“A fever.” 

Countess Forte’s words struck him and sank straight into Kylance’s heart. 

His voice was low and heavy as he trailed off before addressing the countess. 

“…You may go now.” 

After a polite bow, Countess Forte left quickly, leaving Kylance standing alone, staring blankly into space with empty eyes. 

Ariel, bedridden with fever. 

His father, who had cherished the sword given to him by the Marquis of Blante as if it were a family heirloom. 

The Marquis who was said to have saved his father’s life. 

The flood of incredible revelations turned his mind into a chaotic swamp. 

‘Where did everything go wrong?’ 

Kylance froze at the unbidden thought that crossed his mind. 

“Wrong?” 

He asked the question aloud, as if challenging himself. 

‘What could possibly be wrong?’ 

Even if everything the Countess said was true, the Marquis of Blante had murdered his parents. 

That too was an undeniable fact. 

Should the past act of saving his father somehow absolve him? 

No, if anything, it made his later actions even more heinous – the man who had once saved a prince had later ruthlessly killed him for personal gain. 

Yes, no matter who the Marquis of Blante had been in the past, he had ultimately become a monster blinded by greed. 

Kylance clearly remembered finding the knight who had been the sole survivor of the carriage accident and learning the truth about that day from him. 

“It was by order of the Marquis of Blante.”

And that same knight had carried a gold coin with the crest of the Blante family. 

That was all that mattered now. 

That, above all, was the final truth. 

‘I can’t let the past shake me.’ 

Kylance fought to steady his fragile convictions, which felt on the verge of shattering completely. 

But the cracks in his faith were already too deep. Doubts crept through those cracks, gnawing at his heart and making it race with unease. 

‘Could it really be true…? Did the Marquis de Blante really kill my parents?’

Like the stories of his father and the Marquis that he had never known, was there something he had missed? 

And if – just if – the Marquis hadn’t killed his parents… 

All this time he had thought only of revenge. He had abandoned Ariel, crushed the Marquis without mercy and dedicated himself to destroying everything the Marquis of Blante stood for. 

But if his goal of revenge had been wrong from the beginning… 

The monster would be him. 

His blood ran cold at the thought. His hand, trembling and weak, lost its grip completely. 

It was as if every sensation in his body had vanished when suddenly the door to the Emperor’s study creaked open. 

Vayne stepped out, sensing the Emperor’s mood, and stopped abruptly when he saw Kylance. His face became one of alarm. 

“Your Grace… are you all right?” 

Vayne had assumed that Kylance would be waiting in the reception room, as instructed. 

Instead, Kylance stood just outside the Emperor’s study, his gaze unfocused in a way Vayne had never seen before. 

Even more curious was the fact that the nearby servants kept their distance, as if unwilling to approach him. 

Sensing the unusual tension in the air, Vayne cautiously approached Kylance. 

“Your Grace.” 

At the sound of his voice, Kylance’s dark, clouded eyes gradually regained their clarity. 

But his face remained fixed, his expression unyielding. 

It was clear that something had happened, though Vayne knew better than to ask. 

It was the duty of a servant to wait for his master to speak first. 

Pretending not to notice Kylance’s troubled expression, Vayne lowered his gaze respectfully and began to speak. 

‘His Majesty’s temper has calmed considerably. You may now enter the study.’

“Something urgent has come up.” 

Before Vayne could finish, Kylance cut him off. 

‘Something more urgent than meeting His Majesty, the ruler of the Pentium Empire?’ 

“Pardon?” 

Vayne looked up at Kylance in confusion, but the determination in Kylance’s eyes was unshakable. 

“Apologise to His Majesty on my behalf.” 

Leaving those brief words behind, Kylance turned on his heel. Vayne’s agitated voice calling after him echoed down the corridor, but Kylance didn’t stop. 

If anything, his pace quickened as he walked down the corridor. 

He needed to know. 

To confirm that he had indeed overlooked something. 

To find out if the Marquis of Blante was indeed the culprit. 

And the one who could answer his questions was not the Emperor. 

“Your Grace?” 

As Kylance almost stormed out of the Imperial Palace with an intense and urgent demeanour, Deryl approached him with a startled expression. 

“Has something happened…?” 

Before Deryl could finish his sentence, Kylance cut him off. 

“I’m going to the Viasteus house. I must see my aunt.” 

At that moment, a low, ominous rumble echoed through the clouds in the twilight sky. 

Kylance looked up. The dark clouds stretched endlessly, heralding an impending downpour. 

It reminded him of the day his parents had their fatal accident. 

“Let’s go.” 

Kylance boarded the carriage, determined to ignore the creeping sense of foreboding that clawed at his mind. 

—

Whoooosh-

Rain began to fall heavily from the sky, darkened by thick, ominous clouds. 

At that moment, the carriage from the Marquisate of Blante returned to the estate after visiting the house of Viasteus. 

Inside, Ariel sat like a lifeless shell, as if her soul had been drained from her body. 

“My lady, please wait a moment. I’ll get an umbrella – oh, my lady!” 

Before the coachman could finish his sentence, Ariel rose from her seat. 

“It’s all right.”

She spoke slowly as she stepped out of the carriage. The rain drenched her completely, but Ariel walked on as if she felt nothing. 

The butler, alarmed at the sight, rushed towards her with an umbrella, but Ariel pushed his hand away. 

“Leave it. This is better.” 

The butler was about to protest, saying she was already unwell and couldn’t afford to get soaked, but he stopped short. 

It wasn’t just rain running down Ariel’s cheeks – it was tears. 

And they weren’t fresh tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, her light make-up completely ruined. 

She had been crying for a long time. 

Long before she stepped out of the carriage. 

The butler froze, unable to say anything. 

It was the first time he had ever seen Ariel cry like that, break down in such a devastating way. 

Even when the Marquis died, she didn’t feel desperate, as if the world had ended… 

Yes, the butler was now witness to Ariel’s utter despair – a grief so deep he dared not fathom its depths. 

Leaving the stunned butler behind, Ariel trudged towards the mansion. 

Every step felt unbearably heavy, as if she were sinking into a swamp. It was as if the ground itself was pulling her into a dark, bottomless abyss, whispering to her to come closer. 

Then a terrified voice cried out. 

“My lady! What on earth…! I’ll get a doctor immediately!” 

Mila’s panicked words rang out as she rushed into the foyer, horrified at Ariel’s drenched and dishevelled state. 

But before Mila could act, Ariel quickly grabbed her wrist. 

“There’s no need for a doctor.”

Mila flinched at the cold touch of Ariel’s hand. Her words caught in her throat as she stared into Ariel’s empty, hollow eyes – eyes that seemed devoid of life. 

It was as if she was no longer looking at a living person. 

The once beautiful emerald green of her mistress’ eyes now held an indescribable weight of grief, something so deep it could not be put into words. 

With Mila frozen, Ariel released her wrist. 

Ariel’s voice broke the silence. 

“Has my aunt returned?” 

“No, not yet.”

“Jedran went with her, didn’t he?” 

“Yes… he did.” 

“Good.” 

Ariel’s reply was quiet, but it carried a strange sense of relief. 

“……” 

Ariel let out a deep sigh and ran her hand weakly over her face, grateful that her family weren’t there to see her in such a pitiful state. 

“Mila, I don’t need your help right now. Go and rest.” 

“But, my lady… your health…” 

“I just want to rest. I’ll feel better after some sleep. Please make sure no one comes to my room.” 

Mila hesitated, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at Ariel. Finally she lowered her eyes and replied softly. 

“Yes, my lady.” 

Without another word, Ariel walked past her and up the stairs. 

Her fragile figure slowly disappeared up the stairs, leaving Mila and the butler – who had just entered the mansion – standing in the foyer, both watching her with deep concern. 

When Ariel was out of sight, the butler turned to Mila and spoke. 

“Mila, send someone to Lady Arzen immediately. Tell her to return to the manor immediately.” 

“Yes.” 

Mila quickly left the manor. 

The butler stayed where he was, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the trail of water Ariel had left behind as she walked. 

The random, messy streaks on the floor seemed to reflect her precarious state of mind. 

“Please, let nothing happen…” 

With a heavy sigh, the butler turned and instructed the servants to clean the floor before he left to attend to other duties. 

—

Click. 

The door to her room slammed shut behind her. 

Without taking another step, Ariel collapsed to the floor, sliding down as if her legs could no longer support her. 

Her damp dress soaked the marble floor and the cold from the floor seeped into her body. But Ariel felt nothing – no cold, no warmth. All she felt were the endless tears streaming down her face.

Like a broken faucet, her tears wouldn’t stop. 

But she didn’t sob or scream. 

She was just crying in silence. 

No, to be honest, she was hardly aware that she was crying at all. 

Her mind replayed the Duchess’s words over and over again. 

“Your father had no intention of rebelling.” 

“I saw with my own eyes that the evidence of his so-called treason was fabricated.” 

“The one who killed the late Grand Duke and Duchess Seyerd, Kylance’s parents, was your father. That is the dark truth the Marquis has been hiding all this time.” 

Words she hadn’t known, truths she didn’t want to believe.

And the dagger that pierced her heart—the genuine feelings of Kylance.