A tense silence filled the study, saturated with the distinctive scent of books.

Kisa carefully contemplated the words the man standing before her had confessed.

That he needed to become “Seyerd Hilan” because of none other than herself?

‘Because I was repulsed by Bisherk?’

Only then did Kisa realize the reason she had felt an inexplicable aversion to Bisherk Hilan from long ago.

As he said, it was due to her memories of the boy “Bisherk” she had met in her childhood.

The boy who had nonchalantly handed over the corpse of Mustache Jack to the young Kisa.

If it were now, she probably wouldn’t have been shocked enough to lose her memory over such a thing, and she might have taught the boy that it was an insensitive act.

But back then, Kisa was different.

The child who cherished the spotted cat immensely, the child who feared death—the existence that had taken her mother from her—more than necessary, chose to forget rather than accept reality.

‘Now I remember clearly…’

To the immature Kisa at that time, the red-haired boy seemed no different from the evil one who had taken the cat’s life.

She hadn’t been composed enough to judge the given situation objectively.

Once clearly engraved in her heart, the negative emotions had a profound impact on her subconscious even after the memory evaporated.

‘It wasn’t Mother’s attending physician.’

The fundamental reason that made Kisa not welcome red hair was none other than this man.

Thinking that way, it made sense why, among the several red-haired people she had met, Bisherk Hilan drew out the most intense rejection.

And now, this man was saying that because Kisa was like that, his dead younger brother became so.

“I, I…”

Kisa blurted out a trembling voice.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

It didn’t mean she didn’t comprehend the meaning of his words or his thought process.

“Just for that reason, you’ve been impersonating your younger brother who died at your hands all this time? Making your original self a person who died in place of your younger brother?”

Hearing the second reason, she could be certain.

Even the first reason he gave, if she traced back to its origin, Kisa was there at the end of it.

The broken engagement with the princess, wasn’t it ultimately for the purpose of being with Kisa?

That meant, even though he divided it into two reasons, in the end, the reason he chose such an absurd life was solely one.

Kisa. Kisa Vanspelt. None other than herself.

Feeling her mind becoming hazy, Kisa rubbed her temples.

“Is it really because of me? Don’t you have another purpose and are just using me as an excuse? What am I… What in the world am I?”

Kisa had no idea if she was truly worthy enough to make someone abandon the life they had lived so far.

No one she had met in her life had ever placed that much significance on her.

Not her father or younger brother related by blood, nor even her former fiancé whom she had known for over a decade.

However, the man who lived as Bisherk Hilan in the past and now as Seyerd Hilan answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“Because I love you.”

It was as if he was stating an unchanging and self-evident truth of this world, like how the sun rises again and life ends someday.

A shock akin to being hit hard on the head engulfed Kisa.

“Because of love?”

“That’s right.”

“Why do you love me? No, there’s no reason for you to love me.”

“Does love need a logical reason?”

“That’s…”

Kisa was at a loss for words at the unexpectedly sentimental yet, in a way, extremely natural retort.

Pressing herself even more against the wall behind her back, Kisa mumbled as if making an excuse.

“But it’s strange. I don’t know what could have made you love me to that extent.”

Their first meeting as children? The beginning and middle weren’t bad, but the ending was the worst.

The incident that day must have been an unpleasant memory not only for Kisa but also for him.

Despite his kindness in even finding the cat for her, what he got in return was a rejection, with her crying and pushing him away.

After that, the two of them brushed past each other a few times, but Kisa couldn’t even remember the past and avoided Bisherk Hilan every time they met.

Such blatant rejection must have been conveyed to him as well, and it eventually led to the worst result at a banquet hosted by Princess Arta a few years ago.

“You poured wine on my dress, didn’t you? You said it was an accident, but it was clearly intentional.”

Although Bisherk Hilan was evaluated as sharp and cold, there had never been a rumor of him committing such disrespect at a social gathering.

He, who maintained aristocratic etiquette even towards his enemies, made an exception only for Kisa.

“Well, I wasn’t very polite to you either, so I have no intention of criticizing you for that now. But didn’t you dislike me greatly until then?”

“That’s not true. I’m sorry about that day, Kisa.”

However, the person in question shook his head and denied her words.

“I was surprised more than expected, and I regretted it a bit afterward. But what bothered me was not you, but the dress.”

“The dress?”

“Whose gift was the dress you wore that day?”

“Gift…”

Kisa, who had been blinking her eyes for a moment as she delved into the past, stiffened her face.

“Could it be because it was a gift from Daniel? So you deliberately ruined it?”

Instead of answering that question right away, Seyerd raised his hand and gently brushed Kisa’s lips.

It was a careful and gentle touch. But…

“I couldn’t even properly talk to you for nearly ten years, yet you were smiling happily, boasting to others about the gift from that guy who neglected his role as a fiancé.”

In contrast to that, the blatant displeasure and fierce hostility emanating from his baritone voice made Kisa gasp softly.

It was the first time since that day that she had glimpsed his negative emotions so raw.

“No wonder they’re twins, the brothers have the same taste in women as a pair.”

A single sentence casually uttered by the princess who barged into the Hilan mansion a few months ago, looking for Gabriel.

The expression he made at that moment was still etched in Kisa’s mind.

As the memory of that day was revived, Kisa gained a realization.

‘Ah, so that’s how it was.’

Thinking about it now, although she didn’t even realize it herself, Princess Arta had touched upon the essence then.

That the Seyerd she knew was the same person as Bisherk Hilan and that he loved Kisa.

Looking back, there were clues everywhere, but Kisa was too innocent to notice them.

And this man had been watching her like that from a distance.

With a feeling of love or obsession, enough to spill wine on her dress in front of many people.

Suddenly, a chilling sensation swept through her entire body, and her hands naturally trembled slightly.

Noticing Kisa’s state, Seyerd changed the atmosphere in an instant and spoke softly.

“Look at me, Kisa.”

Not having the courage to refuse, Kisa had no choice but to raise her head and meet his gaze.

“Anyway, I’m sorry. Even I think it was incredibly childish back then. But I was very happy that you wore the red dress I gave you not too long ago. You know, when you went to the villa a while back.”

With a gentle smile that Kisa knew well, the man whispered.

“I love you. I love you.”

The words that had once made Kisa’s heart tremble with an indescribable sense of happiness now made her heart tremble with a completely different feeling.

“…I don’t know.”

She muttered, biting her lip.

“How did you come to love me like that? Since when exactly? Was there a trigger for it?”

Seyerd widened his eyes slightly at that question and then smiled faintly.

“I remember mentioning it to you before regarding that.”

“…Before? When was that?”

He paused for a beat and then spoke.

“When we first met, you cried in front of me. After that, from moment to moment, curiosity arose.”

At first, Kisa frowned, not understanding, but soon she realized when he was referring to.

It was that day. The day Kisa, harboring suspicions about him, went on a long trip alone to visit Pabella Monastery and returned.

To Kisa, who appeared with an even greater issue, his childhood diary, rather than resolving her suspicions, Seyerd suddenly kissed her and confessed his love.

Even then, Kisa didn’t know why such a perfect person said he loved her, so she asked for a reason, and Seyerd gave a similar answer.

“For what reason you cried, whether you have stopped those tears now, whether you are still groaning over the same thing, whether your eyes have become sore from crying too much.”

A whimper escaped from Kisa’s mouth.

“Then I found you again, and I wanted to keep watching you by my side.”

No, it wasn’t. The time he had spoken of that day wasn’t the day they reunited at the Royal Library.

It was much longer ago, the day they first met.

It was the story of the day when the young Kisa, who had snuck out of the house to find Mustache Jack, finally returned home crying.

“Finally, I realized that the emotion that makes me like this is love.”