After the memorial service ended, Leandro moved to a quieter spot and explained the circumstances to the child.

The decision to abandon the village had not been his. He had merely followed orders.

If the child was to be raised as his heir, the truth would not matter. At least, that’s what Leandro told himself.

He arrogantly assumed that the child would follow him.

“…Why would I go with you? You look mean. I don’t like you.”

The answer was rejection.

And to be told he looked mean—Leandro let out a short, incredulous laugh at the boldness of it.

“Wouldn’t it still be better to follow someone mean than to be alone? Besides, if you come with me, you’ll be able to eat as much delicious food as you like.”

He tried to persuade using words that did not come naturally to him.

Usually, he would have spoken in terms of profit and advantage. But standing before a child who had just lost both parents, he did not want to speak that way.

“…Do you think I’m a child? Of all things, you’re tempting me with food?”

“You’re still at an age where you need an adult’s protection. I’ll raise you until you’re grown. Become my heir.”

There was no need to go to such lengths. It was a losing bargain for him alone.

The child looked no older than thirteen. It would take a long time to educate them properly. Teaching them noble manners and speech would take even longer.

In fact, they might never change at all.

“I still don’t want to. An heir? Nobles have so much they have to learn.”

Was it because of his tall, silver eyes, which were so reminiscent of Larne’s?

He could not fathom why he was acting so desperately towards a child who was clearly unwilling to follow him.

“I see…”

Even Leandro did not understand why he was being so impulsive, so irrational.

The child was saying no.

It was not Larne who was rejecting him.

“I’m not going. I like it here. If I leave this place, then… I feel like I’ll forget them too quickly. I don’t want that.”

With those words, the child turned and walked away.

“Ah, the child simply doesn’t understand yet. To turn down the position of heir to a marquisate…”

Killian watched the child’s retreating figure fretfully. However, Leandro no longer felt any urge to stop them.

If he forced them into a situation they hadn’t chosen, they would eventually want to break free, just as someone else had done.

“No. I was too hasty. The child hasn’t even had time to mourn their parents.”

It was only a simple rejection. And yet—why did it make him think of Larne?

“We should end this now. I don’t think I can love you for the rest of my life.”

He remembered the first time Larne had spoken those words to him.

‘I don’t think I can love you for the rest of my life.’

Why was that line surfacing now?

Because he kept being rejected?

Leandro could not hide the bitterness rising in him.

“…That’s enough. Don’t blame anyone else. And see that you keep an eye on that child.”

With that, he rose to his feet.

“Yes—yes, of course.”

“And now… I think I’d like to leave. Prepare the carriage.”

***

Ordinarily, he would have ridden on horseback. But his condition was far from ideal.

‘Perhaps I should have waited until I was fully recovered.’

The longer he sat in the carriage, the more he thought about Larne.

In fact, he grew tired of himself.

Leandro rested his head against the window. The carriage continued until it suddenly stopped at the entrance to a forest.

Before he could ask why, the knight driving the carriage spoke up.

“Your Grace, at this pace we may need to make camp. Shall we take a detour and pass through the Atrice territory?”

The name Atrice caught him off guard.

Leandro hesitated.

Given how quickly she had arrived when she heard he had collapsed, it was highly likely that Larne was staying in Atrice’s territory.

“Is there any need for that?”

“The village we’re passing through is too small. There are no lodgings that can accommodate this many people, and more importantly, there is no doctor. It rained unexpectedly last night, so some of the medicinal herbs were ruined.”

At the mention of last night, Leandro let out a long sigh.

“They said the supplies were mixed up in the confusion. The antidotal herbs are intact, but we’ve lost the pain medication.”

“That’s fine. I can endure without it.”

In truth, the pain had been so severe that even the medicine had offered little relief.

Each time he moved, a subtle but persistent ache tightened across his body, drawing a faint crease between his brows.

“Even so… the rest of us can manage sleeping outdoors, but Your Grace is still a patient. What if it rains again?”

Detouring through the Atrice territory was the sensible choice.

Yet the words would not come easily.

“…I cannot ask my former wife for help. Our schedule is already tight.”

Leandro’s injury was now irrelevant to Larne. If she rejected him outright and cited the divorce mediation, he wouldn’t be able to argue with her.

He did not want to face that.

He did not want to return to the quagmire he had created for himself.

“But—”

“Just make sure the antidotal herbs are properly preserved.”

With that, Leandro shut the carriage door.

***

The camp they set up that evening bore no resemblance to those Leandro remembered.

Things that would once have gone unnoticed now irritated him: the relentless chirping of insects and the whisper of the wind through the trees, for example.

Even when he was lying alone inside the carriage, he could find no comfort.

It seemed the painkillers had been doing far more than he had realized. The moment he stopped taking them, he felt the change immediately. Pain blurred his vision, and with every slight movement, he became acutely aware of each muscle in his body, as though he could feel them shifting one by one.

He felt as though he were standing on the brink of death.

“…Perhaps I should have stopped there.”

The realization came too late. Leandro lowered his head.

It wasn’t just the fear of rejection that had stopped him from entering the area.

It was that man.

Although they had only crossed paths a few times, Leandro could remember his face with painful clarity: dark green eyes and soft, orange hair. The man who had taken his place beside Larne at the banquet. The man who accompanied her even to the borderlands.

What if he was in the Atrice territory now?

What if someone else was standing beside Larne now, and she never looked back at him again?

In his nightmares, it was always that man who led Larne away. In every dream, Leandro could do nothing but stand there, powerless.

He had never been gentle. Never kind. Just as Larne had once said. A man who fit her ideal so perfectly would be able to take her hand and guide her away without any resistance.

He had no right to object.

The vivid, merciless image surfaced again and Leandro squeezed his eyes shut.

At this rate, he wouldn’t sleep at all tonight.

After a brief hesitation, he stepped out of the carriage.

At the faint sound, the knights standing guard turned towards him immediately.

“Your Grace, why have you come out?”

They were deep within the forest, where the wind was cold and sweeping. One of the knights draped a cloak over Leandro’s shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep. I’ll walk for a moment and return. Pay me no mind.”

He turned away, but several knights followed close behind him.

“At least come sit by the fire.”

Leandro said nothing and continued walking.

“Are you feeling much worse? Shall we send someone now to fetch herbs for the pain?”

At that, Leandro offered a faint, bitter smile.

“No. I appreciate the thought. The horses must be exhausted as well.”

As he exchanged these trivial words with them, he felt himself gradually ease.

He did not have to dwell on the thoughts that tangled his mind, nor on the pain pressing down on his body.

It was in the middle of such idle conversation that another knight, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke.

“The wind is cold. Perhaps it would be best to return inside soon.”

“Is my presence here inconvenient?”

“Not at all. But we are deeply concerned about your condition. Even now… you seem to be trembling.”

“That’s not true, Your Grace, stay a while longer. Ignore him—he has no tact…”

Had it really been that obvious?

Was he really so disorganized that he couldn’t hide it at all?

Leandro watched the knights quietly bicker.

Perhaps they had forgotten he was standing there. The two men looked entirely at ease as they argued in low voices.

Leandro stared at them for a long moment.

Then he rose.

A strange feeling crept through his body.