“Couldn’t they have someone else handle this kind of thing…”

Muttering to himself wouldn’t change anything. Rather, it was precisely because it was Baptiste that Cassian had entrusted him with this task.

Though he would have to deal with Amaryllis’s anger for a while. That was something he didn’t even want to think about.

“I really… don’t want to do this.”

Baptiste heaved a sigh and headed toward the square where the execution ground was prepared. At the gate leading to the wide square, Baptiste encountered an unexpected person.

In that moment, an unforeseen realization struck like lightning.

“Ah…”

At his involuntary utterance, the woman gracefully stopped. Her uniquely white and delicate blonde hair seemed to leave afterimages.

The woman who faced Baptiste naturally grasped her dress skirt and curtsied. Perfect etiquette even in such a place.

“Marquis L’Isle-Adam.”

“I had forgotten about your existence.”

Instead of a greeting, what came out was something rather rude. The woman who had straightened her posture slightly furrowed her brow.

“What do you mean?”

“No, I just had an unsolved question. About why Duke Blumir went mad.”

Baptiste openly stared at the woman’s appearance. Today too, she was with her male servant who always accompanied her. An inexplicable chill emanated from the man. No matter how you looked at him, he didn’t seem like a servant.

In contrast, the woman was the opposite of such a man. Rather than meeting at an execution ground, she looked more like someone you might naturally encounter at a ball.

Her attire wasn’t particularly elaborate. Looking closely, it was closer to a house dress that maids might wear, made of simple material. Her hair was simply combed down without any elaborate ornaments, no earrings visible on her ears, no accessories on her body. She wore no makeup.

While one couldn’t say she was dressed up, there was something that transcended all that. Probably no one could remain unmoved if she looked at them with those eyes, even in such an appearance.

Just as the Duchess of Blumir had been at that age.

Yes, whenever Baptiste had encountered Duchess Blumir when she lived at Cassian’s grand duchy, he had been surprised. She was truly a gem that Cassian had polished well.

Baptiste swallowed a groan internally.

‘…It’s rather chilling.’

He understood why those who had been involved with Madame Marguerite couldn’t forget her, and kept finding her shadow in similar appearances. Never had that story felt so vivid as in this moment.

Clicking his tongue, Baptiste whispered in his usual light tone.

“Why has Mademoiselle come all this way?”

“What other reason could there be to come to an execution ground?”

“This won’t be a pleasant sight for Mademoiselle to see.”

This was said out of genuine concern. When Duchess Blumir was still the Duchess of Blumir, she was only in her late teens to early twenties. Someone of a similar age would still be young enough to be spoiled by their parents, just a young lady.

“A person’s death is far crueler than you might think, and stays long in memory. If you’ve come out of curiosity for a spectacle, you should turn back now.”

At this, the woman gripped more tightly the hand of the man she was leaning on. A subtle look crossed those dark red eyes looking down at the woman.

Was it anxiety about Baptiste’s words? Worry?

No, it was closer to subtle anger. The man was angry at the woman.

As Baptiste slightly furrowed his brow at this incomprehensible attitude, the woman added a lonely smile.

“…Even so, I must watch.”

It was a meaningful response.

* * *

The soldiers led the firmly bound Liam. On the temporary wooden platform, the executioner with his robust build could be seen. The blue steel axe blade glinted.

Standing proudly before it, Liam looked up at the sky.

“The weather is… nice.”

It was a day with gentle spring breezes. The sky was intensely blue. The sunlight streaming down from the cloudless heavens was warm.

It was too clear a morning to believe someone was departing.

His sky, which he would never see again.

Death was no longer frightening. So he could engrave all of this in his memory just as it was, beautifully.

“Liam Cheval…”

Baptiste’s voice, as he finally began to recite Liam’s crimes, was monotone.

“Including Marius Jardin, who worked as the butler of the Blumir mansion, he murdered forty-three members of the Blumir household in Gabrienne.”

Hearing him mention a specific number, anguished groans broke out. Not just one or two, but forty-three people.

Someone’s wailing echoed sorrowfully from among the crowd. Some people who had been pointing fingers at Liam fainted with foam at their mouths. They seemed to be families of those who had died.

Liam watched all of this with composure. No emotion could be felt.

As if what he had done, his crimes, were not his own.

“He murdered approximately three hundred and seventy vassals who had faithfully served and assisted the duke in the Blumir territory.”

This time curses began to be heard. Stones were thrown. One of them hit Liam squarely on the forehead.

Unable to withstand the acceleration of the incoming stone, Liam’s body bent weakly. Blood droplets rolled from his instantly split forehead. Down one eye, down his cheek, to his chin, drip, drop. Still speaking of the value of life.

Someone let out a cheer at this sight.

Hatred, malice, and mixed in with it something subtle — pleasure. The raw emotions displayed by the crowd seep in.

“As punishment for this, first, his status as a meritorious subject will be revoked.”

Liam barely straightened his body. At that moment, his eyes met Valentine’s, who was watching him from afar.

He could recognize it was her even from just the hazily formed silhouette. Even from a distance, he was certain she was his long-standing cause. Her light blonde hair, unlike anyone else’s, fluttered gently.

What expression would Valentine, whom he still loved with all his heart even now, be wearing?

She was smiling.

Like a flower, like a fully bloomed violet, like a black rose at the height of summer.

Capturing the sight of her, who’s uniquely beautiful even in this moment, Liam whispered in his heart words that would never be delivered.

“The Blumir duchy will be returned to the imperial family.”

Valentine, you know…

When I saw you in your first spring, by His Majesty’s side…

There was something I didn’t want to acknowledge, but had to.

“Liam Cheval, who cruelly massacred hundreds, is sentenced to death.”

That you loved him as much as I loved you.

“Proclaim His Majesty’s sacred command to the people.”

As much as I wanted to be happy with you,

You wanted to enjoy happiness with him–

“In Sehera, not even founding contributors, high nobles, or even imperial family members can be forgiven for massacring people without reason. They will receive the same punishment as a commoner killing another commoner.”

And I was a coward who couldn’t even wish for such happiness for you,

Who wished that if you couldn’t be happy with me, you couldn’t be happy with the one you loved either,

Because I was such a terribly selfish being–

“This is the foundation of the Pendragon dynasty, and through today’s events, we once again proclaim the solemnity of national law to Sehera.”

That’s why today’s you and I exist.

“Duke Blumir.”

In your spring where flowers bloom and birds sing,

“Do you have any last words?”

My echo, searching for a corner of your heart, did not ring out.

“…I have none.”

My echo searching for you would never be heard.

Baptiste raised his hand. At the command that finally dropped, the soldiers forced Liam to his knees. The platform made of cheap wood was hard. They bound his body tightly to prevent any unfortunate incidents.

“Proceed.”

At that command, the executioners danced with their axes. As believers serving God, it was an act to receive minimal absolution for the grave sin of one person harming another.

“…….”

Before Liam’s eyes, their clumsy footwork was visible. Through it, her golden hair seemed to shimmer. Liam unconsciously broke into a slight smile.

Because he had given up everything, because everything he had slipped through his fingers.

Dying like this isn’t difficult. Perhaps it’s better to die peacefully. Just as Valentine died maintaining her honor.

In any country, in any era, the honor that can be eternally revered in death is longer and deeper than the fame one can have while alive.

Liam’s honor would remain as that of a murderer who killed hundreds.

A femme fatale who ruined the country, and her murderous brother. What truly ironic charges.

But death is just death. He had no interest in what those remaining would say.

Only─.

You, whom I can no longer face, whom I can never see again.

Though it was only natural, I—who once witnessed you alive and breathing, even if only for that fleeting miracle of time in the past—now face the reality of you…

Disappearing forever before my eyes,

I knew this was the path meant for you.

‘Ah.’

I love, keep loving, and will love again.

To my rose that can never bloom.

Slash! The axe cut through the air and lunged at the person. The neck that had been thinking and breathing just seconds ago was cleanly severed.

The executioner’s face was stained with blood. The condemned’s body collapsed into a world of crimson.

In his gradually darkening consciousness, Liam closed his eyes. A smile spread across his lips one last time.

His eternal rest was black.