Chapter 153: Crossed Hearts
Damian took out the letter only after he had finished all his tasks and was left alone in his study.
He carefully retrieved the letter, which he had treasured like a precious artifact, tucked deep inside a drawer. It was none other than the one Aracila had written for him on his birthday.
To honor her instruction to read it alone, he had waited several days even after the birthday had passed.
Now, with no interruptions possible, he intended to read her letter with a reverent heart and posture.
‘I wonder what words my lady has penned for me.’
With a sense of keen anticipation, he unfolded the paper, taking care not to crease it.
「To Damian.
Damian, it feels like it’s been ages since I last wrote you a letter.
Do you remember the first one I sent? Back then, I never imagined we’d spend all four seasons together like this.
The time we’ve shared from spring to winter has been quite eventful, whether because of you or me.
Not that I disliked it—thanks to that, I think we’ve both grown a lot.
Thinking back to how we were at the beginning, wary and disliking each other, it’s truly astonishing where we are now, isn’t it?
I have so much to thank you for. I’m grateful that you’re always the first to apologize, and that you stayed by my side to keep me from crumbling when I was struggling.
I never imagined someone would enter my life so deeply.
But when I was expelled from the Tower, it would have been really tough without you. I might have gone mad, set the Tower on fire, and ended up arrested—who knows.
Thank you sincerely for helping me avoid the path of a criminal.
I’ve learned and gained so much through you. I hope the same is true for you. Well, since I’m exceptionally capable in so many ways, I’m sure it has been.
Does that sound a bit arrogant? Honestly, as you read that line above, you probably thought it was arrogant, right?
Forgive me. The truth is, I’m not particularly gifted at writing. I’m the type who expresses feelings better through words spoken aloud and actions rather than on paper.
Trying to write seriously makes my words veer off in all directions. Suddenly, I regret not keeping it to just one line like you did.
You are the only knight I respect.
That would have sounded pretty cool. But I’m not one to follow what others do.
Anyway, ultimately, there are just two things I want to say.
We met out of mutual need, but now I think we’ve become something like friends. So let’s keep getting along well from here on.
I’ll do my part, so you do yours too.
Happy birthday, Damian.
P.S.
Oh, right, my birthday is in spring.
I’ll pretend not to expect much, but secretly hope for a little something.
– From Aracila.」
Damian, who had slowly read through the letter, couldn’t hold back the upward curl of his lips. He covered his mouth with his large hand, chuckling softly.
How had she managed to write a letter that was so perfectly like her?
The content of this first long letter from her was utterly endearing and so quintessentially Aracila that Damian kept breaking into giggles.
His golden eyes traced back to the passages he particularly liked, rereading them repeatedly. He was so absorbed that he didn’t even notice the red glow of the sunset entering and fading through the window behind him.
‘This is really a problem.’
Afraid it might get damaged, he couldn’t bring himself to refold it and instead placed the fully open sheet carefully back into the drawer, pondering seriously.
Receiving a letter like this made it feel as though there was truly something between her and him.
In the letter, Aracila had said they had become friends. It sounded far sweeter and more affectionate than a contract couple who would part ways and never see each other again.
Enough to make him fearful of harboring vain desires.
He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Though he couldn’t become her true family, at least it was a relief that Aracila seemed content with the present.
For the time being, he was part of her future, and she had no intention of ending their sham marriage just yet.
That fact alone filled Damian with immense joy and satisfaction.
As he savored a beast-like sense of fullness from the extended time they would share, his gaze suddenly fell on a pen and paper.
‘Hmm, perhaps I should write a reply.’
The neat, deliberate handwriting in the letter showed clear effort. To reciprocate that sincerity, it seemed right to send a simple response.
Damian pulled out the most expensive and finest white paper he possessed and began writing, deliberating over each character.
That he was truly grateful too, that he owed her a great deal, that he had learned and grown much thanks to her, that he would certainly do his best, and that he hoped they could continue getting along for a long, long time.
For the postscript, he wrote playfully, like hers: pretending to prepare something grand, but actually something small. Of course, it was in jest.
When Aracila’s birthday came next spring, Damian intended to give everything he had to offer her the most beautiful day possible.
Since there wasn’t much he could do for her, he had to make the most of the opportunities given.
‘I wish winter would pass quickly.’
Though it was only early winter, Damian shamelessly urged the seasons onward.
Already excited at the thought of welcoming a second spring with Aracila, there came a knock at the study door.
“Master, dinner preparations are complete.”
The butler announced from beyond the door. Damian replied that he understood and slipped the letter into his jacket’s inner pocket, planning to hand it to Aracila when they met in the dining hall.
He descended with a subtle smile on his face, curious about her reaction to receiving his reply.
“You’re here, Damian?”
Today, Aracila was already seated and greeted him calmly.
“Yes, my lady.”
Conscious of the letter in his breast pocket, Damian tried to act naturally. Because of that, he failed to notice the strangely somber cast to Aracila’s expression and took his seat across from her.
Silence enveloped the table. As the dishes were served one by one, Damian wrestled inwardly with a fierce dilemma.
Should he give her the letter now, or after the meal?
He was still hesitating, not even touching his utensils despite the food being fully served, when it happened.
“Damian, I have something to say.”
Aracila broke the silence. Only then did Damian direct his gaze fully to her face and nod.
“Go ahead.”
“I’ve been officially named as the successor by the Tower Master. The formal announcement is set for next week, but I’m telling you ahead of time.”
“Is that true?”
Damian’s eyes widened in astonishment. Hadn’t she said becoming the Tower Master was her lifelong dream? The fact that she had achieved it filled him with a thrill and excitement as if it were his own.
Still oblivious to the unusual calmness in her demeanor, he broke into a broad smile and offered his congratulations.
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
“This calls for a celebration—shouldn’t we throw a party? I’ll arrange it.”
Seizing what he saw as an unexpectedly early chance to repay her, Damian eagerly stepped forward. But Aracila shook her head firmly.
It felt overly extravagant, and besides, she wasn’t in the mood.
“It’s fine. We can hold one after I’ve officially become Tower Master; it won’t be too late then.”
“Is that so? If that’s your wish, then very well.”
Only now detecting the slight dip in Aracila’s voice, Damian acquiesced without protest. He wondered if she simply wasn’t inclined toward a party.
Still, wanting to celebrate her properly, he pondered and proposed an alternative.
“How about a celebratory toast instead?”
“Is that feasible? For someone who can’t hold his liquor?”
Aracila let out a soft chuckle, vividly recalling how his face had flushed after barely half a glass during their wedding night.
Rather than refute her, Damian summoned a servant to bring out the wine.
“One glass drunk in joy won’t intoxicate me.”
“Hmm, I doubt that.”
“See for yourself.”
Damian filled their glasses halfway and extended his first. Aracila willingly raised hers to meet it.
The clear chime of glass against glass resonated. As she slowly savored and swallowed the wine in her mouth, Aracila organized the tangled thoughts in her mind.
In truth, she still had more to say to Damian. Yet the words refused to come easily.
Glancing across at him, Aracila suddenly burst into laughter. With just one sip, Damian’s face was already turning a vivid red.
“Damian, did you know your face right now looks like an apple just starting to ripen?”
“It’s only my face like this; I’m not drunk.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Didn’t I say? A glass taken in sheer delight over good news won’t make one tipsy.”
The smooth flow of his voice caused Aracila’s lips to twitch involuntarily. Being named the next Tower Master was purely good news for her alone.
Seeing him express joy as if it were his own stirred a fresh wave of turmoil within her. Fiddling with the sleek surface of her glass, Aracila finally spoke.
“…Damian, about that.”
“Yes.”
“When do you think our contract will end?”
Damian, who had just placed his hand over his chest, blinked slowly. Even though it couldn’t possibly be intoxication setting in already, his movements felt sluggish.
Asking when the contract would end was tantamount to inquiring about divorce. It was a question that wouldn’t arise unless Aracila desired a swift separation.
Grasping this, Damian’s hand dropped limply. It felt as though someone had doused him with icy water from above.
While I dream of a future together, you’ve been waiting for the parting.
This came at the very moment he had been about to pull out the letter to give to her. He had wanted to share his resolve to do right by her, now that she had realized her dream.
But on second thought, what use would that be to Aracila?
Fundamentally, they were bound by a contract of mutual interest, and he had already confirmed multiple times that his presence obstructed her path.
In that case, what she desired most must be to part from him as soon as possible…
‘What a fool I’ve been, getting carried away like this?’
Damian clenched his fist tightly. He felt relieved that he hadn’t yet retrieved the letter. Such a reply wouldn’t be needed by Aracila anyway.
Regaining a state of utmost rationality, he lowered his gaze and stated calmly.
“We’re diligently searching for Grandfather’s will at present. One fortunate aspect is that the ducal side hasn’t obtained it yet either. If our marriage seems like it might hinder your path to becoming Tower Master—”
Damian urged himself to think only in terms favorable to Aracila, for her sake.
Even so, the following words caught in his throat for a moment before emerging.
“Then… you can simply dissolve the marriage; it won’t matter.”
Aracila, who had been staring fixedly at the innocent food, lifted her head in shock.
Inheriting the dukedom had been the condition for divorce, yet he was saying it was fine to break the contract beforehand.
Sensing the sincerity in Damian’s unwavering eyes, Aracila responded in confusion.
“What if you end up not inheriting the dukedom because of that?”
“The likelihood of that is nearly zero now. The bastard issue puts Oscar at a greater disadvantage, and in any case, I’ve already fulfilled the condition of marrying Marquis Hugo’s granddaughter once.”
Even if they divorced tomorrow, the fact of his marriage to her wouldn’t vanish. With Oscar now having no chance of meeting the will’s terms, Damian was in a far more advantageous position.
And if the will couldn’t be found, it was still fine—the emperor knew its contents. They had the most powerful witness possible.
The corners of Damian’s mouth curved into a smooth arc. Aracila stared blankly at his picture-perfect smile.
“So don’t worry about me; just focus ahead and chase your long-cherished dream.”
“…….”
“I have no intention whatsoever of becoming an obstacle to you, my lady. That would be a breach of our contract, after all.”
Damian’s low, resonant voice was pleasing to the ear, yet Aracila felt a pang of soreness in one corner of her heart.
As if this wasn’t the answer she had truly wanted, a stifling tightness gripped her chest.
“I’ll grant the divorce whenever you wish. Just say the word.”
“…Understood. Thank you.”
Aracila managed to force out a reply. Though her concern had been resolved, no sense of relief followed.
Both continued the meal in a state of unease, enveloped in a remarkably uncomfortable silence.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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