24. Pretending to Know Nothing

2023.10.24.

In a way, such a misunderstanding was only natural.

The reason Yuan deliberately approached him closely was to imply that the act of sharing “intimate warmth” wasn’t mere childish play, but meant sharing a bed—something beneficial to her in many ways.

If his last memory had only been someone gently wiping moisture from the corner of his lips, how long would the sensitive Clade continue to believe her?

“Viscount Lancelot and Lord Lancelot have arrived, it seems! They’ve always visited often, but lately even more so.”

Her thoughts were interrupted when the carriage came to a stop right in front of the mansion.

Seeing two black horses—Lancelot’s usual steeds—standing at the entrance, Yuan entered the mansion with slight tension.

Just as she made eye contact with Marquis Rev’s younger brother, who had been conversing with butler Gustav, Yuan awkwardly bent and straightened her knees in a formal bow.

“Oh, madam.”

Brushing back his chestnut-brown hair, Lancelot warmly greeted Yuan.

They had always exchanged only simple greetings, but this was the first time they stood so close, speaking face to face since she had decided to stay in this house.

Unlike Lancelot’s warm welcome, Eddie Rev, the future Marquis Rev with his long hair tied low, merely gave a perfunctory nod and passed by without a word.

Yuan glanced back at Lancelot, surprised by Eddie’s cold reaction, only to find Lancelot himself at a loss.

Lancelot had slightly downturned eyes and a slender face, giving him a bright and gentle appearance. Always neatly dressed with careful attention to detail, he occasionally flashed her a playful smile, yet Yuan never saw him as a frivolous man.

Perhaps it was only natural for a scion of the prestigious Rev family to carry himself so.

“Hmm, the full details will be sent separately in an official document from our household. Madam, you should…”

Lancelot gave familiar instructions to Gustav, then approached Yuan with an awkward expression, scratching the back of his head before stepping aside to let her pass.

“You should go up and see Clade once.”

“Is something the matter?”

Lancelot hesitated, as if debating whether to explain, then suddenly smiled.

“Just now, the master of this house seemed to be asking for you.”

With polite but measured courtesy, Lancelot quickly hurried out of the mansion.

“Madam.”

After handing over the ledger, Gustav, who had become noticeably more respectful, handed something to Yuan.

It was a letter.

The moment Gustav stepped away to supervise the servants unloading the barrels, Yuan opened the envelope with stiff fingers.

Did you truly believe we would never meet again? You foolish, stupid girl…… (omitted)

Selfish and blind to anyone but yourself…… (omitted) Even if you remain in that mansion, I have countless ways to retrieve you…… (omitted)]

Yuan tossed the letter, filled with her uncle’s hasty, jagged handwriting, into the fireplace that had been warming the first floor.

Only after confirming the ashes had completely burned away did Yuan hurriedly climb up to the second floor.

Knocking lightly on the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar, a sharp voice snapped from inside.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me—”

It was a simple reply, but for a moment, she felt uneasy—was it really okay to respond so casually without even stating her name?

For a long while, there was no answer from within.

Hesitating whether she should enter, Yuan cautiously stepped inside.

Contrary to her expectation of finding him lying in bed or slumped in the rocking chair, Clade Euphris stood leaning against the window, arms crossed, gazing outside.

“Where have you been?”

His voice carried a hint of irritation.

Yuan’s eyes naturally drifted toward the golden-sealed, purple-waxed envelope on the table, but she answered first.

“I heard there’s a small chapel nearby.”

“Why?”

Before she could finish, his sharp reply cut through.

“To pray.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say she’d gone to visit Louise.

The entire household remained silent about it, and privately, Yuan hoped to grow closer to Clade and one day ask about her sister—so the guilt was unavoidable.

Fortunately, Clade fixated not on why she went to the chapel, but on something else entirely.

His handsome eyebrows sharply arched upward at the ends.

“Who gave you permission?”

“……”

Countless excuses swirled in her mind, but in the end, she chose to remain silent.

In this household, Clade Euphris was the law.

There was no need to feel hurt.

Clade was a patient.

Anyone who hadn’t tasted his suffering might have fought back against such sensitivity, but having witnessed the pain that gnawed at half his being, she had no desire to resist.

After being told she could stay in this mansion, Yuan had resolved to live with at least a surface-level gratitude toward Clade.

Maintain gratitude, keep a proper distance. And if her sister’s death was indeed his doing, then she would share no attachment, no pain.

“Don’t wander off anywhere without permission.”

She didn’t understand why he acted this way when he clearly didn’t care much, but Yuan obediently nodded.

Even if she asked for permission from now on, she somehow doubted Clade would go out of his way to stop her.

Strangely, she had that feeling.

And yet, she barely knew this man at all.

***

“Please don’t take it too hard, madam.”

As soon as Yuan stepped out of Clade’s bedroom and her tension eased slightly, butler Gustav quietly approached.

His expression was extremely cautious, showing concern as he looked at Yuan’s slightly dejected face.

“What is it?”

“The Imperial Court is expecting a guest soon.”

“What?”

Yuan’s eyes widened in surprise.

Now that she thought about it, the servants who had been carrying water had disappeared, and the first floor was eerily empty.

The few servants must have all gone to clean the guest hall in the annex to prepare for the visitor.

“In three days, His Majesty the Emperor will arrive.”

This time, she was so shocked she had to cover her mouth tightly with both hands.

The Emperor—was none other than Igor Euphris.

A ruthless tyrant who treated human lives like flies, more interested in hunting than state affairs.

And according to rumors, the very man who had reduced Clade to this state, and after the deaths of the late Emperor and Empress, seized Clade’s rightful place and usurped the throne.

“Please understand that if His Highness seems in low spirits or more sensitive than usual, it is only natural.”

So that golden envelope earlier was indeed from the Imperial Court.

That was why he had grown even more sensitive upon hearing the news.

It wasn’t merely due to illness or fatigue.

Yuan, who had just shoved her uncle’s letter into the fireplace, understood him completely.

“I understand.”

Gustav relaxed slightly, his lips loosening into a long line, then hurried back outside to the bustling activity.

Yuan, too, quickened her pace, thinking she should check if there was anything she, as the lady of the house, could help with.

***

That night.

Accustomed to Hena and the maids fussing over her appearance, Yuan dressed lightly and headed toward Clade’s bedroom.

She knocked, but receiving no answer, entered to find Clade slumped in the creaking rocking chair.

Whether Clade himself was aware or not, the process—once rapid, with pain arriving as darkness fell and his body changing—was now gradually slowing.

Yuan quietly approached Clade, who still retained his senses.

Though he must have sensed her presence, the only sound in the room was the creaking of the rocking chair.

Yuan glanced briefly at the unopened, unthrown letter envelope, then stood quietly beside him.

She wanted to say something comforting to him, who seemed especially low in spirits tonight.

Not all uncles or relatives in the world were like that.

Perhaps, in this entire country, no one understood his hatred for the Emperor better than she did.

Just as the one who shared his suffering might be the one who understood it best.

If they were to continue living together like this, couldn’t they at least become a small comfort to each other?

Like how Yuan and Louise, initially awkward as sisters reunited after ten years, had grown closer through mutual comfort, bound by their shared enemy—her uncle and cousins.

“There are so many people in the world who aren’t like family.”

Creak… creak…

“No matter what I say, it probably won’t comfort Your Highness much…”

Creak… creak…

“But now, Your Highness isn’t even in the palace anymore. You’ve built a new family, started a new life…”

Yuan hesitated slightly as she said “new family,” but quickly gathered her courage.

“It might be good to let go a little.”

In the darkness, the rocking chair continued creaking, and a pair of eyes, clear and glassy like transparent marbles, appeared.

But his expression remained sour.

Yuan hastily added,

“Would it be easier if you stopped thinking of him as family?”

“What do you know?”

Silence flowed, so thick that even the creaking sound vanished.

“What do you know? Don’t pretend to understand when you know nothing. Just do what you’re supposed to do.”

“……”

“And don’t wander off alone anywhere.”

Understanding and connection were different things.

For a moment, Yuan stood frozen, as if hit head-on by a great wave.

‘This is nothing.’

Just do your duty.

Her heart ached with the miserable feeling of being abruptly pushed away after reaching out.

But Yuan repeated the mantra she always recited and began preparing herbal tea for him.

Clade stared at the ceiling for a long while, then finally drank the tea down when the steam had faded to white wisps.

His twitching eyebrows confirmed the pain had returned.

Yuan reached out her slender hand and gently wiped a droplet of tea trickling down his neck with her index finger.

Clade flinched—whether from pain or something else—and slowly lowered his gaze from the ceiling to stare at her pale hand.

Just as he might have thought how beautifully the moonlight caught her long lashes.

Yuan slowly leaned down and pressed her lips—not to his cheek, but to the corner of his mouth.

The damp tea droplet and his rough, bark-like skin pressed deeply against her soft lips.

Clade’s eyelashes, trembling faintly, stilled.

The sensation against Yuan’s lips turned smooth and gentle.

Yuan opened her eyes and gazed down at his beautiful face glowing in the moonlight for a long moment.

The silence now held only their breathing, no creaking chair—yet far less tense than before.

Clade Euphris’s perfect face, asleep, looked like an angel fallen from the heavens.

“You have such a pretty face, so why do you always say such unkind things?”

The pain demanding to be cast out pounded inside Yuan’s heart.

Watching the moonlight caress his long lashes and sharp nose, Yuan suppressed the heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Her insides churned slightly.

A strange feeling rose within her.

“Is trying to get along really that unpleasant?”

Yuan firmly pressed her fingers against his forehead, which occasionally furrowed in pain from the lingering agony in his body.

His subtly wrinkled brow smoothed out, and Yuan’s own brow faintly creased.

“You don’t even know whose kindness lets you sleep peacefully. You’re the one pretending to know nothing.”