scream.

The shadow of death seeped through the distorted muscles. At that moment, the scene of the woman leaving him flashed through his mind.

“Natasha!”

Yes, he had only hoped for our love to be replanted.

Absolutely.

Absolutely, this wasn’t the ending he had wanted.