Chapter 51
Yvonne collapsed to the floor, weeping.
She clutched Angela’s legs, soaking her dress with tears, sobbing loudly with unrestrained grief. Angela couldn’t discern the meaning behind those tears, which fell more heavily than tears of apology.
She could only guess that Yvonne was overcome with emotion, perhaps because Angela had said the words she wanted to hear.
Then, a sudden thought struck her: had she finally put an end to this?
Her relationship with Yvonne had left Angela with countless wounds. But she couldn’t live carrying all those scars forever.
“It’s okay.”
If she was going to cast aside the poison, if she was going to move forward and live somewhere, anywhere, without stopping, then Angela had to be okay, just as she’d said.
The words she spoke to Yvonne were both a vow to herself and a soothing reassurance.
It’s okay, Angela. Everything’s okay.
Before Yvonne entered, Angela had nearly given in to the urge to open the vial of poison. Now, she clenched her hand tightly, refusing to let it move on its own. She commanded herself to hold syrup, not poison, tomorrow as well.
“Is our Count Florence feeling neglected?”
“There’s no way that could be.”
Kalian responded to Truga’s question with a loyal expression. For someone who had just been released from prison for defying an imperial order, he exuded a devotion surpassing that of most nobles.
Looking at Kalian’s unresentful face, Truga thought to himself that this was indeed a man he couldn’t discard. He stepped down from his seat and stood face-to-face with Kalian, patting his shoulder directly.
“It’s not that I doubted your loyalty. I had to make an example, that’s all. The emperor’s seat is like that. You can’t call everything good that feels good, nor everything bad that feels bad. It seems like you can do anything, but nothing can truly be done as you please.”
He meant that he’d wanted to spare Kalian but couldn’t because of watchful eyes. Kalian gave a brief nod, indicating he understood Truga’s intent.
“I understand. Please don’t dwell on it.”
With a satisfied look, Truga patted Kalian’s shoulder a couple more times before returning to his seat. Then he added,
“By the way, you made quite a catch while trying to save your fiancée. It was the work of that Taran Kingdom heir, wasn’t it?”
Unlike his tone when praising a loyal subject, his voice carried a sharp edge.
“Yes. Every member of the captured group named the same person.”
The first prince of the Taran Kingdom, Rasil.
Kalian answered in a stern voice. Truga clicked his tongue roughly, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Tch, are they scheming to start a war?”
Unlike when the Alcyon and Red Wolf appeared, Truga’s face was now heavy with anger rather than fatigue.
Monster attacks were a matter of appetite, but human attacks were a matter of greed—a controllable emotion.
Yet, to act on that greed and dare to challenge Pailon was something Truga would never tolerate. That was how the Pailon Empire had grown, absorbing one fallen nation after another. Truga’s expression suggested he was ready to order a campaign at any moment. Facing that look, Kalian calmly shared his thoughts.
“If someone of his stature did this openly, he must have thought it didn’t matter if he was found out. It could even be an act to provoke a war. Given the visible gap between Pailon and the Taran Kingdom, it’s strange, isn’t it? I believe we shouldn’t act rashly and need to investigate what they’re relying on.”
Truga nodded, finding Kalian’s reasoning sound, and slowly calmed the fire of war that had been rising in his chest.
“It’s not connected to the Empress, is it?”
“Nothing has been confirmed.”
Truga’s sudden suspicion was quelled by Kalian’s firm response. Entrusting the matter entirely to Kalian, Truga showed his trust.
Knowing this was his reward for enduring prison, Kalian expressed gratitude instead of mere acknowledgment, making Truga laugh.
“You’re a rogue, aren’t you?”
Chuckling heartily, Truga watched as Kalian left the audience chamber. As he walked down the corridor, Kalian thought about the problems he now had to solve.
Among them, the most significant, absurdly, was sending Angela another marriage proposal. He’d done it once before, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.
Kalian imagined writing those words on paper. His hand trembled slightly. Scolding himself for already being in such a state, he was interrupted.
“Kalian.”
A voice called from behind. In the palace, only one person would address him so. Turning, he saw Duke Wilton, Dominic, standing before him. Kalian immediately offered a formal greeting.
“I greet Your Grace, the Duke.”
At his stiff bow, Dominic waved it off, asking to have a conversation. Without waiting for a reply, Dominic started walking, and Kalian followed as if it were only natural.
Dominic entered one of the palace’s many empty rooms. He paced without sitting, as if pondering how to broach the subject.
But Kalian knew Dominic wasn’t one to stay silent when truly lost in thought. He’d sink into contemplation, then exhale deeply as if emerging from water, before speaking his sorted thoughts.
“Well, damn. How do you even bring up something like this?”
So this was an act, put on for show. Kalian couldn’t even guess what Dominic was about to say.
“Kalian.”
How long had he watched Dominic’s performance?
“I’m listening.”
And then Dominic delivered his line.
“Angela wants to break off the engagement with you.”
It was utter nonsense.
Angela, who was desperate to have Kalian, would never say such a thing. It hadn’t been long since she’d rushed out of the house, deceived by false rumors that Kalian had spoken of breaking the engagement. Her, of all people?
“That’s impossible.”
Kalian, momentarily stunned, regained his composure and spoke calmly. But Dominic seemed determined to unravel his reason entirely.
“She’ll send the annulment papers to the estate soon.”
An annulment… letter? A bitter smile tugged at Kalian’s lips.
Just moments ago, his fingertips had trembled at the thought of drafting a marriage proposal.
Even after reporting the looming threat of war to the Emperor, thinking of Angela sent a reckless thrill through him. But an annulment letter? What kind of cursed nonsense was this?
Though he knew the man before him was the benefactor who had brought him to the Wilton estate, Kalian’s thoughts grew increasingly hostile.
“I don’t understand why you’d tell such a lie.”
“Even if you don’t believe it, what can I do? It’s the truth, and I find it regrettable too.”
Just yesterday, they had held each other close, sharing warmth until their bodies seemed to meld into the same temperature. He couldn’t count how many times he fall for her .
And now, an annulment? Wasn’t it absurd to believe such a thing?
Kalian struggled to find any hint of deception in Dominic’s unwavering gaze. But Dominic stared back with a resolute intensity, as if nailing down the truth, his eyes not even blinking with the slightest trace of a lie.
“What’s the reason?”
Kalian couldn’t help but ask, his voice heavy with disbelief. Dominic laughed, as if it were the most foolish question he’d ever heard.
“When someone falls out of love, what reason is there in matters of the heart?”
The sound of Dominic’s laughter felt like it was tearing Kalian’s ears apart.
Why was he laughing? They hadn’t shared a single amusing word. There was nothing but pain in this moment—why, then…?
Realizing there was no point in continuing the conversation with Dominic’s attitude, Kalian drew a cold line.
“I’ll confirm it with her directly.”
His tone carried a defiance he’d never used with Dominic before. Yet, far from being offended, Dominic gestured toward the door, as if opening the way for him.
“If that’s what it takes for you to accept it, then go ahead. Do as you please.”
His demeanor suggested absolute certainty that nothing would change by going to Angela.
Why? Was the person who shared Kalian’s bed yesterday someone other than the Angela Dominic spoke of?
Such bizarre thoughts crept into Kalian’s mind.
But there was no way he could mistake Angela. Everything about her—the softness, the warmth—was unmistakably hers. Kalian had touched her smooth skin, kissed her full lips.
It had to be Dominic who was mistaken. Or… could it be Yvonne again? Yes, that was possible. It was likely.
Unable to sort through the chaotic jumble of thoughts, Kalian rushed out of the palace. For the first time, he realized how far the road to the Wilton estate truly was.
He finally understood how Angela must have felt, running blindly to find him, deceived by false rumors, not even knowing where she was going.
If the heavens had put him through this trial to understand her heart, he wanted to beg them to take it back now that he’d learned his lesson.
“What?”
Angela’s eyes widened as she spoke.
“What did you just say?”
She had to ask again, so unbelievable was the story she’d just heard from Beatrice’s lips.
“I-I said I want to prepare a birthday celebration for you, Sister.”
Beatrice had suddenly appeared in Angela’s room and blurted out this outrageous idea. After Yvonne’s visit, looking half-dead and leaving nearly broken, Angela thought it was now Beatrice’s turn. But the atmosphere was entirely different.
While Yvonne had come like a corpse on the brink of death, Beatrice stood there with a peach-blossom flush on her cheeks, spouting strange things. She could barely even say “Sister” clearly.
“It’s coming up soon, isn’t it? I want to plan it for you. I-I’ve never done anything sisterly for you before…”
Her head was bowed, her neck twisting awkwardly, yet Beatrice’s face was alight with anticipation as she called herself Angela’s sister.
Angela suddenly burst into sharp, mocking laughter, the sound escaping before she could stop it.
Once, she might have been a good sister if things had been like this. But now… things were different. Angela wasn’t Beatrice’s sister, and Beatrice wasn’t her sister. They didn’t share the same blood.
Angela, who had once called Beatrice’s lineage lowly, had ironically inherited that same lowly blood.
I’m not your sister.
She couldn’t say it. Instead, she offered words cloaked in feigned consideration.
“Why bother with all that?”
“It’s not a bother! I-I want to do it for you.”
Did Beatrice take it as kindness? Her headshake and waving hands carried a warm breeze.
“I said it’s fine. I don’t usually make a big deal out of it.”
You’re not my sister.
Unable to say it, she pushed forward another lie wrapped in pretense.
“But I want to do something for you, Sister.”
Beatrice hugged the words like a gift, offering a faint smile.
In the end, Angela gave in. She waved her hand, telling Beatrice to do as she pleased. Unlike Beatrice’s warm gestures, her wave carried a cold gust.
But then—
“Th-thank you! I’ll work really hard to prepare!”
Beatrice bloomed like a flower, smiling brightly. Angela, who had rarely seen her smile so freely, couldn’t understand why a mere birthday celebration warranted such joy.
After this birthday, Angela would no longer be here, one way or another. It felt like a celebration of that fact.
Unaware of this, Beatrice kept bowing to Angela, overwhelmed with gratitude for her acquiescence.
At that moment, the door flew open, and Kalian stormed in. His heavy footsteps carried an unusual weight.
Sensing the mood, Beatrice quickly excused herself, saying she’d leave them be. The door shut firmly behind her moments later.
Caught alone with Kalian in the sudden intimacy of the room, Angela looked up at him with startled eyes.
“What’s wrong? Why are you here so suddenly?”
Her clear face met his gaze, and Kalian’s throat bobbed heavily before he spoke. His voice poured out like molten lava, as if he’d swallowed something burning.
“Something absurd came up. I heard you want to break off our engagement.”
So, that news had reached him today.
“I know it’s nonsense, but it’s suffocating me. I had to see you to breathe again…”
Saying this, Kalian stepped closer, reaching to pull Angela into his arms. She answered by stepping back.
