It was a story that would remain in a corner of history, passed down as truth forever.

It was quite a cunning act. But he didn’t know Count Glastia would be this thoughtless.

“How did Your Grace come to know about that incident?”

A coldly calm voice inquired. Liam’s heart ached as he recalled all that had passed. He clenched his fist tightly.

“Because it was Tina’s final journey… I had no choice but to watch from beginning to end.”

Cassian lowered his eyes. His eyes, as blue as a winter sky, captured Liam’s trembling hands.

That wavering… Anger. The emotions blooming vividly spoke particularly hotly.

“The workers said it was strange that two coffins were going into one grave… That the weights, which should have been similar, were completely different. From then on, I followed Count Glastia’s movements and found out.”

He had heard it purely by chance, as crowds had swarmed like bees.

There was no reason for Count Glastia to harm Astaire. That funeral was the greatest luxury a deposed emperor chased by rebels could enjoy. So the coffin with the strange weight could only have been Valentine’s.

“Why didn’t you… No. None of this is your fault, Duke.”

Cassian, who was about to ask why he hadn’t told him earlier, swallowed his words. There was no need to question Liam. It must have been Count Glastia’s machinations.

Having organized his thoughts, Cassian opened his mouth.

“Duke Blumir.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Belle is someone living an irreversible past. As Your Grace said, you made her so.”

He’s not blaming him. He’s merely stating facts.

Nevertheless, the always dry voice tore through Liam’s heart like a blade. Though a considerable time had passed, the guilt that he couldn’t forget for even a moment ate away at Liam.

“Yet someone who resembles Belle has appeared.”

Cassian’s red lips curled up crookedly as he murmured calmly. The slight twist, almost like a sneer, spread like that.

Yes, that’s all it is.

Today was the first day Lumière, who had been away from Sehera for a long time, returned. Lumière, who knew nothing, had simply brought a maid who looked similar to Valentine, nothing more or less.

In fact, it was just a trivial everyday occurrence that could hardly be called a problem. Nevertheless…

“Various difficulties are popping up here and there.”

“…Your Majesty.”

“The Empress was rash, and Duke Blumir is not composed enough.”

It was amazing that Cassian could remain this calm, but his words struck at the core. Liam, who had nothing to say even if he had ten mouths, lowered his head.

“Judging from your words, it seems Count Glastia has been harboring problems for a long time. That I only found out after so much time has passed, this is due to my own incompetence.”

Though his tone was exceedingly gentle, Cassian’s tongue was sharp. He wasn’t blaming himself, but reproaching Liam for not informing him of the facts earlier.

Staring down at Liam, Cassian thought,

How should one deal with a dog that dares bare its teeth at its master?

“Duke Blumir.”

“I await your command.”

“What punishment do you think would be appropriate for me to give the Count?”

“……”

Sometimes, calmly talking is more pressuring than shouting in anger. This was one of those times.

For Liam, it was a question difficult to answer hastily.

* * *

After finishing his private meeting with Count Glastia, Cassian moved with somewhat uncomfortable steps. Count Glastia’s actions had disturbed his composure.

Nevertheless, putting aside his unsettled feelings, there was something that needed to be clarified. Thus, Cassian was on his way to the salon to meet Lumière.

In the darkness-filled garden, he saw a woman sitting alone in front of an ornate fountain, gazing up at the moon.

Golden hair, more brilliant than the sun, disheveled. Her white skin, fading in the tender moonlight, was incomparably clear.

“…Belle.”

Startled by the unconsciously muttered sound, the woman raised her head.

Beneath long, stretched eyelashes, familiar violet eyes captured Cassian. His figure was reflected in those beautifully sorrowful eyes.

Under the moonlight where he always met Valentine, there she was, from those days.

Valentine de le Blumir.

Belle Laure of Cassian Pendragon, inheriting the noble bloodline of Blumir.

“……”

Cassian’s lips moved. Not a single word flowed.

The day he first met Valentine calmly invaded his mind.

The quiet countryside estate, the gently blowing spring breeze. The single moment of spring love that seeped into his heart when cherry blossoms, swaying delicately in the wind, brushed past his eyes.

Cheeks flushed red. The violet gaze staring at him in surprise. Trembling eyelashes, lips he wanted to snatch and kiss right then.

They say those destined to be connected appear special. For Cassian, Valentine was like that.

In fact, Valentine, before coming to Gabrienne, was rather unsophisticated. ‘Girl’ suited her better than ‘woman’. Nevertheless, she had a mysterious presence that seemed capable of completely enchanting those before her.

After she came to Gabrienne holding Cassian’s hand. The Valentine that Cassian had polished was a jewel too precious to display anywhere. When Astaire proudly showed off Valentine, those gathered in the salon would sigh with envy.

Each time, Cassian clenched his fist. In the unfamiliar pain of nails digging into his palm, he thought countless times of this country, of Sehera that he had to protect and nurture.

But now, when he didn’t have to think about all that. The longing he had secretly hidden melted into the dark night. As if in a fantasy, he hears her calling him.

‘Ah, Cassian…’

…He loved Valentine.

‘I think of those hands, that breath as yours.’

As one man, he loved one woman.

‘I wish the lips calling my name, the voice whispering love, the embrace holding me, were yours.’

The woman loved the man more than anything in the world, but,

‘I love you. More than anyone. Even if I were given everything in this land, I couldn’t exchange it for you.’

The man looked at something bigger, higher, and heavier than his own heart.

Just as he was about to reach out, swept up in the poignant auditory hallucination like an old habit.

The woman before him gently bent her knees to the floor. Her long flowing hair fluttered like a curtain. Golden afterimages embroidered the night air.

As if abandoning and turning away from him, she bowed her head towards the floor. A voice he had never forgotten for even a moment was heard.

“I greet Your Majesty, the Emperor of Sehera.”

‘Welcome, Cassian.’

Once again, as if the old whisper calling him brushed past his ear. To the point where he thought himself pathetic for having just muttered that only someone who resembled her had appeared.

A distant fantasy swept over him as if everything had returned to those days. The end of spring when she lived and breathed poured dizzily over him. That sorrowful season when white cherry blossoms shimmered.

It was fine to call it selfishness. He didn’t care if he was called a madman.

But at this moment, the words he absolutely couldn’t hear were disappointingly sad. Ridiculously so.

“Do you know me?”

Finally, a composed question fell. There was laughter in the woman’s voice that quietly rang in Cassian’s ears.

“The light blonde hair, the warm eyes, the gentle gaze… you resemble Queen… Madame de la Fleur.”

That they resembled each other. Cassian and Lumière. That’s how she recognized him.

In the end, a strange feeling welled up at her saying she didn’t know Cassian. Because Valentine couldn’t not know Cassian.

Cassian unconsciously reached out his right hand. When the heavy weight touched the woman’s fragile shoulders, she finally raised her head.

Blue gaze met violet gaze. The same pure light as the day they first met.

From somewhere, coldly chilled air rushed in. The man and woman who had exchanged their first greetings in the secret story of reviving spring, imprinted each other’s existence among the dying late autumn leaves.

The right hand that elegantly cut through the darkly lowered night air caressed the woman’s cheek. The skin that wrapped around the man’s fingertips was soft as silk. It spoke of a familiar temperature.

As if startled by the momentary warmth, the dazzling violet eyes hid once between the eyelids.

As if intoxicated by that gaze, the man’s fingers slid smoothly. The firm thumb that brushed the tender cheek caressed her lips. The plump red flesh, that split gap, engraved the hot breath that was the exclusive property of the living.

Air that only he and she knew wandered nearby. In time engraved differently for each, they had breathed sweet whispers.

Time that only the two of them shared flowed. In past memories, they had explored each other’s warmth. They had overlapped lips, mixed flesh, spoken of love and promised eternity.

Even like this─ to say she wasn’t Valentine.

For just one moment, the impulse to pull her close and trap her in his embrace dominated him. He wanted to steal the warmth touching his fingertips and completely bury himself in her body heat.

Just as his slipped left hand was about to pull her waist─

“Your Majesty?”

“……”