Chapter 2.1 –  Thirty-two, Twenty-two 

Edmund Raspe. A Duke of the Empire, cousin to the Emperor. Perhaps the next Emperor himself.  

In front of him, praise for the beautiful power of the Empire was offered like tribute, but behind him hung curses built on fear.  

The Duke of Blood. Cursed by death, unable to love anything. All those infamous names were his other titles.  

“Duke Raspe, I am sick of you.”  

He had once been someone’s husband. Elia Roang… no, Elia Raspe, was his wife.  

But when Edmund was thirty-two and Elia twenty-eight, their eight-year marriage ended.  

With a single sheet of divorce papers Elia handed over.  

“Are you leaving?”  

“I’ll leave and never come back to you.”  

The two first met when Elia was two and Edmund was six.  

The child who never left her father’s arms was, in truth, already Edmund’s fiancée at that time.  

<Eddie. Eddii.>  

But there was no way he liked a child who only whined and followed him around calling him ‘Eddie’.  

Of course, even after Elia grew up, his feelings didn’t change.  

Her hair sparkling golden under sunlight, lips as bright as blood on clear skin—none of it meant anything to Edmund.  

Elia was merely a flower blooming in the garden.  

Edmund had never once praised a flower’s beauty. He simply passed by without even noticing.  

The only thing that ever caught Edmund’s attention was her eyes.  

<Hello, Edmund.>  

No one else dared to meet his gaze, but Elia always tried to look directly into Edmund’s eyes.  

Whenever she did, a single flower seemed to bloom in her autumn-colored eyes.  

Why was it only Elia? Was it because she was the only one who ever tried to meet his gaze?  

‘Because she was the only one, perhaps she became my only.’  

So whenever he had to think of his fiancée, Edmund thought only of Elia’s eyes.  

Even when everything about Elia became special to him, he always remembered her eyes first.  

Eyes like flowers, deep and red.  

‘At first, it was only the eyes, wasn’t it?’  

Her eyes were unique, but when did Elia herself become special?  

There was no need to look back. By the time Edmund realized his feelings, Elia was already his woman. The whole world called Edmund the only man for Elia.  

So even after realizing his feelings, Edmund’s outward behavior didn’t change. Only, from then on, he always kissed the skin around Elia’s eyes during their most passionate nights.  

With a desire to devour those beautiful eyes.  

Of course, Elia hated it.  

<Ugh. Wait, Eddie. That’s weird. It feels weird…>  

Sometimes, biting the skin around her eyes, he left a mark by mistake.  

Seeing blood trickle down her temple, Elia would cry, and Edmund, aroused by tears shed for him, would lose control like a madman.  

Like a man crazed by love, even knowing Elia saw it as nothing but venting, he would make her m*an and shudder.  

All those nights were nothing but duty for Elia. Driven by instinct, Edmund wanted to consume her in his passion.  

Yet, was there love? Had Elia ever loved Edmund?  

He wasn’t sure, but there were moments that lingered in his memory.  

<She has been visiting the Duchy quite often lately.>  

<Aren’t the two going to be married soon? She must be trying to get attached somehow, though I doubt it will work on the Duke.>  

When their marriage was being discussed in earnest, Elia was often brought to the Duchy by her brother, the Earl of Roang.  

<Elly, remember that novel you mentioned last time? It was interesting, maybe you should tell the Duke about it?>  

<…Forget it. He wouldn’t find it interesting.>  

<…Sorry. As you know, Elly is very shy…>  

Elia always dressed up like a forced flower, sat with a reluctant face, and left quickly. That was the extent of their relationship.  

Back then, Edmund had no interest, and Elia never spoke to him.  

But once, on a summer day, Elia, who had always finished her meals without complaint, suddenly asked about dinner.  

<Edmund, why is there always duck when I visit? Is there some rule that dinner at the Duchy must be duck?>  

Elia didn’t use any formal address with Edmund, even though he was a Duke and she was a Lady of the Earldom.  

Edmund didn’t care whether she was polite or rude—he wasn’t interested.  

<The butler asked what food you liked.> 

Elia spoke to Edmund as if they were having a friendly conversation, so Edmund answered without thinking.  

<I said that when you were little, you often ate duck here and seemed to like it.>  

After hearing his answer, Elia’s face turned as red as her eyes. Only then did Edmund really look at her face for the first time.  

The child who had grown up on her own was now a woman.  

For both Elia and Edmund, that day was probably the only truly special moment.  

Not long after, they married. Some worried Elia might refuse, but the wedding went ahead without trouble.  

If Elia had said she didn’t want to marry, if Edmund had seen the woman he thought was his trying to escape—  

Would he have realized his feelings sooner?  

There was no way to turn back time, so wondering was pointless.  

It was a meaningless regret.

❖ ❖ ❖

The day Elia, once the Duchess, left the mansion with divorce papers, heavy rain fell. Just like the day their parents died.  

And Elia, who abandoned Edmund, left for good to be with her parents, perhaps afraid he would chase after her.  

<Duke, Lady Elia’s carriage… it slipped in the rain…>  

A carriage accident. Why did even that have to be the same? Did the curse really fall on the Roang and Raspe families, as people said?  

Or was it punishment for the man who let go of the woman he loved?  

<Duke, the funeral arrangements… are complete.>  

Elia’s body, returned as a corpse, was in a terrible state. Normally, they wouldn’t show it to the husband, but Elia’s former spouse was Edmund Raspe.  

Unfeeling, cruel as a devil.  

So he could go to the underground stone chamber without anyone stopping him.  

The woman lying there was in the same place as her parents had been long ago. Her legs were crushed, one arm torn off, but to Edmund, she looked no different than usual.  

No matter how much they tried to fix her up, she was still hard to look at, but to Edmund, the woman who had been his wife was still beautiful. The corpse was imitating the living Elia quite well.  

Pretending to be alive, lying there.  

‘A normal husband would look at his dead wife and remember happy times together.’  

But Edmund, looking at her, remembered the nights. The way she cried from the heat, called his name while moaning. Ugly, really.  

He couldn’t help it. Those were the only memories he had.  

Edmund reached out to Elia’s cold face. They had covered her smashed face with paste and makeup, making it shine.  

He slowly moved his hand up to the skin around her eyes, where he often bit.  

‘Her eyes… are they gone too?’  

Were the eyes he coveted gone under those closed lids? Was the paste inside, like bugs eating away at her eyes?  

It didn’t matter. Edmund hadn’t loved Elia for her eyes alone.  

Her red eyes were special only because they were the only part of her that ever looked at him.  

<Edmund, I loved you. I did, but I can’t bear it anymore.>  

Standing before her corpse, he remembered her last words before leaving. A confession in the past tense. A feeling she couldn’t endure in the present.  

<You’re a fire. You devour everything, even my love, and never give it back. I was left holding only ashes.>  

She had given love, but received nothing in return.  

If he had denied it, could he have stopped her? Saved her from death?  

If he had confessed—  

That he really did love her, even if twisted by obsession, that his feelings were real—  

Would she have stayed?  

Elia.  

He called her name, looking at eyes that would never turn to him again.  

Elia…  

Calling out the love he missed at eighteen, the love he lost at thirty-two. He said her name again and again before her corpse.  

She never answered, and all he had left was a love he could never give to anyone else.  

He drew his sword. Then turned away. He couldn’t bear to spill blood on her. Instead, he aimed for the place that would hurt most.  

A foolish atonement, a punishment that would comfort only him, bringing no solace to the dead.  

It didn’t hurt much.  

He only regretted that, at the last moment, he wanted to see her again—but with his body bleeding out, he couldn’t turn his head.  

He regretted not being able to look at her one last time.  

“Lord Edmund, are you all right?”  

After terrible pain, when he woke again, before the butler who had died long ago appeared—  

He truly regretted it.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Butler, how old are you this year?”  

The Raspe Duchy’s butler answered calmly, even as his master sweated heavily.  

“Sixty, My Lord. In three years, it’ll be fifty years since I started working here.”  

Fifty years. The butler died after fifty years of service when Edmund was twenty-five. So now, Edmund was twenty-two.  

‘Is this a dream? Or not?’  

It was too vivid to be a dream, and yet… too sweet to be real.  

Back in the past, again.  

The butler who had died was alive, and Edmund was twenty-two. Then, Elia must be…  

Eighteen, maybe nineteen. Was she of age yet, or not?  

“…It’s quite chilly today.”  

“Yes, Sir. It was snowing just yesterday, wasn’t it? Even if it’s March, it seems too early to call it spring.”  

‘Elia’s birthday is in autumn. So she’s still eighteen. Eighteen…’  

Edmund tried to recall Elia’s appearance from ten years ago, imagine her living and moving.  

But of course, it wasn’t enough. He needed to see her with his own eyes.  

“I should go to the underground stone chamber.”  

“…Pardon?”  

Edmund left his bedroom in his nightclothes and headed for the underground chamber.  

The surprised butler hurried after him, smart enough to remember the key.  

“My Lord, I brought the key, so shall I open the door…?”  

Arriving a step late, the butler couldn’t finish his sentence. The iron door creaked open in Edmund’s hand.

“Lord Edmund, it may be the work of an intruder. I’ll report it to Sir Belzen right away.”

“There’s no need. Stay here and wait.”

Edmund took the lantern from the butler and entered the stone chamber alone. Passing the statues carved in the likeness of the dead, a wide space soon revealed itself.

Elia lay there, in the place where Edmund had closed his eyes.

But now, nothing remained. The scent of the chemicals used to clean the corpse, the woman who had lain with closed eyes—everything was gone, leaving the chamber empty.

‘It was all real, I’m sure of it.’

He carefully inspected the chamber. He swept his hand over the spot where Elia’s body had been placed, and looked into the pitch-black corners that had never seen light.

‘Yes. It was definitely… here.’

Finally, Edmund found the proof he sought.

The spot where he had turned away from Elia’s corpse and raised his sword—the dark stain of thick blood remained there. And on the blade… traces of death.

Perhaps it was the mark of an intruder. But Edmund chose to believe what he wanted.

That it wasn’t a dream. That he, who had died, had returned to a past where Elia was alive.

Edmund retraced his steps out of the chamber, returning to his usual composure.

‘Did you perhaps meet the late Duke and Duchess in your dream?’

The butler simply assumed the Duke had had a nightmare. Soon, the two returned to the bedroom as if nothing had happened.

“Butler, check why the chamber wasn’t locked. And, about Elia…”

“Oh, you mean the Lady of Earl Roang’s house. I saw her yesterday after a long time, and it struck me—she really is nearly of age now.”

“Duck was served as the main dish.”

“Yes, you once said Lady Elia would like it. She finished everything yesterday, so the kitchen staff were quite pleased.”

Even in the butler’s voice, Elia was alive. Not as the lady of the house, but as the daughter of Roang.

She was alive…

“Serve something different next time. And have the carriage ready immediately.”

“Yes, when Lady Elia visits next, we’ll prioritize the popular dishes among the noble houses these days…”

“I’ll ask her myself about her tastes.”

“Pardon?”

He walked to the side of the room where the washbasin was prepared. In the clear water, the face of his twenty-two-year-old self was reflected.

Twenty-two. Because he had returned ten years to the past, everything—his cousin’s ascent to the throne, the annihilation of those who killed his parents—had all been undone.

“I’ll go and see for myself.”

And how delightful that was.

‘Elia, if you loved even the past version of me, then I’m confident I can have you now.’

The eighteen-year-old Elia he regained would, in the end, become Edmund’s wife. She would become his woman, giving love that would never be returned.

So, this time, he would make it impossible for her to give up.

‘I won’t be satisfied just knowing you’re alive. Elia. Even if you run away to death, you’ve come back to me like this. This time, even if I must take everything from you, even if I lose everything, I’ll do whatever it takes. So you’ll never even think of leaving me again.’

This time, he would devour her completely.