Chapter 19

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 19

Chapter Title: Everything Perfectly

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“Clodel!”

Kaiyan dropped to his knees, trying to lift Clodel up.

At that moment.

The sight of her collapsed on the ground brought a strange sensation, as if every piece had fallen perfectly into place.

Her red hair spread vividly across the field of white marguerite flowers surrounding clusters of yellow wood sorrel.

Her snow-white, pale face held golden eyes that had once gleamed like polished amber, but now they were unfocused and hazy.

A body thinned by wasting away, grown gaunt and slender.

The handful of flowers he had given her slipped powerlessly from her grasp, their white petals scattering alongside the bloodstains on her hair, as red as her locks.

Click. Like the final puzzle piece snapping into place.

The way she would shiver with faint coughs even after feverish nights.

The sight of her wasting away like someone starving alone in a castle where food rotted untouched, no matter how much he urged her to eat.

The moments when, mid-quiet conversation, she would trail off and gaze into the distance with eyes that saw everything as fleeting.

It all fit together perfectly the instant she collapsed, like gears in a clock meshing seamlessly.

He embraced the woman whose breath was fading beautifully, like a figure in a tragic painting.

And in that moment, Kaiyan felt as though he were trampling some masterpiece of art with muddy boots, ruining it beyond repair.

He had no idea why she had collapsed.

But he understood now why she had lived as she had all this time.

“Butler! Butler!”

Kaiyan bellowed hoarsely as he scooped her up and ran toward the castle.

Valmond territory, ruled by Duke Vermonte, lay at the northernmost edge of the continent.

The castle's position in the coldest spot—not just of Oberon Kingdom, but the entire continent—carried symbolic weight.

What was now a harsh chill burdening its people had long been part of life for those born and raised here.

Beneath the frozen ground, the deeper tunnels grew so hot from geothermal heat that one had to shed layers of clothing.

And the ores mined from those sweltering depths were all precious and exorbitantly valuable.

Their distant ancestor, amassing immense wealth, had built Valmond Castle in a place no one could easily approach or survive.

He believed it demonstrated House Vermonte's unassailable power.

At the same time, they monopolized sea routes across the North Sea, dominating trade between Ita Continent—home to Oberon Kingdom—and Sol Continent. It was no wonder House Vermonte handled diplomacy.

The castle, frozen half the year, now basked in midsummer, displaying its grandeur over the green tundra plains.

Moss, short and soft like the damp hair of a nursing infant, caught the falling sunlight, proudly showcasing the North's verdant hue.

As the Vermonte patriarch returned from over a month's journey, the castle knights swiftly lined up to greet him.

“Dismissed. Back to your duties.”

“Yes, Your Grace. We're glad you've returned safely.”

As Duke Vermonte dismounted and entered the castle, a servant hurried over to drape a thick cloak lined with reindeer fur over his shoulders.

Even in midsummer, Valmond Castle felt a touch chilly inside.

The Duchess of Vermonte emerged alone, bustling out at news of her husband's return.

“Welcome home.”

“Mm.”

Duke Vermonte addressed his adjutant, who had traveled the long road with him.

“There are thirty wagons. Check for any spoilage along the way and send the knights to distribute the grain today.”

“Yes, as you command.”

After years of hardship from drought and tense standoffs with House Temneth causing food shortages, everyone revered the patriarch for bringing back so much grain and resolving the territory's crisis.

“How was Clodel?”

The duke frowned at his wife's question.

“It's progressing steadily.”

“Hah.”

The duchess lowered her voice, her face pained.

“It feels like we've done her wrong.”

“Hush. Don't say such nonsense. If Clodel hadn't agreed, our people would have starved come harvest next year.”

“Even so... I hoped she'd at least be buried in Valmond.”

Valmond Castle's underground crypt held Evan's coffin and an empty one reserved for Clodel's mother, whose body had been lost to flames.

“If only we could find a cure.”

“It's been three hundred years since anyone survived Herzol.”

There were ways to cure Herzol, but not entirely.

The medicine for a disease that no longer afflicted many had vanished into history long ago.

“It couldn't be helped.”

The duke shared a companionate bond with his wife, discussing important matters—ruling the territory or otherwise—together.

She knew of Clodel's illness, but he hadn't told her about Valquiter King's biased support for crushing House Temneth.

The duchess, who had pitied Clodel as a fellow mother raising a daughter after losing her own parents, would be devastated and furious if she knew how far he had gone.

Rumors swirled that the duchess had registered Clodel on the family register and received lavish jewels in return, but it was untrue.

The Duchess of Vermonte had adopted Clodel as her daughter unconditionally.

“If you hadn't held Evan back...”

“Ugh. Can we drop that? I'm tired too.”

Since hastily arranging Clodel's marriage like lightning roasting beans, the duke had endured this complaint every night in their bedchamber for a full month. It was torture.

Better to cough up blood and die—then I'd have peace!

Changing the subject, his wife stopped piling guilt on his chest with her nagging tone.

“How was Rowen Castle?”

“House Temneth's extravagance pierces the heavens. Gold trimmings everywhere...”

About to complain of gold leaf everywhere, Duke Vermonte trailed off. Valmond Castle was adorned with jewels and gold too. He mentally justified it: This is their origin; it's not extravagance here.

The duchess smiled at her husband.

“Lady Elise is a princess, after all. She couldn't live in squalor.”

“Hmph. House Temneth rabble. I'll burn it all down soon enough.”

Tormented by the long drought, Duke Vermonte harbored deep resentment toward Kaiyan.

A man needed some humanity.

After cutting off grain exports for years, starving Valmond's people, now preparing for territorial war?

The fact that the son of his enemy saw him as such easy prey wounded the duke's pride terribly.

A mere boy, barely weaned!

Daring to draw a blade against me?

If not for Oberon King's whisper of Kaiyan preparing for war, he wouldn't have sent Clodel so far away.

Not entirely at ease with the decision, he hadn't punished Hanna for barging into his study in a rage but had given her secret funds and sent her to Rowen territory.

Hanna still didn't know Clodel had Herzol.

The duke thought that if he told her, she might scour the continent's end for a cure.

Clodel had begged him to keep it secret from Hanna.

Instead of marrying into House Temneth, she wanted Hanna kept in the dark about her illness.

Yet before the bride departed, Duke Vermonte had summoned Hanna privately, handing her a large sum and earnestly instructing her.

“Why give this money to me...”

“Hanna. Just in case. If something happens to Clodel in Rowen Castle... recover her body and bring it back to Valmond.”

Hanna's face hardened at his words.

“Ensure she's not dishonored. Bring her back intact. We can't leave her on enemy soil.”

The maid, head bowed and fists clenched, said nothing.

Without a yes or no, she snatched the money pouch from his desk and stormed out.

“What of the young Duke of Temneth?”

“Hmph. A pup whose blood hasn't even dried.”

Duke Vermonte pursed his lips.

“Well, still slick and well-put-together, I'll give him that.”

He had first seen the much-rumored Kaiyan on the day of the wedding at Valmond Castle.

Arriving just as the ceremony began and leaving alone right after—without his bride—he had stayed less than two hours.

“He would've been fine if not our enemy.”

Though married into House Vermonte, the duchess—not Valmond-born—held mildly lenient views toward House Temneth.

“He would've been fine if Clodel weren't ill.”

“Then even this disastrous marriage might've worked out somehow for that clever girl.”

As the couple shared a silent moment of worry, light footsteps approached from afar.

“Father!”

Duke Vermonte's face bloomed at the lively young woman's voice.

“Irena!”

“Father, I missed you.”

The girl, hugging him warmly and kissing his cheek, shared his red hair and golden eyes.

Irena, his only blood kin—precious enough not to hurt even in his eyes—was, by his account, a masterpiece of the gods.

Her looks took after her beautiful mother in youth, with his hair and eye color.

“No ailments? I worried on your long trip.”

“Don't fret. It takes more than this to fell your old man.”

“Rest today, dear. Irena.”

At the duchess's words, Irena smiled brightly.

“Yes. Tomorrow, tell me all about Rowen over lunch?”

“Of course. Let's eat together.”

As Irena waved and vanished, Duke Vermonte's face darkened.

If only Kaiyan weren't House Temneth...

House Vermonte treasured its heirs. By his generation, until adopting Clodel, Irena was their only child.

A patriarch with no siblings to spare couldn't march to war, so his eldest daughter Irena had married the second son of a marquess house—sans title.

But the son-in-law fell in battle just a month after heading to the front.

Irena became a widow overnight.

Finding a suitable son-in-law for the young, beautiful widow was tough in a kingdom short on eligible men.

They called him the kingdom's top bachelor.

If only that boy weren't the enemy threatening territorial war at my throat.

Duke Vermonte smacked his lips.

It was a beautiful, memorable day.

The fragrance of flowers, birds chirping, the sound of flowing water.

The sweet, slightly bitter taste of marguerite petals brushing her lips.

And Kaiyan.

The husband offering her the flowers was the most dashing man she had ever seen holding them.

Her heart had fluttered a little, perhaps.

She had only meant to lean down naturally and inhale their scent.

But even that faint stimulus overwhelmed her body.

Clodel's world plunged into darkness.

Tap.

Tap, tap.

In pitch-black void where she could see or hear nothing, the crackle of embers popping in a furnace rang out.

Was this Valmond Castle?

Rowen Castle in summer never needed a fire.

Once roused, her mind gradually summoned sensations back to her body, like stretching after sleep.

Tap. Crackle.

Opening her eyes, she saw flames roaring in a wall hearth.

Blinking, thinking it a dream—it was the duchess's splendidly decorated bedroom.

Clodel slowly sat up.

Then, beside the large pillow that had covered her view moments ago, in the dim corner, she finally noticed Kaiyan sitting.

His eyes, glaring at her from the shadows, burned scarlet.

“Did you come here to die?”