Idren got up, leaving the man who was no longer moving. Although he wasn’t dead yet, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to just leave him like this.

He took off his damp, blood-stained gloves. The leather, reeking of a fishy smell, was handed over to the knight who approached. The knight had been waiting in an inconspicuous spot.

His wrist ached, perhaps from unconsciously using too much force. As Idren rotated his hand, he turned to look at the knight. The knight was picking up the sword Idren had left on top of the Rohos lord.

As the knight wiped the blood from the blade, Idren asked,

“Where is Ophelia?”

“She is still on the ship, sir.”

It seemed she really intended to return whenever she wanted, as he had told her she could come back late.

Idren pressed his lips tightly together, thinking about who she was with. He regretted not being able to accompany her despite getting permission.

However, he couldn’t show Ophelia anything unclean. Just imagining Taeran Rohos, with his tongue and hands, encountering Ophelia made Idren feel sick to his stomach.

No, even imagining him without those two things was just as disgusting. As Idren wiped his face and neck with a damp handkerchief the knight handed him, he thought he had made the right choice.

Although he had missed the chance to let Ophelia’s friend know she had a husband, hadn’t he taken care of something that would have bothered her in life?

Idren looked down at the blood-soaked handkerchief for a moment before asking the knight,

“Do I look that unpleasant?”

“Aside from smelling a bit of blood, you look fine.”

The dark color of his clothes seemed to hide the blood stains. The knight suggested to him, “Would you like to change clothes with me, sir?”

“It’s fine. Anika Rohos should be arriving about now.”

Since it didn’t seem like Ophelia would return soon, he thought he could take a bath after handling a few things.

Last night, Idren had sent a message to Taeran’s daughter, who was with her mother at a nearby villa. He told her to come on time and settle things, and that he would take care of what she cared about most.

If she didn’t comply, he would have to annihilate the Rohos household, but Idren knew Anika Rohos would accept his offer. In his previous life, the Anika he saw was someone who wouldn’t miss a chance to tear out her father’s throat.

As he expected, Anika said she would come to Rohos Castle on time.

When she arrived, Idren planned to say that a tragedy had befallen the Rohos lord during the hunt.

Of course, his corpse would be in quite an unusual state to say it had been attacked by beasts… but it didn’t matter since the only one to identify the body would be Anika, the lord’s sole child.

Idren patted the neck of his well-behaved horse that had been patiently waiting. He intentionally let Taeran’s horse run away to lend credibility to the story that he had been attacked by beasts.

There were only herbivores in the hunting grounds, but if he said a few wild dogs had entered, that would be enough. Anyway, he was the king. No one would dare contradict what he had seen with his own two eyes.

Even if someone knew it was a lie, they would have to wisely agree in a situation where they should. Anyone who objected in such circumstances would have other intentions and could be dealt with.

After adjusting his soiled clothes, Idren mounted his horse. The knight, who had wrapped Taeran’s body in a prepared cloth, also mounted his horse.

Idren briefly looked around at the surrounding area, feeling the fresh spring in full, and said,

“Let’s return to the castle.”

Ophelia looked at her friend who was saying things she couldn’t understand. Thinking she hadn’t heard properly, Nethefel spoke again.

“Huh? You don’t have to get married. A marriage where you’re sold off like that… you don’t want it either.”

Then he wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. Ophelia realized she was a little annoyed by her friend fiddling with her hair like when they were young. It happened from time to time, but she couldn’t understand why.

She pulled her head back. Immediately understanding what that meant, Nethefel let go.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried about you…”

Trailing off, he lowered his eyes. Ophelia saw his long eyelashes tremble. It was the same pitiful expression he occasionally showed in their childhood.

She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to address what needed to be addressed. Shifting her body slightly back, Ophelia faced her friend.

“Nethefel, do you not know who I’m engaged to?”

“No, I know very well.”

“Then why are you saying such things?”

Ophelia truly couldn’t understand why he said that. The Nethefel she knew was very cautious and careful.

Yet he was saying such things while knowing who she was engaged to.

Had she been wrong about his personality? Sighing softly, Ophelia explained the situation to her dispirited old friend.

“Do you think there’s anywhere in the world you can run from the High King of Aglante?”

Even if such a place existed, she had no intention of going.

First of all, she had never forgotten what Idren said at the Leden palace – that if she didn’t take revenge, he would support Mahanas and Leden so they wouldn’t be ruined. Moreover, running away didn’t suit her temperament.

Furthermore, if she disappeared, Idren might… cry.

Ophelia recalled the warmth that enveloped her shoulders yesterday. Idren was a man who thanked her when she had done nothing for him. He was also narrow-minded, capricious, and often sulked, but that was beside the point.

She didn’t have any special feelings for him, but Ophelia didn’t want to make Idren cry. Anyone would feel reluctant to make a man with such large eyes shed tears.

It was better to endure three years than do that.

There wasn’t much else to do anyway. If she slept and ate well, she felt she would gain the strength to pay him back once more.

Ophelia decided to bury the fact that until a few days ago, she had wanted to treat Idren very cruelly.

She was very tired then. Thoughts while exhausted tended to be more irritable than usual.

But soon Ophelia realized her way of thinking at that time had little to do with fatigue. Since the Rakmata family left Leden, she had lived while converting most emotional games into useless things.

She furrowed her brow at the fact she hadn’t been aware of. However, Nethefel spoke up before she could dig into the truth.

Still looking down, he said in a slightly subdued voice,

“I have an island I own. If you change your hair color and stay there for a few months…”

“Nethefel.”

Before her friend could say something even more foolish, Ophelia cut him off and acknowledged she had been wrong about him. At least the Nethefel before she got married seemed quite naive.

“Stop talking nonsense. I told you I’m already engaged, didn’t I?”

“But Ophelia, that wasn’t your will.”

It sounded like he was grasping at straws.

Ophelia tilted her head. In the first place, when had anything in her life gone according to her will for him to say such a thing?

She was fed up with him continuing to say similar things. Ophelia suppressed the irritation welling up inside her. Without realizing it, her voice came out pointedly as she spoke.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Perhaps reading the displeasure seeping through, Nethefel immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry if I offended you. I was just worried you would live unhappily, so…”

Unable to finish his sentence, the image of the boy who used to be very mindful overlapped with his figure as he inhaled. Ophelia sighed again. She spoke in a softened voice.

“I won’t be unhappy, so you don’t need to worry.”

It was a credible statement based on her experience from her previous life.

The three years of married life weren’t happy, but that didn’t mean they were unhappy.

Idren was a husband who maintained an appropriate line in all areas. Except for a few recent instances, Ophelia had never had any complaints about him.

Furthermore, the reason she wasn’t happy was simply because that’s the kind of person she was.

After losing Haslen, Ophelia gave up on happiness. No matter what, she couldn’t forget the head falling at the execution ground.

Ophelia was reminded that the current Nethefel didn’t know her married life would be uneventful.

Perhaps in her previous life, the reason he was quiet was because he saw her and Idren getting along well.

Understanding that her future husband might be unfamiliar to her friend, Ophelia added an explanation.

“Idren isn’t a bad person. He’s kind, quiet-”

Then she faltered. Her recent impression of Idren didn’t really match the last word.

But she couldn’t take back the words she had already uttered, so Ophelia continued.

“-dignified, and diligent.”

Ah, and he’s handsome and wealthy too.

Those were things she had almost forgotten.

After listing the other person’s good points, Ophelia hoped all of this could reassure Nethefel.

Having recited it all, Idren seemed like a pretty good husband candidate. If Nethefel said he was marrying a woman like this, she wouldn’t be worried.

However, her friend, who had been listening to her words, suddenly said something completely out of context.

“…Do you love him?”

It was such an absurd question that she was at a loss for words.

Ophelia stared at her friend with her mouth open, unable to understand how that question was relevant here.

Love? Why was he bringing that up now?

She had never placed Idren anywhere near such an emotion.

Flustered by the out-of-the-blue and even embarrassing question, she couldn’t continue speaking. Nethefel seemed to have gravely misunderstood.

He abruptly raised his head. Ophelia could see a faint hint of moisture in his red eyes.

With an expression like that of a wounded person, Nethefel said,

“I thought you loved Haslen.”