152. Rather, you…….

2024.02.29.

Empress Marilyn held festivities for several days after Eugene Kimfri and his companions returned, in recognition of their efforts in eliminating the pirates.

Thanks to Bollonico fleeing, the Empress’s dignity—which had been shaken when she fell to the ground—was at least preserved by the achievements of Eugene and Federico whom she had brought along.

And apart from that, Empress Marilyn, deeply grateful to Eugene Kimfri for eliminating the long-standing threat of the southern pirates—even if not all of them were eradicated—became exceedingly lenient and offered to grant him any wish.

Ordinary knights usually desired fine swords, titles, lands, or treasures, but as the eldest son of the eastern Count Kimfri family, he had no need for such things.

Perhaps for that reason, Eugene Kimfri’s answer was somewhat unexpected.

“I humbly request that Your Majesty visit my homeland, the eastern Count Kimfri territory, even if just briefly.”

From that moment, the procession preparing for the return to the capital began making arrangements for the journey east.

In the east, the Harvest Festival—where the first harvest of the year was offered to the gods in prayer for a bountiful year—was held slightly earlier, and the Empress had been specially invited to grace the occasion.

This was exceptionally welcome news for Empress Marilyn, who had been eager to bring Noel and Tasha together.

Moreover, rumor had it that the Emperor Igor’s palace still housed that problematic “concubine,” giving her a perfect excuse not to return just yet.

Yuan opened the window of the carriage, which had begun to pick up speed.

A still humid breeze brushed against her cheek, and her eyes met Eugene Kimfri’s, who had been talking animatedly just moments before.

Even though they were both inside the carriage, the distance between them felt excessively close. Yuan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Eugene Kimfri spoke in an unusually gentle manner.

“Is there something you’d like me to do?”

“No.”

Ever since Yuan had saved his life and declared she would use him when necessary,

Eugene Kimfri had begun lingering wherever her gaze fell.

She had doubted he’d continue even after leaving the south, but unsurprisingly, he did.

Yuan subtly shifted her gaze to the opposite side.

There sat Tasha and Noel, happily whispering to each other as if they had endless things to say.

Since reconciling with Tasha, Noel had naturally joined them in the same carriage.

Compared to the days when he used to avoid her, this was truly remarkable progress.

Her relationship with Tasha had also improved beyond measure.

The watchful, piercing stares she once received had softened, and whenever Yuan appeared physically exhausted, Tasha would firmly support and guide her.

Whether she truly regarded her as a “friend,” as Noel had hinted, was unclear, but her attitude had certainly changed.

As Yuan gazed at the affectionate pair, her expression darkened, reminded naturally of a certain man whenever she looked at Noel.

That night would sometimes come upon her without warning, piercing her heart.

But after the pain passed, one question always remained in the corner of her mind.

She had exhausted herself healing him, staying awake through the night to ease his suffering—yet when she finally saw his thigh, it was shockingly healed.

It had recovered far beyond the point where her desperate healing was necessary, leaving Yuan utterly bewildered.

Since she was already facing Eugene Kimfri, Yuan decided to resolve her curiosity and spoke.

“Have you ever seen someone recover from a severe injury at an impossible speed?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Eugene Kimfri remained silent for a moment, his body swaying gently with the rhythmic steps of the horse, before answering.

“As far as I know, only a Swordmaster or someone of comparable strength could possess such recovery ability.”

His amber eyes cautiously searched Yuan’s face before he added,

“…Could it be that the Crown Prince is a Swordmaster?”

Yuan stiffened at how quickly Eugene Kimfri leapt to such a conclusion.

She vehemently denied it, then glared at Eugene, who clearly didn’t believe her.

“I’ve just remembered something I need you to do, Lord Kimfri. The question I just asked—and the conclusion you drew—must not be spoken of to anyone.”

“You don’t need to use your wish privilege for this.”

Eugene watched her intense reaction with keen interest, then replied calmly, his eyes growing quiet.

“People believe the credit for eliminating the pirate gang belongs solely to Lord Federico and me.”

He gave a bitter smile.

“That’s exactly what the Crown Prince wants. I have no reason to go around saying things that would draw attention to him.”

At his calm, low voice, Yuan briefly looked at him as if seeing him anew.

Beneath his neatly tied navy-blue hair, swaying gently with the rhythm of the hoofbeats, his handsome face carried a solemn glow.

“Try to rest. The journey to the east is long. Though it’s still early for the wheat to ripen, you might still see some fine wheat fields.”

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Yuan felt that Eugene Kimfri was being particularly kind.

The Kimfri siblings, whose attitudes had changed; Noel, who maintained unwavering trust in her and made efforts to protect her minor secrets.

A journey to the east—a place she had never visited in her life. Everything felt strangely peaceful.

Thanks to the extreme pain inflicted by the pirate, her abilities had grown significantly as well.

Though she hadn’t found Enoch Pelliese yet, her trip to the south could still be considered a success.

Except, of course, for the increasing amount of blood soaking through her handkerchief.

Receiving a fresh handkerchief from Tasha, who approached with a sorrowful expression, Yuan looked past Eugene, who watched her with a hardened gaze, toward the receding Marquisate.

A Swordmaster.

Or someone of equivalent strength.

‘Clade.’

When did you become such a formidable person?

Perhaps you were someone who could have lived just fine without someone like me from the very beginning.

Was the thought that I might be the only one who could protect you merely a dying man’s arrogant wish?

Because of my attempts to protect you, could it be that I’ve become your greatest stain?

Her eyes, which had trembled, shattered, and repeatedly broken and mended into something stronger, slowly regained focus.

The voice of a summer day, once scattered and crushed into chaos.

Yuan faintly smiled, pressing that voice deep into her heart.

Then perhaps this is something to be glad about.

Even if she died right now, it meant Clade Euphris wasn’t someone easily defeated.

Just vaguely realizing this made her heart feel a little lighter.

At the tail end of summer.

Remembering Clade, who never once appeared at any of the victory celebrations she attended.

Remembering the past few days when she had waited, hoping that the moment she last saw—the moment his beautiful face twisted in that dark, damp cave—would not be the last.

Yuan gazed endlessly at the departing summer, as if it might be the last of her life.

Goodbye.

‘Goodbye, Clade.’

Goodbye, Clade Euphris.

Even if you don’t suffer so much, I am still—.

Like the fading summer, her face gradually blurred away.

***

The earth-shaking sound of hooves and rough breathing scattered into the air.

Eddie Rev was thrown to the ground, and Clade couldn’t remember how he had managed to mount the horse in that state.

He simply couldn’t suppress the rising anxiety surging up from beneath his feet, just like on a certain day back on the island.

If asked what made him anxious, he couldn’t answer.

Because before he could even think about it, that feeling had welled up like water, rising instantly to his throat.

He gasped for breath like a drowning man.

Hire’s voice, filled with fury.

The voice of the betrayer whom Eddie claimed was worthless to trust, mixed with the wind rushing past his ears, making his head spin.

Yuan Pelliese is ill.

She’s vomiting blood, suffering terribly, and might die at any moment.

She could be on her deathbed.

She might have dragged her sick body to go kill Bollonico, who had issued the assassination order.

At the end of that thought, Clade burst into helpless laughter.

Who kills whom?

That woman killing Bollonico?

An absurd assumption.

Clearly absurd……

Yet he couldn’t just dismiss it as another trick of the betrayer, like he had done with Eddie Rev……

It felt as if someone had sliced diagonally across the mountain peak he once climbed on the island and dropped it straight into his chest—oppressive and suffocating.

It was as if all the things he had fled from and slaughtered were now crammed back into his heart.

If only he could see Yuan Pelliese’s face right now and demand the doctor explain himself, he might feel a little better.

Yes.

He would go meet her.

Wasn’t she the woman who said he could vent his anger on her as much as he wanted?

Clade Euphris, still her legal husband, had every right to meet her, whether she was the Empress’s handmaiden or the Crown Prince’s concubine.

He rode on in silence for a long while.

The black horse Alon, foaming at the mouth from exhaustion, lifted its front legs and slowed as its rider suddenly pulled the reins.

At last, atop the hill where they came to a stop,

the golden-haired man seated on Alon—Clade Euphris—gazed at the Empress’s retreating procession.

Below the hill where he stood, waves of purple cloaks flowed gently like midday tides.

Is it over once he asks the woman?

What comes after confirmation?

The horse, which had galloped nonstop from the center to the outskirts of the Marquisate at full speed, groaned and drooled heavily.

If he kicked the black horse’s flank, it would once again shake the earth and surge forward.

But Clade couldn’t move any further, as if someone were holding his feet down.

Memories he had buried deep within his heart, never to be unearthed, now spread through his mind like ink spilled into clear water.

His own muffled voice suddenly pierced deep into his skull.

At the final moment.

What had he said to her?

“Rather……”

“Rather, you……”

That sticky, swamp-like night.

The night he felt like the most wretched person in the world.

“…it would have been better if you had just disappeared.”

As if that were the only thing he ever wished for her.

Why, of all times, did that final trembling utterance come back to him now?