He would set things right. 

If he couldn’t bring the dead Marquis back to life, he would at least restore the honour of the Marquisate of Blante – even if it cost him his own life. 

Falsifying evidence of treason was a capital crime. 

The moment he revealed the truth, the nobles would rise up against him, and no matter how much the Emperor favoured him, punishment would be inevitable. 

He would lose everything, but the Marquisate of Blante would regain its lost reputation. 

His wealth too. 

Yes, he would be the one to fall, and Ariel would return to her rightful place. 

That’s how it would end. 

So why… why was he so afraid? 

The relentless thunder echoed in his ears. 

The sky roared as if it was about to collapse, as if whispering to him: 

‘I won’t be able to fix anything. It’s already too late.’

And yet it felt as if Ariel was going to disappear… just like that. 

Just as his parents had done on that fateful day. 

Kylance bit down hard on his lip as the horrific scenes from his past flashed through his mind. The wound on his already split lip deepened and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He swallowed the blood and forced himself to shake off the creeping fear. 

‘It’s all my imagination. Ariel won’t disappear.’ 

‘Ariel won’t disappear.’ 

He repeated the words to himself like a chant, as if trying to brainwash his own mind, and spurred his horse into a desperate gallop towards the Marquisate. 

—

When had it started?

When had his premonitions of dread stopped missing their mark? 

This time was no exception. 

The gates of the Marquisate of Blante were wide open, unguarded, as if something catastrophic had happened. 

Although the Marquisate had fallen into ruin, the Emperor had not yet issued an order for its official dissolution. 

But for the gate to the manor to be left unguarded? 

It could only mean one of two things: 

Either someone had attacked the manor, or the guards had been mobilised to look for someone. 

Either way, it meant that Ariel’s safety was in jeopardy. 

“Why is the gate…” 

Deryl stopped mid-sentence as he sensed that something had happened to the Blante family. When his anxious gaze turned to Kylance, Kylance snapped back to his senses and kicked the side of his horse.

The horse, pausing for a moment, burst through the wide open gates and raced towards the manor house. 

The carriage bearing the crest of the Forte family parked in front of the mansion, and the mansion illuminated with lit lights.

It wasn’t an attack by assassins. 

Which meant… 

Kylance dismounted, unable to finish his thought. The faster his steps became, the clearer the sound of a woman crying reached his ears. 

‘Ariel?’ 

But as he stepped into the lobby, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. 

It wasn’t Ariel. 

It was Ariel’s aunt, the Countess of Argen, collapsed on the floor in front of Count Forte, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Kylance’s heart sank. 

For deep down, he had hoped the crying voice belonged to Ariel. 

It wasn’t that he wanted her to cry. 

But if it had been Ariel, at least he could have felt some relief, knowing that she hadn’t disappeared from this mansion. 

But… it wasn’t her. 

And then Ariel’s cousin, Jedran, spoke. 

“I’m sorry… the horse slipped in the mud and fell… but I should have kept after her somehow… I’m so sorry. I lost Ariel.” 

“Ah… Ariel…” 

The Countess of Argen clutched a piece of paper to her chest and wept uncontrollably. 

At that moment, Kylance felt all his senses freeze. 

It was as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice. 

Ariel was truly gone. 

He had to beg for her forgiveness, to make things right… but Ariel was gone. 

As the world spun before Kylance’s eyes, Count Forte turned his head and spoke. 

“It is not your fault that Lady Blante is gone. You were hurt badly too, weren’t you? Even if you had tried to go after her in your condition, you wouldn’t have been able to catch her. So let’s concentrate on treating your injuries first…”

The count was about to call a servant to help Jedran, who was covered in mud and dishevelled from the fall from his horse. 

Had it not been for the figure standing like a statue near the entrance to the lobby of the mansion. 

Count Forte’s lips moved slowly. 

“…Your Grace, the Grand Duke.” 

Kylance slowly lifted his eyes. 

The moment his eyes met Count Forte’s, someone suddenly rushed towards him. 

It was Ariel’s cousin, Jedran. 

Jedran grabbed Kylance by the collar and shouted angrily, 

“You despicable bastard! What are you doing here? Have you come to witness the ruin of the Blante family that you destroyed?! To watch Ariel fall apart?!”

“……” 

Jedran raised his fist, as if ready to strike at any moment. 

“Jedran!” 

“Viscount!” 

The Countess of Argen and Count Forte screamed in alarm at the sight, but Jedran had already lost all semblance of reason. 

His only cousin had left the house and left a suicide note – how could he remain sane? 

“But what now? Ariel, the one you came to see, is no longer in this mansion.”

“……” 

Jedran shouted, his eyes bloodshot, 

“Thanks to you, Ariel has gone to die.” 

She left only one note, blaming herself for everything. 

Jedran’s low, bitter remark pierced Kylance’s ears with devastating clarity. 

Thud- 

It felt as if a massive stone had been dropped on Kylance’s head. 

‘A suicide note.’ 

Ariel had left a note and disappeared. 

Kylance’s stomach churned, nausea rising to his throat. The image of Ariel’s cold, lifeless body over the bodies of his parents, whose eyes hadn’t even closed in death, flashed vividly in his mind. 

Just as his mind was about to collapse, Deryl entered the mansion, sword drawn, and shouted at Jedran. 

“How dare you lay hands on His Grace, the Grand Duke! Release him immediately or I’ll have your head for the crime of attempting to harm a member of the Imperial Family!” 

Deryl’s fierce killing intent filled the room, and for a moment it seemed that bloodshed was inevitable. 

Under the intense aura of threat, Kylance quickly came to his senses and grasped the reality of the situation. 

Kylance raised his hand in Deryl’s direction. 

“Deryl, step back.” 

“Your Grace…” 

Deryl hesitated, his gaze shifting to Jedran, who still had a firm grip on Kylance’s collar. After a brief pause, he reluctantly lowered his sword. 

Only then did Kylance face Jedran directly. He didn’t tell him to let go of his collar, nor did he ask him how he dared to touch a member of the Imperial family. 

He asked only one thing. 

“Where did you lose Ariel?” 

“What?” 

Jedran stared at Kylance, stunned, as if he had misheard him. 

In this situation, the last question he expected Kylance to ask was where he had lost Ariel. 

Why would the man who had pushed Ariel to the brink now ask for her whereabouts? 

Jedran tightened his grip on Kylance’s collar, his anger boiling over as he prepared to speak. 

“Stop this nonsense and get lost.” 

Had Kylance not bowed his head, Jedran might have continued to shout. 

But Kylance, head bowed, spoke in a desperate voice that echoed through the lobby. 

“I will ask for forgiveness after I have saved Ariel. So please… just tell me where you lost her.” 

A Grand Duke, ruler of the North, bowed his head. 

And into the ruined Marquisate, now a shadow of its former glory. 

It was an act no one could have imagined from Kylance, and the tense atmosphere of the lobby fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. 

Even Deryl, his ever-loyal assistant, froze as if struck by lightning. 

Boom-Crack! 

A deafening clap of thunder shattered the silence and rumbled through the lobby. 

It was Jedran who recovered first. His grip on Kylance’s collar loosened and he finally let go. 

Perhaps it was the unexpected nature of Kylance’s actions that had shocked him so deeply, but the fiery rage within Jedran cooled to ice. 

He stared at Kylance in silence, his head still bowed. 

It was a sight that might have resembled a dethroned emperor who had lost his kingdom – Kylance exuded a despair so deep it was impossible to measure its depth. 

Yet Jedran felt no pity. 

Instead, he felt nothing but disbelief. 

The despair Kylance seemed to feel was real, and that made it all the more absurd. 

It was ridiculous that Kylance would behave like this after all this time. 

Jedran, who had been wearing a grotesque expression of rage, smoothed his features and replaced them with a cold, bitter sneer. 

“What if I refuse? First of all, what right do you have to worry about Ariel’s whereabouts? When you cruelly abandoned her, you didn’t care, and now you’re here claiming you regret it? Stop the nonsense. I won’t be fooled by your hypocrisy. So go back—this is a family matter. It’s disgusting to even see your face any longer.”

The moment Jedran finished speaking, everyone except Kylance and Deryl gasped in shock. 

Jedran had just dared to insult a member of the Imperial family to his face. 

Grabbing his collar was a crime punishable by death, but to insult him again? 

It was an unforgivable act of defiance. 

You could tell by the way Deryl’s face twisted in anger. 

As if unable to hold back any longer, Deryl’s grip on his sword tightened, his intention to act clear. 

Just as the tension reached its peak, the Countess of Argen, her face pale with terror, jumped to her feet and called out to her son. 

“Jedran!” 

The Countess of Argen cried, terrified that at this rate she might lose both her son and Ariel. 

But before she could beg Kylance for mercy, he spoke first. 

He said Jedran was right.