Of course, Lumiere immediately bit her lip after saying this.

I must be crazy.

But before she could regret and take back her words, Landers burst into a cheerful laugh with wide eyes.

“Well, that would’ve been amusing if I had said that.”

Her words seemed to have pleased him, as even his voice turned lively.

“But unfortunately, I don’t know enough about Miss Lumiere to claim to be your lover. However, I am eager to learn more about you.”

If Karl Winger had a raw, rugged wildness about him, this man felt like a highly refined, expensive gemstone that had been polished for years.

A costly jewel meticulously crafted by an artisan over years, making it burdensome to hold, uncomfortable, and difficult to handle carelessly—Landers Tartien gave off that kind of vibe.

“Your paintings have greatly benefited our family. Although I couldn’t express my gratitude due to the unfortunate accident, I would love to invite you again. I mean it.”

“Yes, if the opportunity arises, I will certainly accept the invitation.”

Lumiere lied with a perfectly crafted smile, maintaining her utmost politeness.

The Tartien estate.

No, considering Tartien’s status, it was probably a castle, not just an estate.

Regardless of what happened in the past, she had no desire to go there now.

Landers Tartien gave her a peculiar look, nodded, and boarded his expensive carriage.

The carriage carrying him finally disappeared from the Lashantia estate.

“He’s finally gone.”

Just as Lumiere sighed in relief and turned to head back to the house.

Tamia came running out, holding something in her hand as if she had been waiting.

“Tamia?”

“Wait a moment, Miss.”

“…What is that?”

“Salt.”

…Salt?

Tamia smiled brightly, holding a handful of salt in her small palm, and carefully sprinkled it at the entrance.

“My grandmother said this would ward off bad luck.”

There was a subtle glint of madness in Tamia’s clear eyes.

Lumiere had seen that look in Tamia’s eyes a few times when she was younger.

Like when she found out that Sanchez in the stables had been molesting a distant cousin.

Or when she discovered that the maid Mrs. Senus was secretly drugging her and stealing her belongings.

And both of those people had disappeared from the estate at some point.

…But when did Tamia see Landers Tartien to be so repulsed by him?

She was puzzled but merely shrugged.

Nervous, fainting, and nervous again.

It had been an exhausting day.

She just wanted to rest.

* * *

The black castle where the unfortunate king spent most of his time.

The northern palace, Luferia.

Among them, the king’s bedroom was in the most secluded place, with no sunlight and very little noise.

The dark and vast bedroom was filled with an almost suffocating silence.

Rustle, rustle.

The only sound was that of Brook Berels, the king’s personal physician, assisting with the king’s ‘preparations.’

Brook lifted the foul-smelling, rotten fake skin with nervous hands.

It was pig skin specially treated to look like human skin.

‘Phew, the first close-up makeup in almost three months.’

Usually, he didn’t use the foul-smelling rotten skin.

Few dared to approach him closely in the king’s castle.

But now it was different.

He had to meet someone in a much smaller bedroom than the audience room, and the person was not someone to be taken lightly.

So Brook Berels meticulously crafted the fake wounds.

Sweat beaded on the old doctor’s forehead from the intense focus after such a long time.

Well, it had been three months since the last makeup.

‘Three months.’

The young king had boldly left his position for a full three months.

Even with a double, it was a reckless absence.

Because of this, Brook, the king’s personal physician, had to continue a dangerous lie for three months.

‘Thanks to that, I’ve aged another five years.’

The old hands applied the specially treated rotten pig skin to the king’s firm and smooth skin.

Today, his wrinkles and thinness seemed particularly pronounced.

As he sighed softly at his slightly trembling old hands, the keen-eared king opened his eyes and looked at him.

“You seem unusually nervous today, Brook.”

“Your Majesty always puts this old physician to the test.”

“Asking for help from a wise and intelligent doctor is a test? How could that be?”

He sure knows how to talk. Just talk.

Brook sighed exaggeratedly, his lips twitching.

“I heard you’ve been doing business outside, and your words have become more convincing. As expected, you are an excellent ruler in every aspect.”

“You flatter me.”

The king’s silent smile was dazzling.

His appearance was truly captivating.

‘To think such a dazzling person lives with rotten pig skin…’

Brook concealed his ancient sorrow as he finished the skin application.

Even after doing this for over ten years, seeing the completed look always left him feeling devastated.

Half of the face was disfigured with burn scars, and all visible skin was covered with festering, rotten patches.

His once proud and upright posture became hunched, and his brilliant golden eyes dulled.

Even the best actors couldn’t perform this perfectly.

The king had consistently played the role of the ‘poor prince who barely survived the flames’ for over ten years.

Such a long time was enough for a person’s character to align with the created persona.

A prince who barely survived the brink of death and bore disfigurements.

Creating ‘Karl Winger’ was also to avoid being consumed by the role of ‘Laedro.’

Karl slowly exhaled the breath he had deeply inhaled.

The once proud shoulders slumped, and the sharp eyes dulled.

The furrowed brows filled with irritation, the tightly pursed lips.

‘This is all just an act.’

Karl reminded himself once more of the words he had repeated countless times.

These moments of misfortune were all self-inflicted and fabricated.

So, I will never.

Be defeated by this fabricated misfortune.

‘My destination is not here.’

His true self was Karl Winger.

The current image of surviving as a king was a fabricated lie.

His destination was not far.

‘…So I can endure it.’

Karl climbed onto the bed slowly, like someone who could barely move.

Leaning against the large, soft bed, he stared at the door ahead.

Meanwhile, Brook took out bandages stained with fake blood and pus from his bag.

He soaked a towel in a yellowish substance that looked like pus and arranged everything on the table for the attendants to take care of.

Then he looked back at Karl.

“Are you ready, Your Majesty?”

Karl answered with a nod.

I can endure it.

I can bear it.

I can endure it until all the truths are revealed and their downfall is brought about.

‘And when all this is over.’

…Karl closed his eyes and thought of the luscious red hair and jewel-like green eyes.

‘Without any pretense, lies, or shadows, with you, only with you…’

At that moment, Lumiere’s voice brushed past Karl’s ear.

‘…I really don’t know who you are. I have no memories of you.’

He forced himself to control his face, which was about to contort involuntarily.

It didn’t matter if she had forgotten him for a while.

Even if Lumiere had forgotten him, the past where they loved each other wouldn’t disappear.

His love for her still remained in his heart like a burn scar.

Karl struggled to suppress his growing anguish.

Lumiere was the only solace he had.

Her love healed him and allowed him to breathe.

Even if she had forgotten him, it was only natural that he couldn’t let go of it.

She was his entire joy.

She was the only reason he could endure and look forward to tomorrow…

His head throbbed, having not slept properly for over two weeks.

Thanks to that, he thought he could perform the role of the irritable and suffering king more easily.

He slowly inhaled and spoke.

His voice was hoarse as if he had just woken up.

“Summon the Duke.”