Chapter 14: The Weight of Love

“So just how great was your love? How great that you could make such a decision without hesitation?”

“My entire world was you, and you were the reason I lived. That’s how much I loved you.”

It was the only truth Elana had spoken to him today, yet she wore a distant expression, as if recounting something from a long-forgotten past.

“That love sounds awfully light.”

“Even if I truly loved you, that wouldn’t make the evidence of treason disappear.”

Hiding her emotions was easy.

Wrapping them in lies was even easier.

It was only the knowledge that she had to deceive him that made her heart ache.

Elana looked him straight in the eye, utterly brazen.

“Heh!”

Calliod was so taken aback he couldn’t even speak.

How could she say something like that?

How could she show not even a shred of guilt?

The fact that he had even once tried to understand her, had tried to treat her with some semblance of humanity, made him feel like a complete fool.

“If it’s to survive, what wouldn’t I do? Back then, you and I were bound together out of duty, and this time, it’s out of necessity—so let’s keep it at that. I did my best then, and I’ll do my best now. By your side.”

Elana looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment, but for that very reason, she raised her chin even higher, meeting his gaze and forcing a smile.

“This time, since it’s a game you and I have arranged together, I suppose I can put it this way—show no mercy, no consideration. Kill her.”

Her last words were chillingly cold as she turned away.

“So this is revenge, then? Because I didn’t return your love?”

His voice caught up to the back of her head as she walked away.

The low, heavy tone wrapped around her ankles, halting her steps.

She took in a small breath before answering.

“…Even if that’s how you felt, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Was your love even love? Or was it just a fleeting amusement, a toy you played with until you got bored?”

“If that’s how you feel, then I can’t help that either.”

Elana gripped her skirts tightly so he couldn’t catch hold of her again, then all but fled the prison.

She scrubbed at the cheek where his hand had touched and pounded at her racing chest.

Calliod, left unable to stop her, cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair.

His chest felt oppressively heavy, as if a boulder had been dropped onto it.

Knowing full well that Robellina had been the worst that day, any remnants of forgiveness he had set aside for Elana were now completely gone.

“Dammit!”

Bang!

His boot slammed into the prison bars with all his strength.

The iron shook violently, flakes of rust scattering to the ground.

He clenched the fist that had touched her face, as though gripping someone’s very life.

Calliod then strode straight toward Robellina, thinking that at the very least, she probably wouldn’t go raving about seeing a ghost this time.

***

For Elana, who had just returned from the rear garden to retrieve the evidence for the excuse she’d given to Geranine and Camela, disaster struck like a bolt from the blue.

“Not a shred of consideration.”

“This is absurd. Who does something this sudden?”

Geranine and Camela lamented as they worked in a flurry.

No sooner had Calliod finished meeting with Robellina than he sent word to Elana:

“In four hours, we will hold the wedding and depart immediately. Be ready.”

At the sudden notice, Geranine and Camela were scrambling to prepare Elana’s wedding and pack her belongings.

“I can’t believe they’re rushing this like this!”

Geranine lamented as she hastily laid out dresses that could barely be called wedding gowns.

The beige dress in her hands was thrown onto the bed in frustration.

Camela, packing what could only be described as meager belongings for someone of princess rank, let out a small sigh.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her mother’s back in comfort.

“Mother.”

“Honestly! It’s bad enough that they’re leaving at once, but to hold a wedding in this ridiculous manner?!”

Camela, holding onto the fuming Geranine, also looked hurt.

She was even more upset because Elana had not permitted her and Geranine to accompany her to Gladius.

“Your Highness, can’t you at least ask them to postpone it by a day? I’ll go speak to them myself.”

It seemed Geranine could no longer stand it.

Even for a hastily arranged wedding, this was going too far.

She didn’t hope for as much as a week—just a single day to allow them some breathing room.

“Their goal is to stabilize public sentiment through marriage to Your Highness, isn’t it? How does this appearance win hearts? They’re doing this because they think it’s more effective to show something tangible than just offer words.”

Geranine was right.

Insisting on holding the wedding in Cliphes was meant to minimize the resistance of a populace whose country had changed overnight, and to help them ease more naturally into life under the new empire.

At the same time, marrying a powerless and pitiable princess—a princess who wasn’t even a first wife—was meant to convey to the public that the new emperor was a ruler of warm and generous character.

Elana silently observed them before quietly rising to her feet.

‘I can’t just stand by and watch.’

After Geranine and Camela had been forcibly driven from the palace, the royal court had filled entirely with Robellina’s people.

Because of that, the two had no one they could trust, no one to ask for help.

And with the devastation of war on top of it, relying on others had become even more difficult.

Given the situation, Elana couldn’t simply sit back and watch them flounder on their own.

“Wait here a moment.”

“We’ll come with—”

“No. I’ll go alone.”

She wasn’t in any position to make demands.

If they went together, there was no telling what misfortune might befall them.

Elana firmly shook her head and left the room.

For now, she had nothing, and she could do nothing, but at the very least she wanted to protect the people she had finally regained.

As she made her way down the corridor and descended a flight of stairs, the weighty sound of military boots followed her.

“I should meet my husband-to-be. Where is he?”

Elana was someone who knew exactly which words to use in a given situation to have the greatest effect on the other person.

She deliberately chose the word husband as she inquired about Calliod’s whereabouts.

The men who had been shadowing her remained silent for a moment before one of them stepped forward.

“Follow me.”

The place they led her to was one she knew all too well.

The Duke of Ridges’ office.

It had not been used for that purpose in many years, but until just eight years ago, this had been the office set aside for the Duke of Ridges within the royal palace.

Elana unconsciously clenched her teeth.

Memories of the kind and gentle Duke of Ridges came rushing toward her with frightening speed, tormenting her.

Her eyes began to sting of their own accord.

The faint fever from her lingering cold seemed to flare, making her body feel hot.

Even breathing in was an effort, and from the irritation in her throat came a cough.

“…Cough.”

The cough she had barely managed to suppress in front of Geranine and Camela burst out again and again.

Elana quickly pulled out her handkerchief to cover her mouth, then stepped back a few paces from the door where she had been standing, waiting for Calliod’s permission.

Click.

The knight who had gone into the office came back out.

“He says to wait.”

It seemed it would not be a short wait, but Elana simply nodded in acceptance.

She tucked the handkerchief back into her pocket and straightened her posture.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sound of the second hand on the clock at the end of the corridor grew sharper and clearer.

The passage of time pressed forward, inescapable.

Yet Elana made no move, doing nothing but waiting for the door to open.

In that time, a number of people passed before her, entering and leaving the office.

Each one stole glances at the lone princess standing there and then at the clock.

Two o’clock.

The wall-mounted grandfather clock struck twice.

Three hours left.

At this rate, she would be wed without so much as a proper gown or even a bouquet in hand.

Having stood silently for over an hour, Elana suppressed another cough and finally knocked on the office door.

“It’s me.”

Her light knock was accompanied by her soft, delicate voice.

But there was no sound from within.

Undeterred, she knocked again.

This cold treatment was nothing new—hardly enough to break her will after all this time.

She simply accepted it, unshaken, and continued doing what she had come to do.

It was only those watching Elana who felt the discomfort.

“I understand it’s urgent, but we can’t prepare a wedding like this. I’m not asking for much time—just one day. Give us that small bit of breathing room. You can torment me all you want, but at least let my people—”

Just then, bang! The door swung open.