A few days had passed since the funeral.
The servants had all left, and the mansion now exuded a bleak, desolate atmosphere. Yet Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to leave—she was waiting for Burkhardt. So she stayed in the Count’s room, the only one that still felt remotely like a proper living space.

She still couldn’t believe she had reunited with Burkhardt. Maybe it had all been a figment of her imagination, something she had conjured up herself.
Even so, she wanted to believe.
Yes—if Burkhardt truly was the one who defied death, then it wouldn’t be too late to die after confirming it.

She needed to gather her emotions and go to him. He had told her to wait, but she couldn’t.
She longed to see him—whether to apologize or to explain herself, she didn’t care.
And after that… would he forgive her?

The thought was so overwhelming, her body felt drained of all strength.

Through the open window, the breeze carried the fresh scent of grass and the sweet fragrance of flowers.
Ah… was it the season when the Luella blossoms bloomed?

Outside, the spring-lit fields were slowly being dyed by the warm glow of the setting sun—just like those days when she had been happy with Burkhardt. The flowers bloomed the same each year, and yet… how had her own circumstances changed so completely?

Elizabeth’s lips trembled as she recalled the memories.

“Beth. From now on, it’s just the two of us—we must rely on each other. I’ll always be on your side. If things get hard, lean on me.”

It had been the day she lost her parents. In a world where only the two of them remained, Burkhardt had spoken in a calm voice, though his eyes were bloodshot. He had curled his fingertips into his palm, pretending to be unaffected.

Seeing his faintly trembling hands, Elizabeth could feel the weight of his heart.

Elizabeth understood his heart so well that they could share their feelings with nothing more than a glance. Since Burkhardt had been as close to her parents as she was, he too must have grieved the sudden parting. Yet he never showed his sorrow—he only sought to comfort her. Perhaps the weight of responsibility and the fear of the future outweighed his sadness.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you a proper wedding. But instead, I’ll live my whole life for you.”

On the day they vowed to become husband and wife without a ceremony, Burkhardt, stiff with nervousness, declared those words to her as if making a solemn promise. His confession was clumsy, yet so heartfelt that she felt as though she were floating on clouds.

When she teasingly replied, “Just words?” and saw the flush spread all the way to his ears, she couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he looked.

They were poor—but they were happy.

Perhaps it had only been Elizabeth who felt happy.
Burkhardt had always been troubled that he couldn’t even give her a proper gift. Their poverty had never been his fault. It was only after she became the Countess of Orte that she learned how the merchant who supplied their herbs had been cheating them out of money—and how furious that knowledge made her.

“Beth, I’ve found a way. Mercenaries in the war earn a lot. I’ll go and make the money for us. If they’ve decided to frame us, no matter how much we tell the truth, they won’t believe us. Let’s pay them off and move to another territory.”

Hadn’t they promised that, together, they could overcome anything? Hadn’t they sworn never to betray each other?

He should have come to reproach Elizabeth for breaking that promise—not now, when her body was in ruins, but back when she was still relatively whole… yes, even right after she had married the Count.

If she hadn’t betrayed him, would their family have been happy?
Well… that was something she could never be certain of.

Suddenly, she remembered something Burkhardt had once said, his voice brimming with excitement and his smile brighter than ever.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but… I’ve already chosen a name for our child. Our child’s name will be…”

Thud—!

The sound of a door opening yanked Elizabeth out of her happy memories. The mansion was supposed to be empty. She had received no notice, so there was no reason for an outsider to enter.

A jolt of fear ran through her, and she glanced around nervously. At some point, night had fallen, and the darkness was so deep she could barely make out the shapes of things.

“Is anyone here—?”

A strange man’s voice rang out, loud and commanding.

Elizabeth had lived through this kind of moment before.

It was not long after Burkhardt had departed as a mercenary to the war.
On a quiet night, the Count’s knights had suddenly forced their way in—just like now.

Holding her breath, Elizabeth hid beside the bed, pretending no one was there. But they came right up to where she was and asked,

“Are you the Countess of Orte?”

The threatening question left her unable to speak.
If this continued, she would be dragged away just like last time. She might never see Burkhardt again.

A sudden, ominous dread surged within her, and she knew she couldn’t just stay still. Slowly, she began to back away from the knights.

“I asked if you are the Countess of Orte.”

Having already searched the mansion, the knight seemed certain—judging by her attire and the fact that she was the only one left—that she was indeed the Countess.

As Elizabeth retreated, the knights advanced, matching her steps with their own.

“What brings you here?”
She was afraid, but she couldn’t let it show. The only option was to keep them talking.

At last, her back brushed against something cold—it seemed she had reached the terrace. Good. Now she had another choice besides being dragged away. She had no intention of going quietly this time. Even if it meant falling beyond this terrace…

“There’s nowhere left for you to go. Come quietly.”

“No. I don’t know why you’ve come to this mansion, Sir Knight, but I have no intention of going with you.”

Elizabeth perched herself on the terrace railing, a triumphant smile on her lips. The drop beyond was dangerous enough that one wrong move could send her over, and the knight, realizing this, stepped back.

“I am Colin Fors, commander of the Clemens Imperial Palace Knights. Are you unaware that Sirentium has become a vassal state of the Clemens Empire? My lady, please, calm yourself and come down.”“Why would the Imperial Palace Knights be here for me…?”
“It is His Majesty’s command. Enough talk—come with us at once.”

The war had dragged on so long that even the emperor had changed hands several times. If she had known it would end in Clemens’s victory, perhaps she would have taken Burkhardt’s hand and fled across the border.

It was a meaningless thought, yet Elizabeth’s chest tightened. If they had escaped safely together, perhaps by now their child would be growing up strong and healthy.

“Countess.”
“I’ve been widowed; there’s no reason to call me Countess anymore. I have no real family to return to, no children… I’m no different from a commoner. There’s no reason for someone like me to meet His Majesty.”

“Hah… you’re impossible to reason with. If you refuse to cooperate, we’ll have no choice but to drag you down by force.”

Annoyance was plain on the knight’s face, but Elizabeth didn’t care in the slightest how they felt.

Having met Burkhardt once on the very brink of death, she had nothing left to fear. Perhaps, if she stood at that threshold again, he might come to take her away.

“If you try to take me by force, I’ll jump from here. The ground may not be far below, but I could still be hurt.”

“What on earth are you saying!”

“From the way you knights are behaving, it seems His Majesty of Clemens isn’t here for damaged goods.”

So, the Emperor of Clemens was the same sort of man as the Count of Orte. She had thought she might finally live with Burkhardt again, only to find herself suddenly facing the threat of being torn from him by this unexpected emperor.

That could not be allowed. If she broke a bone—or worse—perhaps they would give up on taking her away.

Elizabeth resolved to show them that her words were not an empty threat, but something she was truly prepared to carry out. She didn’t want to create any more misunderstandings with Burkhardt.

Once she had made up her mind, carrying it out was not difficult. Elizabeth hurled herself over the terrace railing—faster than the knight who was rushing toward her.

Thud—she must have struck the railing wrong, for a faint pain flared in her ankle. But knowing that far greater pain awaited her, she brushed off the small ache without a second thought.

“My lady!”

The knights’ startled voices grew faint in the distance. Their blunder was none of her concern. In fact, the farther she got from them, the lighter she felt. If she had responded like this before, perhaps Burkhardt wouldn’t have resented her as he had the night before.

When he came to find her later, she could at least say that this time she had kept her word. He was, by nature, a good man—so even if he felt resentment, perhaps he would pity her and forgive her.

With that thought, it no longer seemed like something she lacked the courage to do.

She had only ever wanted to live happily with him—was that too great a dream?
Her breathing was labored, yet she felt no fear. If she were to die here, perhaps Burkhardt—whether alive or dead—would finally let go of his misunderstanding.

The love they had been unable to fulfill in this life… she wished they could live it to the fullest in the next. Meeting their child in the afterlife and giving them all the love she had been unable to give in this world didn’t seem like such a bad fate either.

But once again, God was not on Elizabeth’s side.

A sudden catch—instead of the hard, injurious impact she had expected, someone caught her as she fell. She had never imagined that, rather than being hurt or killed, she would end up in someone’s arms.

“Your Majesty! This is the Countess. She threw herself from the terrace to evade us.”

It was the worst possible outcome.

Elizabeth struggled violently to free herself from the person holding her. She thrashed so hard that, all at once, a sharp twinge shot through her ankle…

A sharp pain shot through her entire body.
Ah, that’s right—she’d hurt herself when she jumped.

Only then did Elizabeth notice the throbbing in her ankle, her brow furrowing as a groan escaped her lips. She wasn’t the only one who noticed the injury.

Hearing her pained sound, the emperor spoke in a voice edged with irritation.
“To think you’d throw yourself from the terrace just to get away from me.”

He tightened his hold on her, as if determined not to let her go.
“Ugh…” The sudden pain made Elizabeth cling instinctively to the man holding her.

“Hah. Clinging to me, when you don’t even know who I am?”

She had thought this was their first meeting, yet the emperor growled the words at her as though speaking to someone he already knew.

A strange sense of familiarity shook Elizabeth—though she told herself it couldn’t possibly be…

She had a sudden instinct that this might be someone she knew.
She wanted to see the emperor’s face, yet she lacked the courage. No—she was afraid that the man before her might truly be the one she was thinking of.

Just then, the moonlight, which had been hidden behind clouds, spilled across the world, allowing Elizabeth to see the face of the man holding her.

“…!”

“I warned you that you couldn’t run from me, didn’t I?”

Even at Burkhardt’s sharp rebuke, Elizabeth felt nothing but happiness—because she could see him alive and know for certain that he was no illusion.