131. I Understand You

2024.02.08.

Clade Euphris’s sharp, perceptive eyes were fixed directly on Yuan.

His low voice wasn’t the kind of anger spat out from betrayal.

It was like the voice one uses toward someone who has knocked on their door thousands of times, endlessly bothering them.

It was a voice worn thin, utterly weary.

“Clade! I can explain everything! If you’d just give me a chance!”

Ariesta, still unaware that Yuan stood behind her, shook off her stunned paralysis and stepped forward.

Her lake-clear watery eyes shimmered with grievance.

“I was so young back then, Clade! Clade, you know this—you know how devoted I was to you! If only I hadn’t made the mistake of leaving you, I would have stayed by your side for ten years, worrying over you! Even now, I’m so worried about you that I rushed all the way from the capital to this place!”

Ariesta shook her slightly disheveled clothes, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Look at me! Me, who stayed locked in my room in the north for ten years! When I heard you’d come out, I headed straight to the capital, and now here I am—alone under this scorching sun that could wither a person to death! All because I’m worried about you!”

Ariesta clenched her fists tightly, trembling.

A faint groan escaped her bitten lips.

“Still, you don’t understand? My sincerity? My genuine worry for you……”

Yuan felt Ariesta’s desperate cry as if it were lodged in her own throat.

Certainly.

Ariesta’s departure could be dismissed as a youthful mistake.

When Yuan first heard about what had happened between Ariesta and Clade, she hadn’t thought Ariesta was entirely in the wrong—instead, she had tried to understand: what could a young girl have possibly done when faced with a cursed fiancé?

Even Yuan, who had seen countless horrific patients, had stiffened and swallowed her scream the first time she saw Clade.

What Clade couldn’t forgive wasn’t just a youthful mistake, nor the guilt of having abandoned her fiancé—after all, Ariesta had shut herself away at home for ten years.

What Clade found harder to bear was the audacity of this woman, now a married adult with no innocence of youth left, standing before him with declarations of love, betrayal, and repeated warnings.

“I don’t need you to worry about me. I never expected anything from you to begin with.”

And so, he could say such words while staring straight into Yuan’s face, which, like Ariesta’s, glistened with unshed tears.

“Clade!”

“I never loved you. I don’t consider it betrayal. I have no reason to be angry. I just can’t understand what gives you the right to worry about me and keep appearing before me after leaving me.”

When he saw Yuan at the palace, worrying about his health and congratulating him on receiving the countship.

When he heard her say she had been concerned for him.

How utterly absurd Clade must have felt.

No matter what this woman—whom he had never expected anything from, never loved—chattered about in front of him.

To that man, who had built a high wall just as he had when they first met, her actions were nothing more than an irritating presence—nothing more, nothing less.

“I’m not blaming you.”

The man continued, speaking directly into Yuan’s trembling eyes.

“Clade, I—”

“I understand you.”

Behind the speechless Ariesta.

Yuan, forgetting even to breathe, met Clade’s gaze—fixed solely on her—with unwavering steadiness.

“If I were in your place, I would have left too.”

The man declared firmly, his eyes dark and somber.

“So stop being a nuisance. Just disappear from my sight.”

Only then.

Yuan’s head, which had been holding firm, dropped like that of a condemned prisoner at execution.

No tears came. No laughter either.

She had already given all her smiles to the black mansion.

And her tears—she had shed them constantly since leaving him, until now they had dried up. At this moment, when she wanted nothing more than to let them flow, her trembling legs rebuked her in place of tears.

“Clade, how could you!”

Yuan turned her back on Ariesta, whose shriek was nearly a scream.

She turned her back to the man who still hadn’t taken his eyes off her—exactly as he wished.

“Clade…… You can’t treat me like this!!”

And then she ran forward, retracing her steps, sprinting ahead, ahead.

***

Ariesta still trembled, her shoulders shaking as she stared at Clade’s cold face.

No matter her past mistakes, Clade, now back out in the world, had no right to treat Ariesta so rudely.

She had been raised like a greenhouse flower, but she wasn’t foolish.

Clade, who currently lacked any faction that could reliably support him, was like a candle in the wind.

Even if Clade’s position in the imperial succession was now the lowest among the royal family—even if he were labeled a deposed prince—his noble bloodline remained untainted.

There were countless nobles deeply dissatisfied with Emperor Igor.

They simply refrained from showing their discontent openly because they valued their own lives.

The Emperor surely knew this.

And if those factions began slowly reaching out to Clade, would the Emperor stay idle?

Unless they were a major noble house, any minor noble who dared reach out to Clade would be swiftly punished by the Emperor.

Ariesta trembled with humiliation, yet gritted her teeth.

Ten years of resolve were etched into her delicate face.

“No matter how I look at it, Clade. The only path for you to survive is through me.”

Clade, who had just been pushing her away with harsh words, suddenly fell silent.

Ariesta seized the moment, raising her momentum.

“Does it seem to you, Clade, that I’m shamelessly rushing to you now that you’re free from the curse?”

Clade still gave no reply.

As if indifferent to Ariesta’s opinion, despite her having chased him all the way to Marquis Companni’s territory.

Ariesta pushed aside her sorrow and hardened her heart.

“I won’t completely deny it. Yes, it’s true—I could only approach you because you’ve come out into the world.”

Ariesta lowered her pride to explain.

Her watery eyes, as always, gradually filled with goodwill and a sense of justice.

“So what?”

Ariesta carried not a shred of shame in her heart.

And she was ready to face the thorny path that lay ahead.

Ten years had transformed even Ariesta, the greenhouse flower, sharpening her resolve like a finely honed blade.

In other words, she was ready to admit her mistakes and fully dedicate her life to Clade.

“Where is there love without hardship? There are people outside who married as first loves, had children, even grandchildren, and still ended in divorce. Before anything else, we are human beings, not just people of high status.”

“Love?”

Clade’s eyes, which had been vaguely avoiding her, suddenly snapped into sharp focus.

His reaction suggested that this word was the hardest one he’d heard so far.

Ariesta spoke as if trying to stop Clade from bolting from his seat.

“Clade, I think you’re mistaken. I didn’t come here begging you to love me.”

Ariesta summoned more courage and stepped forward, one step at a time.

“I came here to tell you to use me—for your own survival.”

How could his expression remain so utterly unchanged?

While she was staking her entire life on these words.

Cruelly. Truly, cruelly.

But Ariesta had decided to accept even Clade’s coldness willingly.

“Don’t you see? No matter what plans you’re making, having the Grand Duke Drietter as your father-in-law will shield you and grant you freedom.”

Ariesta finally stood before Clade.

Even as she stood right before his nose, his gaze, which had lingered on the spot where she’d been moments ago, only now shifted slightly downward.

“You owe me a chance to make amends. Even if I lose everything through that chance—it’s of no concern to me……”

Ariesta reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked Clade’s firm cheek.

“So take me, Clade.”

***

Under the scorching sun of the southern region, a small island.

A makeshift camp hastily set up by Torca’s navy, used as a base.

Dozens of pirates, captured after indiscriminately raiding a small village along the southern coast, were being led in a line, bound and held by navy soldiers.

Though few in number, southern pirates were experienced—so even when subdued, it was common for navy men to sustain injuries.

This time too, injured soldiers, wounded by the pirates’ swift blades, limped toward a small tent.

“Good heavens, seriously. Do these fellows think their bodies are made of rag dolls?”

Inside the tent were two doctors.

“The wound I stitched last time burst open just as neatly! This time, I’ll sew it up so flawlessly and beautifully!”

“P-P-Please, not that again……!”

“Who do they think digs graves for a living? Paying us a pittance and making us perform this surgery over and over—honestly!”

A green-haired man, talkative and scolding, gathered his messy hair with one hand, picked up a needle, and waved it threateningly as he berated each soldier brought in.

“With such precious manpower stuck here doing nothing but stitching—if you won’t cooperate, what then?! Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

“……If you worked half as much as you talk, you could treat hundreds of injured men in no time.”

“Doctor……”

When the quiet, black-haired doctor sharply rebuked him, the green-haired doctor instantly deflated like a popped balloon and began diligently treating the wounded.

Then, one soldier caught his eye—a man who seemed out of place.

“Huh? Look at this fellow. Still has the energy to leisurely read gossip sheets?”

“Just let me off this once, Doctor. Imperial news from across the sea is far more interesting than boring updates from Torca. When I return to my quarters, they’ll take it all away—let me read just a bit here, please.”

The talkative green-haired doctor, Hile, fell silent for a moment.

Imperial news from across the sea……

His eyes, briefly wistful, slowly lowered to glance over the soldier’s shoulder at the gossip sheet.

On the cover, which looked months old, several very familiar names were boldly printed.

His eyes slowly widened—then twisted into a demonic glare, as if he were a messenger risen from hell.