The Marchioness wiped away the tears that had welled up in her eyes and said.

‘Your brother cannot have children.’

At that time, the Marchioness didn’t give Lydia a detailed explanation, but later, Lydia secretly heard from the family physician that it was due to a side effect from incorrectly using medicine when he was young.

‘So, do you understand? Have two sons and give one to your brother. This is something only you can do, Lydia. Will you promise this pitiful mother that you’ll do it?’

Strangely, Lydia didn’t want to promise, but being the good child she had to be, she linked her finger with her mother’s. Not long after, the Marchioness closed her eyes forever.

Lydia kept this story to herself and didn’t tell anyone. She kept it secret even until she was dragged to the labor camp.

She thought it was loyalty to Devon. Not knowing how ruthlessly he had abandoned her.

“But is this really such a big secret?”

Arsen, who had been quietly listening to the story of how Devon became unable to perform as a man, raised a question.

“Even if this became known, it doesn’t seem like it would be a major blow to the young marquis. Rather, there would be a commotion of people trying to send their own children to be adopted by Marquis Evansi.”

“That’s true.”

Except for his infertility, Devon was the best marriage prospect with a handsome face, good family, and a reputation for having a good personality.

But that only applied in other people’s eyes.

“Our father desperately wants his own bloodline to continue the family. He’s quite obsessive about it. That’s why my mother begged me never to tell father about this before she passed away.”

The Marquis was quite stubborn about such matters.

“Then doesn’t that ruin your plan? I remember your goal was to drive a wedge between the young marquis and the Marquis.”

If the Marquis Evansi valued bloodlines so much, he wouldn’t easily cast Devon aside.

“That’s a good point. But I already have a solution for that too.”

Lydia smiled meaningfully.

“And that’s a real secret.”

It was a trade secret. If she revealed everything, Arsen could use Devon’s secret to make a deal directly with Devon.

Arsen could keep Devon’s secret, and Devon could give Arsen the border region of the marquisate.

‘I won’t let them make deals behind my back.’

Lydia firmly closed her mouth.

“I’m not curious anyway.”

What Arsen was really curious about was whether Lydia would truly live as a priestess in the border region of the marquisate.

“The demonic beasts you saw today aren’t even considered dangerous, they just travel in packs.”

When winter fully arrived, the road they had just traveled would be completely overrun by demonic beasts and become impassable.

One reason for Arsen’s delayed return from the border was not only that the coup took longer than expected but also that the roads were blocked.

“In the border region, demonic beasts appear even in villages where people live. Even with thorough defenses, we can’t block all demonic beasts.”

Wanting to show Lydia the frightening reality, Arsen explained how ferocious and violent the boar-type demonic beasts that appeared in the border region were.

“They’re so intimidating that ordinary people would be frozen in place if they encountered one. They’re nearly ten times the size of an adult man, and their strength……”

The essence of his explanation was this:

Would she still want to live in a dilapidated temple rather than the Edis mansion, which was the safest place in the border region?

“Do demonic beasts often come into the village?”

“There’s a commotion due to demonic beasts at least once a month.”

“Oh dear.”

A worried look flashed across Lydia’s face. Everything was going according to plan. Arsen asked to drive the point home.

“So just stay at the Edis mansion—”

“I’m thinking of learning swordsmanship.”

Arsen and Lydia’s words overlapped.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’ll learn swordsmanship. Wouldn’t it be good if I could protect myself?”

That’s not what I meant. Arsen pressed his forehead as he imagined Lydia wielding a sword as big as her torso.

“I absolutely won’t be a burden to you, Sir.”

Lydia declared resolutely. Arsen sighed briefly.

Isn’t it a burden that I’m anxious about what you might do outside my sight?

Arsen swallowed the words that had risen to the tip of his tongue. Lydia’s answer was predictable, wasn’t it?

‘Don’t worry, Sir! I’ll take good care of myself.’

That wasn’t the kind of answer he wanted to hear when he started this conversation.

He thought she would meekly follow him to the mansion after retching at the sight of a demonic beast, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Just go to sleep. We need to leave early tomorrow morning.”

* * *

Lydia, who had grumbled about going to sleep so early in the evening, fell asleep as soon as she lay on the bed. Despite her protests, it had been an exhausting day both mentally and physically.

While Arsen was accustomed to fighting demonic beasts and traveling long distances, Lydia was a noble lady who had never lifted anything heavier than a water cup.

Moreover, she hadn’t fully recovered from being poisoned and falling ill, so it was bound to be more difficult.

Yet Lydia hadn’t uttered a single word about being tired. Perhaps that made Arsen even more concerned.

If she had at least complained about being tired, he could have taken measures to make things a bit easier, but since she said nothing, there was nothing he could do.

“……”

Even as Arsen maintained his sword by the light of the bonfire coming through the tent, he occasionally checked if Lydia was sleeping well.

Lydia, sleeping soundly, would furrow her brow and then relax it, move her lips and then stop, repeatedly. Was she dreaming?

“……chard.”

Then a thin voice like a moan was heard.

“Don’t …… please, hmm.”

Richard, don’t go?

The rough hands wiping down the sword blade with a white cloth stopped abruptly.

She clearly mumbled “Richard, don’t go.” Tears were even welling up in her tightly closed eyes.

“And she said she hated him.”

So he was still a loved one, regardless? She might hate him, but separately, love still remained?

Well, she was someone who was so obsessed that she drank poison at the imperial palace when he said they should break up.

There might still be feelings left.

But for some reason, a sense of displeasure washed over Arsen. It was similar to the displeasure he felt earlier at the stream when Kedrick took first place in the knight order for his physique.

* * *

Across from Arsen, who roughly sheathed his sword, Lydia was dreaming of the day she last saw Richard’s face.

After her attempt to poison Giselle failed, and Lydia was imprisoned in the imperial dungeon.

Richard had visited just before she was sent to trial.

‘I won’t kill you.’

Even if you had killed Giselle, I wouldn’t have killed you. This is the last consideration I’m showing you. Richard said it as if he were doing her a favor.

‘I think our accounts are now settled.’

You saved me once with our engagement when I was a prince, and now I, as Emperor, am saving you like this. Even though you almost killed the prince.

Saying their accounts were settled, Richard turned away coldly.

Lydia reached out through the prison bars toward Richard and wailed.

Don’t go, she’s scared, please stay a little longer, she’s sorry.

But in the end, Richard left the prison without even looking back at her.

He could have looked back just once, just once.

“Bastard.”

Lydia wiped away her tears as she woke up. Outside the tent, it was noisy despite the early dawn. Arsen had already gotten up and left the tent long ago.

She took a moment to breathe deeply to suppress the rising anger. Above all, she needed to stay calm. Putting anger first increased the chances of revenge failing.

Getting angry could wait until after she succeeded in her revenge.

“I’ll do the same to you.”

I won’t kill you. After all, it’s a life I spared by wasting my heart.

But you won’t live comfortably. I’ll make sure of that.

* * *

Meanwhile, Marquis Evansi’s carriage had traveled through the night toward the capital. By dawn, the Marquis had already passed through the checkpoint and was heading to his townhouse in the capital.

“Ungrateful child.”

After raising his eldest son with such care and love, he prepares a coffin and tells his father to die?

The Marquis felt a headache coming on from the overwhelming sense of betrayal.

But at the same time, he felt that he should embrace his son, forgive his own blood.

Struggling between these ambivalent feelings, the Marquis smoothed his furrowed brow as the carriage stopped.

As the Marquis got out of the carriage with the help of the lord’s castle butler, Devon ran out to greet him.

“Father!”

He sniffled like he’s truly relieved that his father had recovered, but the Marquis only felt complicated by his son’s detestable acting.

“Devon.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Is it true that you tried to adopt Giselle into our family?”

* * *

“Is Father alright?”

“Yes, you can consider the White Ghost disease almost completely cured at this point.”

“He doesn’t look well.”

“That’s because he’s tired from traveling all night. He’ll be fine after resting for a few days.”

Devon’s lower eyelids trembled as he thanked the physician for his hard work.

If he hadn’t planted someone at the checkpoint where people entered the capital walls, he wouldn’t have known the Marquis was coming.

Devon hated to imagine what would have happened if the Marquis had discovered the coffin.