The efforts she’d made weren’t all in vain—sometimes they had made him happy. She only learned this truth at the very end. But it was a truth that no longer held any meaning.

Chartia clutched her skirt tightly and hastily changed the subject.

“I think this is enough books.”

Julian, who’d been looking at the various books regretfully, soon nodded. He entrusted the purchased books to his attendant and led her toward the door.

“Then now…”

“Could you come with me to one more place?”

Before he could finish, Chartia spoke abruptly.

She could actually have this conversation here without moving. But wasn’t this important to him too? She hoped the final scene she’d envisioned would be in a calmer atmosphere.

…Honestly, she had a shred of lingering attachment. Because this would truly be the last time she could be with him.

Of course, if he was uncomfortable, she had no intention of insisting.

But Julian affirmed surprisingly easily, without much deliberation.

“Then somewhere we can warm up would be good.”

He removed his outer coat and draped it around her, speaking with a small smile.

“Actually, I reserved the restaurant we went to before. I’ll guide you there.”

She must have loved his kindness. His unchanging affection until the very last moment made her eyes sting.

Chartia nodded silently and exited the bookstore a step ahead of him.

But as soon as she opened the door, the fishy smell of rain hit her. With bad timing, thin raindrops were falling bit by bit from the sky.

“It’ll turn into a downpour soon.”

Julian, who’d followed her out, extended his hand into the air. The frequency of raindrops hitting was definitely increasing.

An unseasonable autumn shower. This would make traveling difficult. Would she have to go back like this? 

She was gloomily watching the weather, as gloomy as her mood, when suddenly one of his subordinates came running from the end of the street.

As the man who’d quickly approached whispered something, Julian’s expression turned serious in an instant. Anxiety sprouted. It was because she caught the name “Rosenia” faintly through the humid air.

Ominous premonitions never went wrong. He spoke with a troubled look.

“Chartia, I’m sorry but…”

“…Do you need to go now?”

“Yes, something urgent came up… I’m truly sorry.”

[Though you’ll be back soon.]

Rosé’s words, added mockingly, suddenly came to mind. That must have meant this situation.

‘So it ends up like this again.’

Now there was only one answer and reaction she should give.

Of course. Don’t worry about me and go quickly.

She should smile and send him off. But…

Her hand, betraying her will, weakly grasped the edge of his clothes.

“…Can’t you not go? Even just an hour—no, even just 10 minutes is fine. I have something important to tell you.”

“Then I’ll visit you again tomorrow…”

“No, it has to be today.”

“…Chartia.”

“Please.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He removed her hand gently but firmly. Then he continued, like coaxing a child.

“You’re not feeling well either. I’ll listen to what you have to say later, so I think it’s best if you go home today. I’ll ask my knight to escort you back…”

“…It’s fine. I brought my own escort.”

Chartia tried to answer nonchalantly, forcing up the corners of her mouth. She had no idea if she was smiling properly, if her voice was trembling. But even if he noticed, nothing would change.

“I’m truly sorry.”

With an extremely apologetic face, he offered one more apology and finally turned away.

Chartia moved a few steps following him as he grew distant. But the gap between them widened irreversibly until he was no longer visible.

His subordinate carefully approached her as she stood dazed like a lost child.

“Lady Blanche, the rain is getting heavy. Please, to the carriage…”

“Go back. I don’t need an escort.”

“But…”

“If you’re a knight, please don’t make me more miserable.”

A pitying gaze touched the back of her head. She couldn’t even gauge how shabby she looked, how pitiful, having been abandoned.

“Then I’ll call the Blanche knight.”

The knight bowed his head and withdrew.

Left alone, she finally dropped her head. The number of raindrops bouncing off the stone pavement kept increasing.

A few people who’d been wandering nearby made a fuss and disappeared into buildings. Finally, on the empty street, she clenched her empty fist.

What a miserable feeling.

She’d resolved dozens of times not to expect anything from him—why did she get greedy? And why did she mistakenly think that if she desperately held on, he’d stay by her side even for a moment?

He should have firmly pushed her away and left. Then at least she could have given up easily. 

He’d looked like he was committing a great sin beyond just being sorry. Perhaps that’s why futile thoughts kept surging.

The thought that maybe in a corner of his heart he wanted to grant her request, but had to leave because it was truly such an urgent matter.

But she knew. He’d simply chosen Rosé.

Emotions are strange things. An endlessly confident person becomes weak, and someone who was the protagonist of the world so easily falls to an extra. Just because they weren’t chosen, because they weren’t loved.

In the place he’d left, Chartia weakly uttered words no one would hear.

“I thought you’d prioritize me, just for today.”

Even if you don’t have feelings for me, I’m still your fiancée. I hoped you’d stay by my side even if I had to beg for kindness.

I know I’d be a burden to you, but we made a promise, and you said it was natural, so I hoped you’d stay with me even a little.

Just once, even if it was a momentary misjudgment, I hoped you’d choose me.

“It was truly my last request.”

Something wet—whether rain or tears—pattered down her cheeks. She wiped and wiped repeatedly, then gave up.

It’s a bit hard. No, actually it was extremely hard. So much so that she wished she could just carve out her heart and stop loving him.

She’d acted composed, like it was natural, knowing her place. She told herself she had to step back without fuss, that she was organizing her feelings. But there was no way she could.

She still wanted to be by his side, she missed him, and seeing the two of them together hurt like her heart was being torn apart.

Actually, sometimes—just sometimes—she wanted to ask him. Couldn’t he look back just once? She wanted to confess that she loved him this much.

But that wouldn’t be for his sake. If she couldn’t be his salvation, she wanted to at least be his shade, so she endured and endured again.

But the emotions she’d swallowed surged up like reflux and fleetingly flowed down.

Please like me. Even just a little would be enough—if you’d allow me into your heart, I’d be happy like someone who possessed the whole world. I would have been the happiest person in the world. I wanted to share that happiness with you and be together like that.

The resentment with nowhere to go scattered formlessly with the rainwater.

Standing firm wouldn’t make him look back or return, yet she couldn’t leave the spot, rooted in place.

When her whole body was soaked and she could no longer feel the cold of the rain, a round umbrella shadow fell at her feet.

She slowly lifted her head, and through her blurred vision, she saw not the deep blue sea she had longed for, but violets. It was unbearably sorrowful. 

Though the rain no longer fell on her, droplets still streamed down her cheeks.

* * *

The rain beating on the umbrella gradually intensified. Her body, more drenched than the humid air, pitched forward.

Before her precarious body could collapse, Cain caught Chartia’s shoulder. The woman who’d always had a warmer body temperature than him had become surprisingly cold.

He stripped off the useless coat covering Chartia’s shoulders and tossed it aside, then wrapped her in his own coat and lifted her. Then a laughably weak force pushed against his chest.

“Not yet…”

Cain cast a sharp gaze downward.

‘What, thinking that b*stard might come back?’

The gaze unable to let go of attachment and staring behind, the lukewarm breath pouring precariously on his nape—why did it make him feel so foul?

His mood had been twisted since he heard she’d crawled outside despite her poor health, and grew even worse in front of the Blanche carriage he’d barely found.

“Lady Blanche is currently alone in the rain…”

“Where.”

At the single sentence from the Chester knight who’d come through the rain, he immediately reached this place by magic without looking back. And the moment he spotted the figure standing dazed in the rain, a curse burst out.

“F*ck.”

He couldn’t understand Chartia in this state over some guy, or that b*stard who’d left such a precarious woman behind, but what he understood least was himself.

Whether this woman was abandoned or wearing herself down like a moth to flame—none of it should concern him. So why the h*ll was he so heated up?

Gritting his teeth with a grinding sound, Cain strode forward.

Actually, the important thing wasn’t ‘why’ he felt this way. It was ‘when’ he’d started feeling this way. That was the bigger problem for him.

* * *

Looking back, the beginning must have been very small and pathetic.

In the past, there was a young boy who didn’t fear nightmares. The boy grew up below the bottom, in the lowest place, feeding on dampness and horror. 

Shadows staining his hands and feet, rotting flesh, extreme pain that couldn’t even produce screams.

When he could no longer bear those things that had been natural, the boy crushed everything and crawled out of the pit himself. 

The sun he encountered was so hot and intense. Standing under the dazzling brightness that seemed to blind him, the boy ironically came to fear nightmares.

That damp, dark, f*cking dream clung especially persistently when he was alone, so even as the boy became a young man, he couldn’t sleep alone.

Because of that, the young man—that is, Cain—was always tired and always sick of it. His environment, the work he shouldered, sometimes even the life given to him.

He thought his meeting with Chartia was also just entertainment to kill that disgusting time. But his judgment was mercilessly crumpled like paper.

On the first day of their reunion, when he succumbed to accumulated fatigue and fell asleep, he naturally expected to wake from a nightmare. 

He hadn’t given Chartia any explanation, just told her to stay by his side, so he naturally thought she’d left.