Love You, Love You Not (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 005
Scáthach stared blankly at the cold water flowing over her grimy hands, then hastily washed her face upon hearing the guard say he’d cut off the water soon. Luckily, thanks to the geothermal warmth, the water didn’t feel as biting as the prison’s stone floor, even though it was cold.
The guard, who usually passed by other prisoners without a glance, stopped briefly behind Scáthach, glanced around suspiciously, then roughly wrapped his hand around her slender waist.
“Hey. Stop pushing me away like that. Be reasonable while I’m still being a gentleman. How about today?”
This was the same guard who’d been leering at her with lustful eyes and secretly demanding she sleep with him when the other guards weren’t looking. Exhausted from three straight sleepless nights and lacking both the will and strength to refuse further, Scáthach still twisted her body away in disgust.
She wanted nothing more than to spit in his loathsome, snickering face, but Scáthach merely sighed and turned away. With neither the strength to defend herself nor anyone to protect her, avoiding conflict seemed the only sensible choice for now.
The guard watched with relish as Scáthach stepped back into her cell, smacking his lips the entire time.
Apparently, there would be no torture today—the interrogator never called for her. Everyone was busy preparing for Duke Blachnatt’s visit, though Scáthach had no way of knowing that.
Leaning against the wall, Scáthach had drifted into a faint, dreamless sleep when the sound of her cell door opening jolted her awake. The guard who’d constantly tormented her entered, his face flushed with excitement.
“Heh heh… Just you wait. Tomorrow, you won’t even be able to walk.”
She didn’t need to think twice. Fully alert in an instant, Scáthach lunged at the guard and sank her teeth into his ear.
“Aaagh!!!”
Whether they’d heard his scream or arrived late by chance, two more guards rushed in moments later.
“What the—?! Hey?! Ogan-?!?”
The cell door stood wide open,
the top of the prisoner’s clothes hung in tatters,
blood smeared thickly around the prisoner’s mouth,
and Ogan lay collapsed on the floor, frothing at the mouth as blood poured from his ear.
Instantly grasping the situation, the guard dragged Ogan out by his legs, cursing under his breath with every foul word he knew.
He’d always suspected Ogan’s sinister gaze would cause trouble one day—but today of all days?! Of all days for this to happen, when the lord himself was coming to visit! Or… had Ogan grown desperate precisely because he knew he’d never get another chance once the lord arrived?
A few minutes after dragging Ogan away, the guard returned and tossed Scáthach a fresh prisoner’s uniform and a damp cloth, pressing a finger to his lips as a silent warning to hold her tongue.
Scáthach offered no reply—she had neither the presence of mind nor the energy to speak.
After wiping away the dried blood crusted around her mouth with the wet cloth the guard had thrown her, she broke into sobs and then simply sat dazedly on her bed.
All she could think was: I want to get out of this hell.
After that, her memories grew patchy and fragmented.
The man she’d thought she’d never see again walked into her cell,
shot the guard who’d tried to humiliate her,
bathed her in warm water,
and then she fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes, the familiar ceiling fresco came into view, and Scáthach let out a hollow chuckle. The furniture had been replaced with simpler pieces, but the fresco depicting a scene from Ebern mythology remained exactly as it was.
Memories from long ago surfaced—the stormy day when thunder and lightning split the sky as her parents argued, the day the Ebern Kingdom fell to the Teshia Empire’s invasion.
She remembered her mother waking her at dawn, tears streaming down her face as she removed her own necklace and placed it around Scáthach’s neck, and how she’d been hurriedly whisked out of the Ebern Royal Palace by soldiers and her nursemaid.
“Just forget. You have to forget if you want to survive,” she’d told herself again and again—but no matter how hard she tried, those old memories always returned as naturally as breathing.
Back then, because the Blachnatt family—the most powerful militarily—refused to send troops, the Ebern Kingdom received no aid from the Farsade Empire, their supposed ally, until it stood on the brink of annihilation. It was true they’d managed to rescue one princess, but calling that “support” felt like a bitter joke.
And yet, afterward, they went to war with the Teshia Empire and seized Lindkoem. So it was no wonder the people of Ebern hated not only Teshia but Farsade as well.
“Tell me. What was your relationship with my father?”
“…We had no relationship at all.”
At her suddenly cold tone, Casar felt intrigued and tilted his lips into a faint, amused smile.
“You had the key to his villa, didn’t you? Were you enjoying secret rendezvous or something?”
“I’ve told you countless times—I didn’t! I received the key just to run an errand.”
Her large eyes gazed at him reproachfully—anyone thinking that looked pretty must be mad.
“…What kind of errand?”
“Delivering medicine. Nobles often prefer not to reveal what medications they’re taking, so sometimes they arrange discreet deliveries like that…”
“Do nurses normally deliver medicine to patients without even knowing what it is?”
His sarcasm was unmistakable, and the woman bit her lower lip slightly before countering.
“And does Your Grace know what kind of medicine your father usually takes?”
Casar briefly pondered how to respond to her surprisingly cute retort. If the doctor’s account was true, then she really was nothing more than an errand girl—no more, no less.
I heard it from your hospital’s director. He claims your director manufactured a drug meant to induce euthanasia and had you deliver it to my father.
She said she didn’t know what it was for—but she likely suspected. That’s why she insisted on meeting in person instead of writing anything down in a letter.
But then…
If that were the case, shouldn’t he release her, now that she was cleared of suspicion? Irritatingly enough, he wasn’t ready to let go of her yet—especially since she still didn’t even remember him. Even if she wasn’t guilty of murder, there was still something suspicious about her.
Casar casually dismissed the facts forming in his mind and gave her a light, easygoing smile.
“Yeah. I don’t know.”
He slowly rose to his feet and walked toward the display cabinet behind her. Watching her eyes follow his movement with childlike curiosity nearly made him laugh.
Suppressing a smile with a short sigh, he opened the humidor, took out a cigar, and offered it to her with a nod. Though she looked puzzled, she accepted it without protest.
“You know how to smoke a cigar?”
She shook her head.
If she didn’t even know how, why did she take it? He wondered—but somehow, he was curious to see her with his cigar between her lips.
He used his cigar cutter to snip off the cap of the cigar she held, lit it evenly with his torch lighter, took a slow drag, then held the glowing tip toward her lips.
Her gaze flickered from the cigar to his face.
When he gave a slight nod, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cautiously brought her lips to the cigar.
“…Slowly. Just hold it in your mouth.”
Obediently, she followed his instructions and drew in the smoke.
Cough, cough.
She broke into a fit of light coughing and tears welled in her eyes. Watching her, he was suddenly overcome by an impulse—he cupped her chin and turned her face toward him.
Noticing his gaze lingering on her lips, she immediately jerked her head away, avoiding his eyes.
“I… I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Didn’t want to do what, exactly?
“…Suit yourself.”
Casar pulled out a handkerchief, handed it to her, and returned to the chair opposite hers. Somehow, watching her struggle while dabbing her eyes and mouth wasn’t unpleasant as he enjoyed his cigar.
“If you had no relationship with him, why did you kill him?”
Scáthach shot him a sharp glare, her tone as cutting as her eyes.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Is that so? Yet you had a firearm in your possession.”
For a moment, Scáthach debated whether to reveal the childhood incident she’d pretended not to remember even in her own thoughts. But she had no other way to explain the gun’s existence.
How else could a commoner like her possibly justify owning a firearm—something even noble young ladies rarely kept in private?
“It’s… something someone left behind long ago.”
Hearing her answer, Casar instantly felt the taste of his cigar turn bitter.
So that cheap, abandoned gun—left almost carelessly in her sickroom back then—she’d kept it all this time. She worked alongside the very doctor who’d drawn his own blood to transfuse her. She’d completely forgotten him, even though he’d brought her flowers every day for days under the pretense of visiting her while she recovered.
Tilting his head slightly, he asked curtly,
“Who left it behind?”
“My memory’s a bit fuzzy… I was pretty badly injured back then.”
“You… you’re not doing this on purpose, are you?”
“On purpose? Doing what?”
Scáthach widened her eyes in feigned innocence, playing dumb.
Even if the Duke saved her life thirteen more times, she’d never feel truly grateful toward him.
After all, he was Blachnatt—the one who’d refused to send troops when Ebern fell, and later seized both Lindkoem and the Ebern Royal Palace.
Seeing how she’d gotten entangled in such an absurd mess, she wondered if she should’ve avoided any dealings with Blachnatt altogether—errands or otherwise.
The Duke let out a hollow laugh and set his half-burned cigar into the ashtray.
“…I’m tired. That’s enough for today.”
As Casar rose to his feet, her large eyes followed him again. Maybe it was because her eyes were so big, but her blinking was so pronounced it caught his attention.
Though right now, for some inexplicable reason, irritation bubbled inside him, and he wasn’t sure he could look at her lovely face without snapping.
“Come here.”
Standing beside the Duke, Scáthach found herself staring blankly at his sleeve garter, perfectly aligned with her eye level.
Because his interrogation had run past his usual bedtime, the servants had already left, making his request for her to help him change clothes seem slightly unreasonable.
Still, she hadn’t planned to flatly refuse. After all, she intended to cooperate as much as possible to get her necklace back.
She hesitated only slightly at the thought that yanking the thin leather sleeve garter wrapped around his firm, muscular forearm too hard might tear it.
The Duke, having unbuttoned his waistcoat entirely, tilted his head down and stared directly at Scáthach.
“When are you going to undo it?”
“Well… do I just… unbuckle it like a regular buckle…?”
Casar gave a light nod, and her slender fingers began fiddling with the buckle.
In truth, unfastening a sleeve garter was hardly difficult—he could easily manage it himself. But… since this woman remembered everyone except him, he was deliberately making things as annoying as possible.
“This is taking forever. Aren’t you a nurse? If I were your patient, I’d be dead by now.”
“I’m worried it might tear. If you were my patient, I’d rip it off without hesitation.”
“Do you even have the strength to tear it?”
“I didn’t mean I’d tear it—I meant your arm is so solid it’s hard to pull the garter!”
Honestly, it was both absurd and endearing how she kept talking back to him just like she used to as a child. The only real difference now was that she no longer recognized him—and that amused him enough to chuckle softly.
“The servants have never torn it once—if it happens now, it’ll be your responsibility.”
Seeing her bite her lower lip with a dissatisfied frown, he knew she was annoyed again. She was probably holding back only because she wanted her necklace back. Either way, she was clearly an entertaining woman to tease.
“Ah! Got it!”
With a triumphant cry, she reached to catch the garter before it fell—but ended up grabbing his forearm with both hands. His body heat, just as she remembered it, seeped through his cool shirt and radiated warmth.
“…Good job.”
He gently ruffled her hair with his free hand, then frowned, caught in a strange, inexplicable feeling as he waited for her to undo the other garter.
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
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I see. So that was why he said he didn’t love her 😭
Now they are best friends hahaha so ezra is end now?
Haaah, can understand the reason for this novel is “love you, love you not” it was so hard for that words to be spoken