Chapter 15

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 113

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I slumped down atop the castle wall. Hoping the swirling cold snowflakes would cool my fevered head.

In the end, Yurta had come looking for me.

'I must really hate you.'

For some inexplicable reason, just seeing Yurta made a vile lump crawl up my throat. It was utterly repulsive.

But right now, laughter bubbled up inside me.

"I'm engaged."

At the thought of seeing his twisted expression.

Engagement? What on earth was Rose saying?

"...What do you mean by that, sis?"

"Exactly what I said. Marquis Evantes proposed to me."

"..."

Yurta couldn't accept the situation unfolding before him.

"...Sis, you're joking, right?"

"Joking?"

"That kind of mean-spirited prank isn't funny."

"Why would I joke with you?"

Rose's red lips curved into a smile.

It was seductive and beautiful, but as Yurta gazed at it, heat burned beneath his eyes.

If those words were true, he had no confidence in keeping his sanity.

"Did Marquis Evantes threaten you, sis?"

"Threaten me?"

"Yes. I think I get it now."

Yurta smiled brightly as he walked toward Rose, who was perched on the castle wall.

Poor sis.

Just like back in the days at Herthas, without him, she was still utterly powerless.

"You've been threatened by Marquis Evantes."

His lips trembled as he repeated the same words, as if he'd just pieced it together. He simply couldn't acknowledge it.

The terror of uncovering the truth he'd buried was overwhelming.

Rose watched him with a dry gaze.

"You just want to believe I was threatened, don't you?"

The corner of her mouth lifted mockingly.

"Unfortunately, it's all a misunderstanding on your part."

She casually shattered his delusion.

Yurta's eyes narrowed.

Just moments ago, she had clearly begged him to save her.

Yet now, Rose smiled vividly amid the whirling snowflakes.

In Yurta's eyes, she alone was illuminated, like moonlight piercing the pitch-black night sky.

"Actually, I've had a crush on Marquis Evantes for three years now."

"..."

"Maybe this is that dream coming true?"

It sounded like the tale of a lovestruck girl, but he knew it was just mockery.

Rose, who despised him so utterly, always found ways to claw at his heart.

"...Your jokes have gone too far."

"You're right. It was a joke. But the engagement? That's real."

"Do you think I'll just stand by and watch?"

"Is that all you can say?"

Rose looked at him as if he were pathetic.

"What if I lose my mind and kidnap you? Is that what you're aiming for with all this?"

"Go back to the capital."

Yurta's eyes narrowed.

Her words had been grating on him for a while now.

The her atop the wall seemed like she might vanish with the swirling snow.

He finally couldn't hold back and reached out to her.

He seized her arm and locked eyes with her.

"You're mine, sis."

"..."

"So an engagement is out of the question."

As those words ended, a brief silence fell. Snowflakes brushed across the wall.

Rose stared at Yurta in that quiet moment, then burst into light laughter as if nothing had happened.

"You really are..."

It was a smile on the verge of crumbling. Fragile as if it might shatter, yet cruelly beautiful. It felt like anyone's heart might stop at the sight.

"You never fail to live up to expectations."

With her free hand, she lightly poked his chest.

The touch was faint, but it pierced his heart like a sharp spear.

"You said you'd change."

She caught her breath briefly, then continued calmly.

"But you're still so forceful."

Her gaze swept over his face. There was no blame, no anger.

"I can't see what's changed about you."

"Sis..."

Yurta's lips quivered faintly. He wanted to deny it.

If you'd just stay by my side, I could change.

But you won't even give me the chance.

A surge of long-suppressed emotions erupted like a breached dam. His chest burned hot inside.

Then Rose raised her hand and brushed his cheek.

Startled, he looked at her. Her hand was cold, perhaps from sitting on the wall so long.

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

Her voice was gentle and soft.

"Yurta."

"...Sis."

"Sorry for getting mad."

At those words, the rising emotions plummeted instantly. The anger, the injustice—all faded into haze.

The strength drained from Yurta's face. He didn't want to lose this warmth.

"Sis."

Slowly, he knelt. From his lowered gaze, he looked up at her desperately.

Rose gazed down at him, still smiling softly.

But her pink eyes held no warmth as they took him in. It was as if her emotions were trapped behind glass, leaving only chill air swirling around them.

Knowing the reason choked him.

And made him want to cry at the same time.

Rose was still imprisoned by 'that incident.'

And he hadn't escaped it either.

"...It wasn't me."

His voice cracked.

"What?"

"It wasn't me."

He pulled her waist into an embrace. Clinging desperately, as if he'd shatter if he let go. He tightened his arms, seeking confirmation of her body heat.

Incoherent pleas spilled out low and quiet.

Why was he acting like this all of a sudden?

It was thoroughly bewildering.

I couldn't comprehend Yurta suddenly pleading like a child in my arms, spouting nonsense.

'Is it because I was cold to him?'

Since Yurta was a madman, I'd tried not to provoke him unnecessarily.

I thought treating him as kindly as possible was best, but for some reason, seeing him always ignited irritation and disgust automatically.

Too late, I snapped out of it and switched to a friendly demeanor, but...

"...When will you finally believe me?"

This was the result.

What on earth was going on?

I had no idea what had happened between Rose and him. The frustration was suffocating.

"Yurta, I don't understand what you're talking about. Explain it properly."

I suppressed my annoyance as much as possible and lifted his head.

Then Yurta looked at me.

"What are you even saying?"

"It's because of 'that incident,' isn't it? Is the engagement because of that too?"

'That incident?'

Come to think of it, three years ago, he'd said something cryptic too.

Suddenly, I recalled the moment Rihart had escaped long ago.

I'd run into Yurta on the stairs of the Evantes mansion.

He'd offered to help me, and I'd refused.

'Sorry, but I don't need your help.'

What had Yurta said then?

'Is it because of "that time"?'

...What do I have to do for you to forgive me, sis?'

A buried past between Rose and Yurta—one I didn't know.

That realization twisted my gut again. Unexplained fatigue washed over me, bile slowly rising.

"...What 'incident'?"

I took a breath before speaking. Keeping my tone as neutral as possible to avoid sharpness.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Explain it to me, Yurta."

He fell silent for a moment.

Like someone with a lump in their throat, he swallowed hard, face contorting. His eyes shook anxiously before finally turning to me.

"...Sis, it really wasn't me."

"..."

"It wasn't me..."

The more he repeated it, the thinner his voice grew. Like an excuse he was chanting to himself.

He looked bound by chains, trapped in an inescapable loop.

Seeing that, my disgust receded briefly. In its place, an inexplicable curiosity stirred.

What had twisted this man into this state?

"Tell me, Yurta."

I knew it well.

If I treated him gently like this, Yurta could never refuse me.

For a while, he just worked his lips. Swallowing words several times, he finally bowed his head in agony.

Like a prisoner pierced by thorns, finally choosing confession.

"I..."

He exhaled a short, pained breath, face twisted in torment.

"You're resenting me for killing 'that woman,' aren't you?"

In that instant, the air froze, silence blanketing the room.

Hearing his words, my mind blanked for a moment. Like someone had struck the back of my head, thoughts severed.

What was he saying?

It took time to process the meaning.

Who? When? Questions chained in my mind. Instinct screamed to dig deeper.

But there was no time.

Yurta suddenly burrowed into my embrace.

Overwhelmed emotions crashed down with weight as he leaned in. His body trembled faintly.

"I... really didn't, sis."

His voice whispered too close to my ear, breath unsteady.

"I killed her... no, I didn't kill her. I didn't do it."

His words tangled, losing all order.

"I didn't do it."

Clinging like a child, he repeated the meaningless denial. Like a plea to be spared.

This side of him—so unlike the Yurta I knew—left me stunned, standing frozen without pushing him away.

How much time passed?

As his breathing steadied bit by bit, Yurta slowly pulled away.

He steadied his ragged breaths, composing himself. The air in the room hung heavy.

"...Don't go through with that engagement."

His voice was different now. Low and firm.

"What if I don't want to?"

At my question, Yurta's gaze pierced straight through.

"I'll stop it, no matter what it takes."

That voice wasn't a hand holding me back—it was a force shoving me toward the cliff's edge.

Only then did I realize.

We had already crossed a chasm with no way back.