155. An Unexpected Answer

2024.03.03.

“Oh, that.”

Yuan had been pondering it all along as well.

Eugene Kimfri had not told anyone about meeting Clade on the pirate island.

Nor had he revealed his suspicion that Clade might be a Swordmaster.

Of course, if Eugene Kimfri had secretly informed the Emperor or Bollonico, Enoch Pelliese would have no way of knowing. But considering that spreading the news publicly through newspapers would be far more effective than discreetly informing someone, it was safe to assume the matter remained confidential.

Thinking back to how she had nearly lost her mind wondering whether this man was friend or foe, Yuan now felt he was someone she could trust—at least as much as Noel, if not quite to the same degree.

Perhaps he was even the first person worthy of being named among Clade’s allies, the allies Yuan wished to create.

“I’m looking for someone. May I ask a favor of you?”

Eugene Kimfri, who had been subtly avoiding eye contact, straightened his posture and listened to her with a solemn expression.

His face showed almost no change as she cautiously began to speak.

Instead, it was Yuan, the one making the unusual request to find family, who occasionally received strange, thoughtful glances from him.

“I’ll start searching in the Eastern Region. Finding someone there isn’t particularly difficult for me.”

Two days after that conversation, Eugene Kimfri arrived with Enoch Pelliese in tow.

***

Enoch did not attempt to comfort Hille, who sobbed continuously throughout the carriage ride.

His eyes, as he ran his hand over his thickly grown beard several times, appeared almost cold.

Arriving at a territory far wealthier than the Torca Islands, Enoch’s dark eyes remained deeply sunken as he followed behind a clearly high-ranking man, touring the mansion.

It had been well over twenty years since he last walked through such a mansion.

It had been over twenty years since he cut ties with the Pelliese family—so this was only natural.

“As I mentioned earlier, the favor I’m asking is that you please, at least, take a look at my lady… that is, your niece.”

Niece.

At Hille’s request, Enoch let out a bitter laugh.

How far would he go for a niece he had never met?

He had loved Louise, and he had lost her. He never wanted to love any family again. He was utterly exhausted.

“Enter.”

A knight with navy blue, tightly pulled-back hair and deep amber eyes stepped aside from the massive doorway, his sharp, piercing gaze sweeping over them.

Inside the lavish parlor.

A woman standing by the window, gazing outside under the warm sunlight of early autumn, turned toward them.

Hille dropped to her knees with a loud thud.

Enoch passed by her and slowly approached the woman, whose eyes widened in shock.

The pallor of death clinging to her face.

The family curse.

The familiar yet different face before him bore the cursed fate of the Pelliese—the very fate he had long despised.

His self-mocking thought—how far could he really go for a niece he’d never met?—shattered instantly.

Overwhelmed by the familiar, intense premonition of grief he had already experienced once before.

Without realizing it, Enoch rushed forward and pulled the frozen, wide-eyed niece into his arms.

Whether Hille behind them gasped in shock, head buried in tears, or whether Eugene Kimfri, guarding the door, ran in hand on sword hilt—it didn’t matter. He trembled and wept.

“You’re…”

Like a man choking, he croaked for a long moment before finally uttering his niece’s name.

“You’re Yuan.”

As Yuan, still dazed in his embrace, slowly began to break down, he pulled her closer and whispered.

“You’re the Yuan Louise loved.”

***

The sudden appearance of a new uncle—other than Garrett Pelliese—left Yuan confused.

But the face resembling her deceased father, the warm embrace that carried the scent of the outside wind.

And hearing Louise’s name emerge from that hoarse voice—tears, impossibly hot, poured from Yuan’s eyes.

She cried without knowing why.

Shaking, burying her small body in that warmth.

Her heart, which had swayed aimlessly without support, found a firm pillar. Clinging to it, she wept for a long time.

Only after leaning back on a plush chair and composing her face did she finally recognize Hille, still kneeling on the floor, sobbing.

Hille, unable to lift her head properly, began wailing the moment she sensed Yuan’s gaze, claiming she had committed a crime worthy of death.

“I told Prince Clade about me.”

Hille nodded, wiping her face with a handkerchief soaked through.

Yuan gestured toward Eugene Kimfri, who stood nearby, still watching them. It was a silent request to leave—this was a private matter.

In the past, Eugene would have scoffed at such a request without even a snort. But now, he simply sighed deeply, said he would wait by the door, and stepped outside.

Only after the door closed did Yuan abruptly rise and approach Hille, lifting her up.

“What did you tell him?”

“That my lady is ill.”

Seeing Yuan sharply narrow her brows, Hille trembled slightly and added.

“And why my lady entered the palace.”

Yuan’s face stiffened.

“Why did I enter the palace? What do you know about it?”

“Weren’t you going to kill Crown Prince Bollonico?”

Yuan flinched. Hille rubbed her swollen, puffy eyes and stepped closer.

“You told me to run and let you handle it yourself. I ran. But the moment I heard the Crown Prince was bringing other women into his bedchamber, I knew I couldn’t stay away.”

“What are you to me?”

Hille’s mouth snapped shut as Yuan’s face turned as cold as winter ice.

“I told you to leave and not interfere. I said I’d handle it.”

“Are you telling me to just watch and let my benefactor die?”

“Speaking out of turn to the Crown Prince was crossing the line.”

“Are you telling me to stand by while my benefactor dies from an absurd misunderstanding?”

“You have no right to interfere. I clearly—!”

The moment blood vessels rose on her forehead, Yuan doubled over as if seized by a spasm.

Bright, alarming red blood spilled onto the emerald green carpet.

Hille, and even Enoch Pelliese, who had been quietly composing himself in the back, froze stiff, staring blankly as Yuan hastily clamped a handkerchief over her mouth.

Yuan wiped her lips with a cough, staggered to a nearby sofa, and leaned back.

She massaged her temples with her fingertips like someone suffering from a terrible headache, glaring at Hille.

Hille pressed her fingers against her increasingly distorted eyes and replied.

“I know I can’t help my lady on my own. If I were someone capable, I’d have stayed close, even in hiding, confident I could cure her illness. So I tried to give up, to turn away. But all while running, I kept thinking of my lady. Then I met the doctor.”

Hille’s sorrowful eyes turned to Yuan, then slid toward Enoch.

How joyful it had been to hear that the most renowned physician in the Torca Islands bore the surname “Pelliese.”

How overjoyed he had been to hear others boast that this man wished to cure every illness in the world.

For months, Hille endured, recalling Yuan’s words—that matters concerning the family were not for outsiders to meddle in.

He followed Enoch everywhere, who welcomed no outsiders, helping with his work without pay.

And now, here he was.

“You may cast me out again, if you wish. As my lady said, my involvement in the affairs of these two nobles… yes, I’ve crossed the line. I’m sorry.”

Unable to bear Yuan’s icy gaze, Hille lowered his head.

“But please accept treatment. You said outsiders should not interfere, but if family takes care of you, that’s different, isn’t it? No—don’t even listen to me. Just look at the doctor beside you. No one would stand by and watch family die. For that, I am satisfied.”

Even if I spend the rest of my life hated by my lady.

Hille didn’t dare speak the last sentence aloud. He bowed so deeply his crown nearly touched the floor, then left, heading outside where Eugene Kimfri stood guard.

After Hille left, a brief silence settled between Yuan and Enoch.

Yuan met Enoch’s calm, steady gaze with a deep sigh.

Like a child who had done wrong, she quietly averted her eyes and murmured.

“It’s incurable anyway.”

“…”

“If it were a curable illness, my uncle would have already promised to heal it.”

“…”

“…Right?”

Seeing Enoch silently staring at her, Yuan forced a smile as if to say she was fine, then pulled out a leather pouch she had hidden inside her clothes.

“The reason I sought out my uncle was to ask you to let me see the letter my sister left for me. No.”

Yuan steadied her increasingly ragged breath from earlier and straightened her back, as if preparing to listen.

Clutching the open mouth of the leather pouch tightly with both hands, she looked directly into eyes just like her own—dark and unwavering.

“I’m certain my sister kept in contact with you continuously, from her childhood return to the estate until recently. Tell me everything—anything you heard from her, or anything related to her—tell me all of it.”

Enoch opened his mouth calmly, showing no surprise, as if he had already deduced from Hille and Yuan’s conversation what she truly wanted.

“…Let us go back over ten years ago.”

Startled by the unexpected answer, Yuan stiffened.

“The day your parents, who had taken your sister back from me, returned in a carriage to the Pelliese estate during the dead of winter.”

As Yuan vividly recalled that horrifying day—the day she lost her family—Enoch’s lips began to release a heavy truth.

“It began with Emperor Igor attacking that carriage.”