Chapter 122
From the moment he was summoned to the Crown Prince’s bedroom, Kalian had suspected the conversation wouldn’t be an easy exchange. He had also guessed to some extent that it would involve Angela.
“I hear Angela has awakened.”
Even so, he hadn’t expected Ian to mention news that hadn’t been announced publicly. He had strictly ordered the estate’s staff to keep silent, but it seemed there was a leak somewhere.
“Have you planted a spy in my household?”
Kalian retorted sharply, like someone whose vulnerability had been exposed. It was information he wanted to keep secret for as long as possible, if he could.
“How long were you planning to hide it?”
Kalian didn’t answer. There could be no clearer response in the world.
“Ha, so you intended to keep hiding it forever?”
Ian, his temper flaring, raised his voice.
“You know full well how worried I am—how could you do this, Count!”
Around the time Angela had been unconscious for about a week, Ian began suffering from nightmares every night. They were dreams of the day he had heard the news of her falling into an eternal sleep in a distant land.
Fearing it might happen again, he eventually grew afraid to sleep and started staying up all night with his eyes wide open.
To think that Kalian had planned to keep the news of Angela’s awakening hidden until the very last moment from someone like him—it was cruel. Ian wondered if it was Satan himself sitting before him, not Kalian.
Yet, even as Ian fumed and glared with menacing eyes, Kalian maintained his silence. A frustrating stillness lingered.
In the end, Ian had no choice but to speak again. It was like a thirsty man digging a well. If he didn’t hear Kalian’s true intentions, it would be Ian whose insides would burst.
“Why don’t you at least offer some excuse?”
Ian drained the teacup between them in one gulp and pressed him through gritted teeth. Even so, those firmly sealed lips showed no sign of opening.
“Count Florence!”
Bang! Ian slammed the table. It was with such force that Kalian’s untouched teacup overflowed, and the teapot lid rattled. Despite all that, Kalian didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.
The straight line of his lips on that cool face only moved after Ian, unable to hold back any longer, finally played the card of a threat.
“I’ll go see Angela myself. Lock the estate’s gates if you want—I’ll open them by imperial decree.”
Ian turned his gaze away from Kalian, as if to say go ahead and try. Only then did Kalian’s lips part. In the end, grinding his teeth, Kalian revealed the circumstances.
“…Angela has lost her memories.”
Ian’s gaze, which had briefly left Kalian, immediately returned to him.
“Count, ha ha, are you mocking me right now? What kind of nonsense is this? This is lese-majeste.”
Even knowing there was no falsehood in those dark eyes, Ian deliberately let out an exaggerated false laugh. All the while, he hoped for a hint of playfulness to creep onto Kalian’s stern face.
However, as if mocking Ian’s vain hope, the emotion that surfaced on Kalian’s expression was anguish.
“It’s because of me. I wished for it.”
As Ian listened to Kalian’s confession, his complexion gradually paled. Gods and wishes and all that—he couldn’t care less.
The fact that she had forgotten him, after all those long years together, wasn’t that important. And the same would go for Kalian sitting there in front of him. Whether she forgot him or not wasn’t the big issue.
“I asked to erase the unhappy memories… and Angela forgot herself.”
Yes, that was the most crucial problem. That Angela no longer remembered even her own name. That her life had been proven to be nothing but misery in this way—that was the issue.
“If all her memories were nothing but torment, I want her to live on like this, having forgotten them.”
Ian could no longer continue speaking. It was because he himself had the same thought as Kalian. If they were only painful memories, what good would it do to revive them?
“I want to leave for Bildiem. It would be good to go there and live quietly.”
Angela disliked commotion. So perhaps, as Kalian said, that was the best course. But…
“But now, Angela must become the Duke of Bilton.”
Kalian spoke as if reading Ian’s innermost thoughts. He was right. Angela was no longer just Angela. It wasn’t merely about the title.
Angela was a war hero. The soldiers who remembered that day’s events were more than a handful, and the news had already reached the ears of Emperor Truga. If he learned Angela had awakened, he would summon her to the palace immediately. To witness that mysterious ability with his own eyes.
“So.”
A faint smile hovered on Kalian’s face.
“My mind changes a dozen times a day. I think she should know what she needs to know, but then when I see Angela smiling, I want to hide it for as long as I can.”
It was an expression that conveyed more torment than if he had exposed his suffering directly. Gazing quietly at that face, this time it was Ian who held his silence.
* * *
“Umm, then….”
It was always Kalian’s role to tell her various stories about Angela. But with Kalian away from the estate today, Angela had gathered the maids who were said to have been close to her and was in the midst of questioning them.
Several questions had already been exchanged. Things like what food she liked best, what style of clothes she often wore, what kind of perfume she used—questions that the maids would know better than Kalian.
The maids answered her inquiries without hesitation, confirming they had indeed been on friendly terms with Angela. Mary was especially quick with her responses. Even though it wasn’t a quiz game, she raised her hand first every time and rattled off answers smoothly. They were always perfect scores.
And for the next question, it was Mary who raised her hand the fastest again.
“Was I always on good terms with Kalian?”
Of course, even without asking, it seemed the answer would be yes. She could tell just from the way Kalian treated her.
He handled her as if she were made of glass that might shatter if dropped, practically attending to her every need. She had only been unconscious, not injured in her limbs, yet whenever they went somewhere, he insisted on carrying her in his arms.
Telling him not to didn’t help. Everything she ate had to pass through his hands first, and drying her wet hair was his job too.
It was hard to tell if he was her fiancé or her servant—he was utterly smitten with anything Angela. There were plenty of moments that were embarrassing for others to witness, but if asked whether she liked it or not, of course she did. Besides, everyone at the estate seemed accustomed to this Kalian and that Angela.
“Totally!”
Mary replied with her impressive voice.
“So much that you’d often disappear together, leaving just Mary behind!”
“Hm?”
Disappear? Angela perked up her ears at the unfamiliar word.
“I used to run around looking for you two when you vanished, but the older sisters told me I shouldn’t, so now I’m holding back.”
“Umm?”
Angela tilted her head, increasingly puzzled by the words whose true meaning eluded her. Her gaze shifted to Jo and Hilda, sitting side by side next to Mary. Her eyes stared at them intently, as if demanding they explain what this meant.
But they just looked back at Angela with hehe—kind, good-natured smiles, offering no other response. That’s when Mary clapped her hands sharply, drawing their attention.
“Ah! I overheard the knights talking about it too—how you two were so close that you kissed for so long in the training grounds that everyone had to wait outside for hours… Eep!”
Jo clamped her hand over Mary’s mouth. But it felt like it was too late. Angela had already heard everything.
Realizing belatedly what Mary meant by the two of them disappearing together, Angela twisted a strand of hair that had fallen to the side and stared off into the distance.
“Eh, pu, puha, why, why?”
Mary, shaking her head to finally escape Jo’s grip, looked at them with an innocent face. But no one met her eyes directly.
This seemed like something to address with Kalian when he returned. Just how often had he whisked Angela away for that naive little Mary to say such things?
And she needed to thoroughly check what exactly he had been up to when he took her away. Since she had no memories herself. Angela sharply lifted her chin.
* * *
Even long after sending Kalian away, Ian remained seated at the table where they had faced each other, then suddenly stood up, kicking his chair back with urgency—it toppled over.
“Cecil!”
At Ian’s call, Cecil hurried over to him.
“Yes, yes. Cecil is here, Your Highness. Why are you calling for me like that?”
Though he had summoned him breathlessly, Ian grabbed Cecil’s arms tightly and said nothing else. His face was full of悩み.
Cecil stood obediently, waiting for Ian. It was right after Count Florence had come and gone. It was only natural for Cecil to assume Ian’s mind couldn’t be at ease.
But was it a misunderstanding on Cecil’s part?
“Cecil, prepare a ring. The highest quality.”
Ian suddenly spouted nonsense.
“A r-ring?”
“Yes, a ring. The size is….”
Ian examined his own hand, clenching and unclenching it delicately. Then he spread his thumb and index finger in the air to indicate the length.
“This big.”
Cecil asked in disbelief.
“What are you planning to use a top-grade ring for?”
“I’m going to propose.”
“Aaah, a proposal riiing? Y-yes?”
Cecil stared at Ian with an expression that said this was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. But Ian looked back at Cecil with utmost confidence, thrusting forward the fingers he’d been holding apart since earlier.
“Who are you suddenly proposing to?”
Cecil stepped back as if the Crown Prince’s hand were something filthy, questioning him accusingly. He even raised his arms in a defensive posture, though no punch was coming.
“Angela, who else?”
Ian, as if annoyed at having to state the obvious, grabbed Cecil’s hand and forced it against his finger joint to imprint the desired length.
“This size, got it? Remember it well and go.”
“What about the type of gem? The design? You’re not telling me anything and just sending me off?”
“Ah.”
Ian, who had been all excited about ordering a proposal ring, froze with a dumb expression. Seizing the moment, Cecil began pressing him.
“Did Count Florence say he was breaking off the engagement with Lady Bilton earlier? Why suddenly a proposal ring? Didn’t we see every day on the battlefield how solid things are between those two? You’ll obviously get rejected, right?”
Ian raised a finger at Cecil, who was pinpointing only the facts. He opened his mouth in that pose, but since everything was true, he had no rebuttal.
Trembling with frustration, Ian finally lowered his hand, gritted his teeth, and jerked his chin. Meaning there was a way, so just go get the ring made. With that, Ian turned and stomped back into his room, his footsteps echoing loudly.
His irritated demeanor was obvious, so Cecil had no desire to follow him in. But he couldn’t just go make the ring like this either.
“S-so, what’s the plan then? Can’t I know too? What about the ring design? How should the decorations be? Your Highness? Your Highness Ian?”
Cecil’s lonely voice echoed faintly down the corridor.
