68. I Will Never Die So Easily

2023.12.07.

Yuan Pelliese finally looked up directly at Bollonico Euphris’s face.

Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, maintaining a proper distance, he wore a slightly disheveled short haircut, beneath which his face wore a cold, shadowed smile. It was not his usual artificial, painted-on smile.

Yuan felt a chill run through her at that smile.

She was afraid of a man who so readily admitted, “It was I who poisoned your husband.”

It was a sneer that said, “Even if you find out, nothing will change,” and at the same time, it sounded like a declaration of war: “I’ve come here to kill you now.”

His icy blue eyes slowly swept over her chest and solar plexus, stained with blood.

The severed head belonged to a servant and to Yuan, but he seemed to think it was Clade Euphris’s, so he didn’t appear surprised.

“Don’t trust Bollonico. Don’t get close to him. That’s the only way to prolong your life.”

“Don’t let your ability be discovered. That man is obsessively digging into our family for some reason. The moment he learns about your power, he’ll do anything to exploit you.”

“He’ll promise you gold, treasures, and glory. But what good are they once you’re dead? Even if you survive, you’ll only become his toy. That’s the kind of man he is.”

Her uncle’s voice, urgently warning her until the very end, spun endlessly in Yuan’s mind.

“Look. You can’t run from death any longer.”

Between the swirling, oily voices, Bollonico’s face from that time—laughing so brightly—suddenly flashed into her mind.

“Who said I was running?”

Yuan’s eyes, previously sunk deep like an abyss, suddenly sparkled with light.

I will tear it out by the roots.

I will climb up the tangled, terrifying chain of events and finally cut off its head with my own hands.

I will protect my husband.

I will protect my family.

“I cannot express how delighted I am by your visit, Your Highness Prince Bollonico.”

“It’s unexpected, given your warm welcome. I remember you were quite offended by my rudeness before.”

“…This life, filled only with crises, has grown rather exhausting. Being in Your Highness’s presence feels strangely safe.”

At her words, Bollonico offered her his usual painted-on smile.

Yuan felt her rapidly beating heart gradually calm, as if she were surrounded by a silence in which she stood utterly alone in this world.

Her trembling and fear began to fade.

“That sounds quite pleasant to Bollonico.”

“If I were to ask what Your Highness desires from me, would you answer?”

Bollonico raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Yuan stood firm like a fisherman facing the waves.

“Running away from that dreadful mansion… and fleeing to you. Is that offer still valid?”

“If Bollonico is given an interesting story.”

“….”

“And if you do, Bollonico will tell you what he wants. And that offer—fleeing to me—will remain valid forever. Countess Yuan Pelliese.”

Bollonico spoke with a smile, clearly aware that he held the upper hand in this battle of wills.

Though appearing calm, there was no way he could fail to read the deep fear filling her wide eyes.

His nose tilted upward, far more proudly than it had before her father.

And in that moment—

*Slap!*

A woman’s hand, seemingly too delicate to even crush a bug, struck his cheek with full force.

***

Instantly, a bright red handprint appeared, and his cheek trembled.

‘What on earth just happened to me?’

Bollonico, utterly disbelieving of what had just occurred, stared blankly at the woman who had boldly stepped right up to him, his head still turned.

The woman, expression unchanged, reached slowly toward his cheek—her retaliation already wiped clean from his mind—as if she were both poisoning and curing him.

Yuan’s cold hand settled on Bollonico’s cheek, which had flinched for just an instant.

Yuan absorbed the pain from the stunned prince’s cheek.

The more fiercely the stinging sensation stirred in her own cheek, the more Bollonico’s face turned into that of a fool.

“What an interesting ability.”

Bollonico’s icy blue eyes sparkled white, like a child who had just solved the final puzzle.

It was the first time his eyes had sparkled like that since the day he was told his father had become emperor.

Meeting the gaze of Bollonico, laughing like a child, Yuan smiled faintly.

But inwardly, she vowed with wide, unblinking eyes, as if she would never feel anything again:

“I will erase you from this world—the one who murdered my sister. The one who killed my husband. I will leave this world only after you are gone.”

I will never.

Never die so easily.

***

The exiled prince and his wife boarded a patient’s carriage hastily arranged by Marquis Rev of Mosan.

Yuan, utterly exhausted from confronting Bollonico, had collapsed onto the bed without changing clothes. Thus, this was the first time Clade Euphris and Yuan met since he awoke.

“Do you know who came to visit your wife while you were lying unconscious like this?”

“Eddie Rev! The prince needs rest! Be silent!”

“Prince Bollonico. No matter how hard I try not to suspect… he keeps acting suspiciously. What am I supposed to do? Why did I have to meet Bollonico in your wife’s bedroom, of all places, with a flower basket in hand?”

Clade followed the worried black gaze scanning him and gazed for a long while at the woman hiding secrets behind her face.

Yuan was far quieter than usual.

Her once neatly styled hair was disheveled, and dried blood clung thickly to her disordered blouse, a striking sight.

Had the shock been so great that she hadn’t even changed clothes?

He hadn’t come to the capital just to see her in such a state.

Not to dance with a woman who had revealed her face among the mixed, foul memories of back-alley trash.

Not to push through crowds flocking to enjoy the second day of festivities, as if yesterday’s blood-soaked nightmare had never happened.

The carriage galloped in the opposite direction, leaving behind the grand and magnificent imperial palace.

“I don’t like this carriage.”

Clade broke the silence first.

Yuan, holding tightly to her tattered heart, listened to his low, sinking voice.

“My father, grievously injured, was carried here in this carriage and suffered until he finally passed away.”

His voice, seeping through like gently flowing water, neither trembled nor faltered.

His perfectly composed face, slightly tilted to catch the sunlight streaming through the window, softly glowed. His amethyst-like eyes, as beautifully carved as they were, remained steady, gazing at the splendor outside.

Yuan listened as Clade slowly swam through his wounds and past, letting the words drift toward her.

Closing her eyes, she felt as if falling rain were soaking her.

His soft voice sounded almost like sweet music.

“I managed to exchange a few words with my father at the end, but I never got to hear my mother’s last words. She died of poison while being transported to the capital. Perhaps it was for the best. If I had seen my mother die before my eyes, that image would have haunted me forever as a recurring nightmare.”

“….”

“I’ve lived believing she was still thinking of me until the end. Mother, I’m sorry. But without that belief, I wouldn’t have been able to breathe.”

Why are you suddenly speaking like this?

As if you consider me family too.

As if it’s natural to say such things to me.

As if sharing your pain with me brings you relief.

As if I could somehow comfort you deeply.

“My younger brother, Apollini—I buried him too, but I didn’t see him die. I count that as fortunate. If I had watched Apollini dying before me, I wouldn’t have wanted to live either.”

*Rustle.*

The sound came as Clade folded himself into the bedding he had already placed on the spacious seat.

Yuan finally opened her eyes slowly.

Her gaze caught on Clade’s long, drooping eyelashes, closed as if seeking sleep.

Yuan’s tightly pressed, dry lips cautiously parted only after the sound of hooves had continued for some time.

“…I feel the same way.”

Beneath shadowed eyelashes,

her violet eyes, shimmering like stars or perhaps like sweet, tempting candy, gently came into view.

“I hate snow. My parents died and were brought back home on a snowy day. My sister also returned as a corpse on a snowy day. I never got to hear any last words… from any of the three. I can only remember their faces as corpses. But after hearing Your Highness speak… perhaps it wasn’t such a regretful thing after all. If I had seen my family die before my eyes, it would have been even harder.”

Clade gazed at her for a long while without replying.

Yuan did not avoid his eyes.

Finally, his mouth opened again.

“The snow has fallen unusually heavily this year.”

“….”

“I’ll hire more servants. Whenever it falls, we’ll clear it every day.”

Having said this, Clade quietly closed his eyes.

Unlike his sharply carved, seemingly cold face, his cheeks looked slightly flushed.

Yuan felt a deep pang at his clumsy, brief comfort.

It pierced her heart. Again and again.

Her entire face tingled, and the tip of her nose stung.

It hurt.

‘You comfort me like this… yet the one thing I could offer you, I can no longer say.’

I will not die.

I will never die before you.

Even that one sentence, I can no longer utter.

She crumpled the words she could never speak into her torn heart, again and again.

***

“Did you say something unpleasant to Her Ladyship?”

“Why would I?”

“Her Ladyship doesn’t look well. Could it be because of what happened in the imperial palace?”

“….”

Clade looked down from his office desk at Yuan, who today, as always, joined the procession heading toward the well.

Since returning to the capital, though he was the one who had nearly died from poison, Yuan’s complexion was far worse.

He didn’t ask what had happened because he already knew—without needing to ask—that the delicate, fragile little creature had witnessed her husband being poisoned at what should have been every young girl’s dream: her debutante ball at the imperial palace, and had seen the servant who brought the poison have his head severed and roll across the floor.

Normally, anyone who experienced such a thing would be somewhat depressed afterward.

Clade watched until the supply cart carrying Yuan and the servants vanished into the distance, becoming a mere speck.

“Is she eating properly?”

“She does eat… but not heartily.”

“And work?”

“As Your Highness ordered, Hilley is handling it.”

“And the budget?”

“It’s sufficient. There aren’t many expenses. The only things she buys are books—.”

“Call the tailor and the gem merchant. Hire more gardeners, and pre-select strong men to clear the snow.”

“It’s spring. Snow?”

“This place gets snow every time it gets even slightly cold.”

The steward thought hiring such servants in advance was wasteful, but having long grown generous-hearted from ample warehouse stores—thanks to increased cleaning product profits and higher taxes—he silently nodded.

“…And the conjugal visits.”

“You already know the state of your relationship without asking me. Are you subtly boasting to me, a man without a partner?”

Clade had finally escaped enough from pain that Yuan no longer needed to come to his bedroom every night.

One day had passed easily, and though pain returned from the second day onward, it was bearable.

Now that he wasn’t in pain, he could have asked her to come only two or three times a week.

Yet, though he tolerated those long-forgotten conjugal visits and faced her every night in the bedroom, he didn’t want to tell Yuan—whose pallor had noticeably worsened since their return to the capital—to stay away.

Not because he feared the pain returning, but because that evening time was the only chance he had to see Yuan, who had strangely secluded herself in her room ever since that day.