“The fact that the Marquis saved your father’s life or gave him a sword – these are all things of the past, long gone. The truth you must remember, the only truth that matters, is that he finally succumbed to his thirst for power and cruelly murdered your parents!” 

“No, I should have judged him by that truth. The Marquis denied it to the end. If I had known earlier, if you had told me even in passing, I would have at least listened to his side of the story!” 

Kylance, unable to hold back any longer, replied sharply to the Duchess, who remained unyielding. 

The Duchess, as if finding the situation absurd, let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. 

“How foolish. I poured everything into you, and yet you grew up to be such a fool… Seeing you now, I’m more sure than ever that it was the right decision to tell Blante everything. If I hadn’t, you would have covered up the whole truth. 

Kylance, who had been running a frustrated hand through his hair as if talking to a brick wall, suddenly froze. 

What had I just heard? 

Did Auntie… tell Ariel… what? 

With trembling eyes, Kylance slowly parted his lips to speak. 

“The whole truth, you say. Aunt, surely… surely you didn’t tell Ariel… that the Marquis killed my parents.” 

Kylance prayed desperately that it wasn’t true, but as always, the gods turned their backs on him. 

“You think that’s all I told her? I revealed everything – even the fact that you fabricated evidence to brand the Marquis a traitor. I even showed her the real letter the Marquis sent to the remnants of the rebellion.” 

Thud-Kylance felt his heart sink. 

It wasn’t enough that Ariel had learned that the Marquis was accused of killing his parents – now she knew that he had falsified the evidence. 

“Aunt!!” 

Kylance’s angry cry echoed through the room, so loud that even the Duchess flinched for a moment. But it was only a fleeting reaction. 

Kylance was a boy she had raised herself. 

She did not fear him. Instead, she was seething with anger at Kylance for daring to challenge her when he was consumed by a woman. 

The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the room as the Duchess’ hand struck Kylance’s cheek. 

Slap- 

The sharp rubbing sound echoed and Kylance’s head snapped to the side. 

“Kylance Seyerd, pull yourself together! How long will you continue to disgrace yourself over a mere woman? Do you want to wallow in regret now? Have you forgotten? All the evidence tampering – that was your doing. Done with these very hands of yours!” 

“……” 

Kylance couldn’t muster an answer. The Duchess was right. 

It was his own doing. No one had forced him. It was he who had turned the Marquis into a traitor. How could he blame anyone else? 

Did he even have the right to be angry with her? 

Blood trickled from his split lip, but Kylance stood dazed, as if time itself had stopped. 

Where had it all gone wrong? How could he bear the weight of what he had done? 

Nothing came to mind. 

He had come to the Duchess seeking answers, but instead he found himself sinking deeper into the mire. 

And then, just then, a name flashed through his mind. 

Ariel. 

How could she endure all this…? 

No, these weren’t truths she could bear – not now, with the collapse of the Marquisate of Blante weighing on her even more. 

“I heard she’d been unconscious for days, burning with fever, ever since His Majesty ordered the plaque of the Marquisate of Blante removed.”

“She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Completely out of it, as if her soul had left her body.”

The words of Count Forte and the maid echoed in his mind like shards of glass. 

Ariel must have been broken – completely, miserably, irreparably. 

Just as he had wanted. 

A shiver ran down his spine. 

‘What have I done?’ 

At that moment, a small, long-buried question echoed in his mind. 

‘Do I truly feel no remorse?’ 

Kylance clutched at his chest, as if trying to contain the unbearable pressure building inside him, and let out a painful groan. 

‘I regret it. I regret it so much it’s maddening.’ 

But the words stuck in his throat, choking him, and he couldn’t bring himself to say them out loud. 

“Ah… ah…” 

He let out a mournful sound, like a beast mourning the loss of its young. 

And then, amidst the crushing weight of his despair, he came to a single realisation. 

The place he needed to be now wasn’t here. 

It was with Ariel. 

He had to see her. He had to ask for her forgiveness. 

And he had to make things right, even if it cost him his life. 

Watching Kylance, Melish sighed and clicked her tongue. 

“Raise your head. You are the Grand Duke of the North and a member of the Imperial Family. You cannot bow your head so easily -” 

Smack- 

Before Melish’s hand could touch him, Kylance slapped it away. 

When he raised his head, his eyes weren’t on her. 

She had expected him to be sorry. 

The moment her expectations were shattered, Kylance turned his back on her. 

“It seems this will be the last time I see you, Aunt.” 

“Please, stay well.” 

With these cold, final words, Kylance left the room. 

It wasn’t until his figure had disappeared that reality dawned on Melish. She hurriedly pushed open the door and ran after him. 

“Kylance!!” 

She could see his back as he retreated down the stairs. 

She called desperately, her voice frantic, but Kylance did not look back. 

It was as if he would never see her again. 

It couldn’t happen. It mustn’t happen. 

She had raised him, moulded him into what he was now. Only now had he truly become her son. 

They were so close to creating a new Imperial Capital together, to building a future unlike any before. 

Was it all going to fall apart now? 

‘This cannot happen. Never.’ 

“Kylance… Ah!” 

“Madam!!” 

Melishe’s steps faltered and she stumbled to the floor. Caroline rushed to her side and quickly helped her to her feet. 

But by the time she was on her feet, it was too late. 

Kylance was gone. 

Boom! Crash! 

A foreboding thunderclap echoed through the lobby of the empty mansion, filling the silence with its ominous roar. 

—

With a face as cold and unyielding as frost, Kylance stormed out of the Duchy. He didn’t even wait for the coachman to shield him with an umbrella; he ran straight for the carriage. 

But he didn’t get in. 

There was no time to sit idly in a carriage. Not now.

He needed to get to Ariel as soon as possible. For that he needed a horse, not a carriage. 

“Your Highness!” 

Drenched from the rain, Kylance was untying the horse attached to the carriage when Deryl rushed over to him. 

Holding an umbrella over Kylance’s head, Daryl looked at him with a puzzled expression as he watched his master work frantically to free the horse. 

The greater the crisis, the calmer and more rational Kylance would become – this was the man Deryl respected and served. 

But the Kylance who stood before him now was nothing like that calm, calculating leader. 

Kylance’s trembling hands worked impatiently on the reins, as if he didn’t even see Daryl, unable to hide his growing anxiety. 

To make matters worse, his split lip was bleeding, water mixing with the crimson streak and running down his chin. Whatever had happened to the Duchess of Viasteus had left him visibly shaken. 

What on earth had happened? 

For a moment, Deryl was at a loss for words. It wasn’t just the shock of seeing his master in such a state – it was the realisation that nothing he said would reach Kylance now. 

As Daryl stood frozen, Kylance’s harsh voice cut through the rain. 

“Damn it!” 

It was an uncharacteristic curse. 

But there was nothing he could do about it – his rain-soaked hands kept slipping on the reins, frustrating his efforts to untie the horse. 

He had no time to waste. 

Still, the outburst was enough to snap Deryl out of his daze. 

Although countless questions swirled in his mind, Deryl stifled them all. Without a word, he handed the umbrella to the bewildered coachman who had been standing off to the side. 

The heavy rain poured down on his master’s head, but it was clear that Kylance didn’t care about getting wet. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

Daryl said curtly, grabbing the reins that Kylance had been fumbling with. 

He worked quickly, untangling the knots with practiced efficiency. Then he handed the reins to Kylance. 

“Here, Your Highness.” 

For a brief moment, Kylance seemed to regain his composure as his eyes finally landed on Daryl for the first time since leaving the mansion. 

But it was only for a moment. 

Without hesitation Kylance mounted the horse. There was no time to explain. 

“To the Marquisate of Blante.” 

Neigh! 

The black horse reared up, letting out a loud yell before charging forward at full speed. 

Deryl wasted no time and quickly mounted his own horse. Turning to the still stunned guards, he barked sharply, 

“Pull yourselves together and get out of here!” 

The knights quickly mounted their horses and soon the air was filled with the deafening sound of hooves pounding the earth, accompanied by thunder rolling through the heavens as if the gods themselves were angry. 

The rain poured down harder, drenching everything in its path, but Kylance gripped the reins tightly and spurred his horse on, pushing for even greater speed. 

The heavy rain and wind chilled his entire body, but his restless heart burned hot in his chest. 

Ariel. 

Her face, surely broken after learning the truth, lingered in his mind like a haunting specter. Yet an inexplicable sense of foreboding gnawed at him. 

There was no more terrible truth for her to uncover. 

His Aunt had told her everything, and there was no truth left that she didn’t know. 

So there should be no reason for her to break down any further. 

But why? 

Why did this unbearable, insane fear refuse to leave him?