Chapter 6.10

“Your words are correct. To them, it may seem like nothing more than a futile struggle, but the act of standing against injustice itself is significant. After all, great changes always begin with small acts of resistance.”

Lloyd’s profound words were enough to inspire Lisael. Even if there were no immediate benefits, raising one’s voice was important in itself. A sudden thought struck Lisael, who had been feeling disheartened. Waiting passively in Ruota was not the only thing she could do.

“Uncle Lloyd, I… I need to go somewhere urgently.”

As Lisael stood up, Lloyd’s gaze silently asked where she was headed.

“I need to go to the capital. There’s someone I need to meet.”

Simply lamenting her situation would change nothing. What would come of staying helplessly in the village, hearing about the aftermath, despairing once again over the same facts, and repeatedly chewing over self-blame and resentment? 

It wasn’t too late. If she followed Miguel to the capital even now, she might find something she could do. At the very least, she could hear his clumsy excuses directly. 

The canal was a national project directly overseen by the Imperial Family. No one could overturn it at this stage. However, there was still a way to lessen her resentment toward Miguel.

Lisael quickly arranged for a carriage on her way back to the hotel and headed to the capital with her attendants.

***

Three days after arriving in the capital, Miguel was staying at the Dante family’s townhouse, awaiting the canal construction rights auction that was just a day away. Miguel, who absolutely had to secure these rights, took out the prepared bid proposal and reviewed it again.

His dear friend Mason was truly an exceptional industrial spy. The flawless way he had stolen the rival company’s bid amounts, delivering them safely into Miguel’s hands, was so perfect that Miguel felt like doubling Mason’s reward. 

Of course, the rival companies must have also tried to leak confidential information by using their own spies, but they certainly wouldn’t have been able to uncover the Dante family’s bid. After all, Miguel, who had been granted full authority by Earl Dante, had only just finalized the bid amount.

He planned to write down an amount just slightly lower than the lowest bid from the competitors. To Miguel, auctions were no different from the card games he had played countless times. If he succeeded in reading the opponent’s hand, the game was as good as won.

However, it was a paradoxical game where winning meant losing all the chips in hand. This auction, a game with enormous stakes, awaited him with a prize he least wanted to receive after winning.

‘Something… felt different this time.’

On the very day he left Ruota, Lisael had, for the first time, opened up to him and initiated a greeting. It was just a simple word, but in their strained relationship, even such a trivial greeting was an unusual sign. 

He couldn’t help but be affected. After all, in a relationship that had already hit rock bottom, there was no longer any fear of being hated. But why, of all times, did she offer a warm and gentle word just as everything was coming to an end?

Could I have missed something truly important? Should I cancel the bid even now? 

His sharp instincts relentlessly pressed on his nerves.

Miguel’s gaze briefly landed on a portrait of a smiling woman nearby. He reached out and brought the canvas closer. The grayscale woman, drawn solely with a pencil and without any color, was more vibrant and beautiful than any painting filled with hues.

Miguel’s long fingers gently stroked her cheek on the flat surface, as if wiping away tears, and then traced the curve of her small, boat-like smile with his fingertips.

“…You’re a fake.”

After staring at the drawing for a while, he murmured in a hoarse voice. At least to him, she was. In reality, he had never seen her, fully grown, wearing such a radiant smile—not even in his dreams. Her face had always been so filled with sorrow that it seemed impossible for such a smile to exist.

Perhaps, outside the canvas, her world was one where there was rarely anything to smile about. Tomorrow, he would cast a shadow over that gray world, robbing it of even the smallest glimmer of light. Once again, merciless anguish weakened him.

‘Don’t think about it….’

Miguel hadn’t slept properly for days. After rubbing his face with his hands, he let his head fall back against the chair and closed his eyes. After all, once tomorrow passed, everything would become irreversible, and this futile agony would come to an end.

Until the morning he was to head to the palace, he resolved to think of nothing, like a lifeless object. Tomorrow, he would go to the palace, submit the bid, win the auction, and, as promised to his father, secure the Lord’s position. The outcome was only a matter of time, and its smoothness was almost unnerving.

Except for his own ever-shifting, tangled thoughts.

***

The next day, Miguel set out for the palace early in the morning. At the front gate, he noticed another carriage waiting. For some reason, the carriage neither entered the palace nor left.

Miguel, who was usually indifferent to his surroundings, was about to turn his gaze away when a familiar silhouette caught his eye. A woman, her hair pinned up, exposing her long, white neck, stood under the dazzling morning sunlight.

How could she, who had no reason to be here, appear in this place? Miguel furrowed his brows in disbelief.

Instinctively, Miguel realized what had happened. Though he didn’t know the details, he was certain she had come, having already learned the truth. Seeing Lisael’s sunlit pupils tremble like an aftershock as they met his figure stepping down from the carriage, he was sure of it.

‘I’m the one who’s truly flustered, yet why does she already look so hurt?’

Miguel couldn’t meet Lisael’s gaze, as if he had become a criminal who had committed an unforgivable sin. If he kept looking into her eyes any longer, the firm resolve he had built up would crumble like a sandcastle.

“Miguel, I need to talk to you.”

‘Talk? Not reproach?’

Miguel had often imagined what Lisael would do once she learned he had hidden the auction from her. In one scenario, she would erupt in unprecedented rage, hurling insults and accusations at him for once again being manipulated by the Dante family. In another, she would simply cast him a cold, disdainful glance and refuse to exchange a single word.

But the real Lisael was completely different from the dozens, hundreds of imagined versions of her. She was looking directly at him, neither exploding with anger nor venting any heightened emotions.

‘Then again, if she truly hated me, she wouldn’t have come all the way here.’

“I need to go to the palace soon. Let’s talk after I return.”

“Because of the canal construction auction?”

Miguel, who had been about to pass Lisael on his way to the palace, turned sharply in surprise. She didn’t just have a vague idea; she knew the exact details.

How?

Seeing Miguel’s now-clear gaze, Lisael answered as if reading his mind.

“I met Crisen. It seemed like everyone who needed to know already knew about it—except me.”

“Even if you came here, it’s useless. This is….”

“I know. What can a mere commoner like me do to stop a royal project? I also know it’s not your fault. But….”

“Lisael.”

Miguel interrupted her. A fleeting sense of emptiness passed over his face. It’s not your fault…. He hadn’t expected her to understand. It was something he had wanted to hear seven years ago, but now, it was far too late.

Rather than feeling happy, he felt hollow.

“It’s a bit surprising. You hated me so completely, even for things that weren’t my fault.”

Now it was Lisael’s turn to falter. His words, unexpected and revealing thoughts she believed only she knew, left her shaken.

“I thought there was no escaping your hatred, but I suppose it’s been postponed.”

“Right now, there’s still a choice. You don’t have to take on unnecessary hatred. Miguel, please give up the bid. If the Dante family destroys Cherlin’s last remaining forest….”

“It will only add hatred to hatred. In any case, no one in Cherlin likes the Dante family. There’s no one left to hate me anew, so that’s not a reason to stop me.”

Thinking he had said all he needed to, Miguel began to walk away, but a strong grip held his hand. Lisael clung to him tightly, as if she wouldn’t let go.

“Can’t you stop making us resent you? Hating and cursing the Lord’s family is exhausting! I’m… my father is, the villagers are… all of us. It’s already more than enough….”