A Reversal of Unrequited Love - Chapter 56
Fri.
Until now, I thought of myself as separate from the group of perpetrators. I believed I had no guilt. I thought I had only recently committed a sin and had no responsibility for the madam’s death.
But I was wrong.
I was just turning a blind eye, but I was also a perpetrator. I had a dream that forced me to acknowledge this.
In the nightmare, I returned to the day I had a private audience with the madam.
『“His Highness said he never embraced you.”
“He did.”
“He even confirmed that he did not consummate the marriage.”
“I did not commit adultery!”』
I arrogantly and presumptuously cornered the madam. Despite her genuine grievances, I did not fathom the depth of her emotions. Even though I thought I should stop, I foolishly continued to speak, verbally slicing her soul with an invisible blade.
I woke up from the dream just before the head maid appeared. I was drenched in cold sweat.
Feeling like I would go mad if I continued to lie there, I grabbed a horse and left Bremlin. I wanted to be away from the castle, even if just for a while.
I rode to the village just below Bremlin, then to the next village, and the one after that until I found a chapel. When I entered, a priest was praying devoutly.
I requested a confession and spoke of two sins.
One was the sin of lying to the bereaved family of someone who died in injustice.
The other was a sin I had been desperately ignoring until now.
I will confess my sin here as well. Having already confessed to the priest, what does it matter?
I, Jeremy Rills, once visited Bremlin on the Duke’s orders. As I left the castle, I was certain.
That the madam’s winter would be harsh.
I accurately predicted that it would be extremely difficult.
But I hated her so much for betraying (as I misunderstood) my master that I left, ignoring that bleak future.
That is my sin.
By a twist of fate, I encountered His Highness on my way back from the confession. We unexpectedly met in an alley in the village just below Bremlin Castle.
His Highness looked terribly haggard under the sunlight. It was shocking, like I was struck by lightning.
I knew that since the funeral, His Highness had been half-starving himself. But I couldn’t bring myself to force him to eat.
I didn’t realize it was this serious. He looked like a dead man walking.
Soon, I was filled with dread.
Near the alley where His Highness stood, some women were gossiping about the madam by the well. I had anticipated rumors spreading far and wide since the maids in Bremlin were already gossiping.
The women speculated that the madam was weak-hearted or that the child was born frail because she was from the capital.
When His Highness tried to move, I blocked his path. If he killed them all, it would be uncontrollable. Despite my fear, I dared to offer advice.
I said that misunderstanding based on partial information is human nature.
I admit, it was partially directed at His Highness.
I spoke harshly, thinking that only by digging into his wounds could I hold him back. Though I was not proud of those words.
His Highness staggered but still tried to approach the women. I blocked him again and said,
Your Highness has lost your voice,
and those women cannot read.
It would be surprising if any of them were literate. Pointing this out, His Highness looked at me as if he was expecting me to correct them.
I did not move.
Even though the madam’s face from the dream lingered before my eyes.
Thus, we erased our sin from the rumors.
His Highness looked utterly devastated. He hung his head with a broken expression. After a long silence, he finally muttered silently.
I read his lips and understood exactly what he said. For the first time, my guilt, dying conscience, and emotions within my reason did their job.
His Highness said,
She is misunderstood even in death.
It was a statement that perfectly pierced the absurdity of the situation. As soon as I understood, I pondered.
Should I approach the women now and correct them, confessing that we had wronged the madam greatly? I considered it deeply,
But in the end, I did not. I was not as brave as His Highness.
I escorted His Highness back to Bremlin. This time, I begged him to have dinner, and His Highness invited me to the banquet. To my honor, only me.
His Highness ate a very small amount. So little that a sparrow would starve if it ate like that.
As I finished my meal, I quietly spoke.
I conveyed exactly what the priest had told me. That even if there seems to be no opportunity for atonement now, a chance will come with time. I suggested we wait until then.
Upon hearing this, His Highness gave a crooked smile.
Then he picked up a pen and wrote a short reply. I took the paper with His Highness’s handwriting, which he used for written communication. I will transcribe it here and then burn it.
[“I know what it feels like to be left alone in the world.”]
It is Bremlin’s sin. It is the North’s sin.
Did we not silently watch His Highness’s misfortune without intervening at that time?
[“And I imposed that feeling on the woman carrying my child.”]
There are sins in this world that can never be forgiven. Like r*pe that destroys a person’s dignity, murder that takes a life, and adultery that betrays a spouse with whom vows were exchanged. Everyone has a line they cannot forgive.
For example, my Father could never forgive a swindler. He was deceived by a friend he truly trusted.
There was also a sin that His Highness could never forgive. The problem was that His Highness himself committed that sin. Although it was not intentional, the result was the same.
That is His Highness’s greatest misfortune.
Are you watching, madam?
You were wise.
SAT-SUN
From now on, this is a recollection.
It is a record of the two most confusing days of my life, and in a sense, it can be considered a letter without a recipient or a will, as it contains my last words.
Since I am reflecting on events from a season ago, I will try to exclude emotions and state only the facts concisely.
Around 3 a.m., a fire broke out in Bremlin.
The weather had been warm, and all the accumulated snow had melted, making it very difficult to control the flames. By the time we managed to put it out, half of it had already burned down.
I entered the castle a bit late after directing the people. In front of the hall, which had turned to ashes, people were gathered and murmuring.
A portrait of the couple had been hanging there, but only the madam’s side was intact, while the Duke’s side was torn to shreds.
It was a sight enough to fuel nonsense about the madam’s ghost setting the castle on fire and her curse beginning. I had to exhaust myself further by catching the idiots who were spreading exaggerated stories.
Immediately after, I reported the aftermath and situation to His Highness. And then.
I bluntly asked if he had damaged the portrait.
His Highness confirmed it. He admitted to setting the castle on fire and tearing his face out of the portrait.
I knew the truth that His Highness had gone mad.
I was just desperately ignoring reality, believing that time would heal all wounds. I tried to step back, pretending not to know as much as possible.
But I witnessed it then.
His Highness’s half-destroyed left hand. While his right hand was intact, presumably for written communication, his left hand was completely disfigured, possibly from being burned.
When I was left speechless and just stared blankly, His Highness shrugged. Then he roughly wrote something like, ‘It certainly hurts when your hand is ruined.’
It was only after I left the room in a daze that I remembered. Shortly after the baby was born, there were rumors that the madam’s fingertips were necrotic. I don’t know if those rumors were true, but one thing is certain.
His Highness has become a wreck.
He is broken beyond repair.
From now on, His Highness will continue to self-harm. I don’t know how far His Highness’s madness will spread. As soon as I was engulfed in such thoughts, I ran outside.
Just as I found some peace after my confession, I hoped that His Highness would also find some comfort through confession.
I wished for His Highness’s nights to be a little more peaceful.
I respectfully brought a priest, but His Highness refused to confess. I don’t remember the long sentences he wrote exactly, but it was something like this.
Confession is originally a ritual to speak out and acknowledge one’s sins, but it is unnecessary for someone who already knows their sins. Even if I confess, the sins won’t disappear, he seemed to say.
Despite our repeated persuasion, His Highness was adamant. After several attempts, the priest asked me to deliver a wildflower to His Highness.
It was an erentis flower, blooming widely in the fields.
I have no knowledge of flowers, so I don’t know the meaning of erentis’s flower. I don’t know what the priest wanted to convey through the wildflowers or what His Highness felt. (Although I have some guesses, I will not add my personal opinions.)
I don’t know what emotions His Highness felt, but suddenly, really suddenly, he asked me a question.
He asked if the letter sent to the royal family had been properly delivered and if it was safely on its way to the capital. The question came so unexpectedly that I couldn’t manage my expression.
His Highness noticed.
He realized that the letter was not safe. He even understood that I had dared to deceive him. At that moment, I was prepared to die, but His Highness just smiled.
It was such a shocking—and thus memorable—smile that I remember it clearly. His Highness definitely smiled. It was faint, as if it would soon disappear. It was a smile full of fatigue, but it was definitely a smile.
And then His Highness, while scribbling the sentence that Mrs Seina (I remember her as the nanny of the late Duchess) also cherished her baby the most, suddenly stopped. I don’t know why that sentence came out.
I regret it.
I should have realized what we, the North, took from His Highness. We were foolish and stupid. Pathetic and selfish.
So we ended up taking away even the opportunity for atonement that His Highness quietly waited for. Perhaps His Highness was waiting for the royal family’s judgment. I can’t help but speculate, adding my personal opinion.
I was so intoxicated by the bewildering miracle of surviving when I should have died that I couldn’t see into His Highness’s heart. A heart that was crumbling with despair, disillusionment, sorrow, and guilt.
When I was ordered to send the priest away, I just left the room with a deep sense of relief.
I committed the sin of not thinking deeply. I committed that great sin twice. Thus, I couldn’t understand His Highness’s feelings towards the madam, and I couldn’t understand His Highness’s feelings after losing the madam.
The weather was particularly mysterious that day.
It had been a warm winter since the madam’s death, but that night, it suddenly became cold. As soon as I escorted the priest to the chapel, a heavy snowfall began, and we were stranded.
The priest kindly offered to let me stay for a while, and I gratefully accepted. It was an extremely cold night. Even as a native of the North, it was the first time I experienced such cold. The sound of the wind outside was so terrifyingly loud that I couldn’t sleep.
Finally, when I returned to Bremlin Castle the next morning, the castle was in an uproar. His Highness had disappeared.
The people of the North know that going out in such cold is a suicidal act. So it was even more chaotic.
We continued searching with faint hope until early spring arrived.
His Highness did not return.
This morning, I met with His Majesty and confessed the truth.
How the madam ended up buried in the cold ground. What His Highness’s misunderstanding was. Thus, what the sin of the North was. I confessed everything, including the abuse committed by the red-haired woman long ago and the act of the aide who dared to intercept the letter.
The royal family’s anger was intense,
and it was also justifiable.
I will be executed tomorrow morning.
I will fall straight into hell. It is my last unwavering belief, and it’s not a future I particularly want to escape. My life up to now hasn’t been particularly remarkable. I was an unqualified aide who neither served my master properly nor was perfectly loyal.
Those I need to atone to are no longer in this world. I can only hope to apologize even in death.
Jeremy Rills
* * *
The man died painfully.
Only the cold wind sweeping across the snowy field scattered the desperate wishes of the dead.
May spring come to her again.
May that spring be eternally warm…
Extra Side Story (End)
<Continued in [Side Story: On a Warm Spring Day]>