“As expected of a knight—so quick with your hands.”

Roselina’s voice dripped with mockery as she looked down at her spotless dress.
From above, her gaze overflowed with superiority, pleasure, and disdain.

“I’ll call for your lady’s maid,” Laila said quietly.

After picking up the fallen dessert from the floor, she turned and walked out of the parlor.
No one called after her, of course. Roselina had gotten exactly what she wanted, and Carlo… had eyes for no one but her.

“Hah… haah…”

Pain bloomed in Laila’s chest, sharp and suffocating. She struggled to steady her breathing.

Someone asked if she was all right, but she could barely answer—only murmuring that the lady needed her maid—before slipping out of the manor.

***

Later that night, when Carlo finally returned, the day had already bled into darkness.

He looked content, a faint hum on his lips as he entered the room.
That satisfied expression made Laila’s heart ache all over again.

The cold smile on his face, the one that used to be so warm—it no longer belonged to the man she once knew.

“You’re the most precious to me. So you don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

When Laila blamed herself for her faltering swordsmanship, Carlo had once draped his coat over her shoulders and soothed her—begging her, because he hated to see her hurt, to take better care of herself. The warmth that used to pass through that coat was still vivid in her memory, but Carlo had changed. Standing there felt like being frozen in time. Laila’s safety and her efforts were no longer his concern.

“Carlo.”
“Hm, Laila?”

His red eyes flickered at the shadow on her face.
“I promise… tomorrow—”

“Laila, I’m tired today. Can’t we talk later?”

His tone was soft, but it was a flat refusal. A brilliant smile that nearly erased his eyes curved perfectly up to his lips—the same polite reject smile he used for the noblewomen. A smile that said, don’t come any closer.

“Do you really have to see Roselina? Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. If you need papers, I’ll sneak into the duke’s study and take them; if you need someone taken, I’ll bring them to you, even if I have to knock them out.”

Carlo’s gaze turned harsh for a moment. Even though she knew those were the words he hated, Laila couldn’t stop. She could no longer bear to watch him embrace some other woman and laugh.

I’d rather take on the slow, consuming revenge that’s stealing him away—and die for him—than watch him slip from me. I didn’t need to know all the details; I could bear all those wounds myself.

“Laila, stop.”

A cold wind cut between them, but neither seemed willing to yield.

“I’ll do the revenge—everything—for you! So stop living in vengeance and live your life!”

“…What?”

Laila’s voice rose as her emotions boiled over, and Carlo’s expression twisted as if he couldn’t bear to hear it.

“Why are you living like that? Don’t you care about your life? If your mother could see you—”

Smash!

Carlo slammed his hand down on the table at the word mother, glaring at Laila.

“You ask if my life is worthless? If my mother could see me—what could she even do? She’s dead. You know that! You know exactly how she died!”

“Carlo, please—let it go.”

“How can I let it go? My mother was framed because of the emperor’s mistress—falsely accused and forced to die. How can I forget that?”

Carlo stepped so close to Laila that his voice dripped threat.

“Do you know what my mother and I looked like the last time we met?”

“Carlo, please…”

The more Carlo poured out his rage, the more Laila’s heart splintered into tiny shards.

“That bastard—my father—locked me in a room when I begged him to clear my mother’s name. He said I was the same kind of sinner!”

Laila knew it well, too. His mother had been caught at the scene meeting the man who supposedly supplied the poison, and she’d been executed without a noble trial. And because news of the duke’s mistress Sofia being pregnant broke immediately afterward, the whole matter had been swept away in a blink.

“Because my father locked me away, I couldn’t even see my mother when she died. By the time I came out, they’d already taken the body away—I don’t even know where she’s buried. And you tell me to forget? To forget all of this?”

“Carlo.”

Once Carlo exploded, he didn’t know how to stop. Grabbing Laila’s shoulders and shaking her in fury, he drew out a letter that looked old and worn.

“…It’s a letter left by my mother’s maid—the one who vanished without a trace right after the incident. Read it.”

Breathing roughly, Carlo handed the letter to Laila. She began to read slowly—and then she understood why he was so furious.

“My lord. Madam was wronged in her death. Please lift this grievance for her. It is not true that poison was found in Madam’s room, and the witnesses are all lying. Above all, the scene in which Madam supposedly met the man who delivered the poison was a scheme concocted by Sofia.”

“That day, Madam said she was going out to meet her maid’s fiancé, whom she cared for deeply. But that maid betrayed her—she lured Madam there under false pretenses.
I heard with my own ears Sofia ordering that maid to bring Madam to the meeting. In return, the maid received an expensive ruby gemstone. I’ve drawn the gem and its box for you below.
Because I knew this, I barely escaped with my life and am now in hiding. But I cannot live keeping this truth buried.
To prove my words, I’ve enclosed the keepsake Madam left with me, along with this letter.
Please, my lord, clear her name….”

“T-This…!”

Laila’s stomach churned at the sheer cruelty of it all.
How could such malice exist? How could an innocent woman be branded a criminal—for what? For someone else’s greed?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she read the letter, her heart twisting painfully.

“I tried to track down the maid using the keepsake she mentioned,” Carlo said through clenched teeth, “but she was gone. Whether someone silenced her or she vanished on her own—I couldn’t find her.”

He lifted his gaze, fury burning behind his crimson eyes.

“And do you know what else I discovered?”

Carlo’s eyes were raw and bloodshot as he unleashed the torrent of pain he’d been holding inside.
Hearing the anguish he’d kept locked away for so long wasn’t a comfort—it was crushing.

He’d finally realized, with a cold certainty, that the depth of his vengeance would not fade no matter what he did.

“The Empress of Adelina used Sofia to drag my father into her camp.”

Carlo’s father—completely taken with Sofia—had abandoned his neutrality and become a pillar of Empress Scarlet’s faction.

“The family supporting Scarlet is none other than Lady Roselina’s. And the man who handed the poison to my mother was from the Cerclezia Empire. The duke must be hiding him.”

“How the Duke of Cerclezia came to be helping the Adelina Empress, I don’t know—but for now, Laila decided to calm Carlo down. He looked as if the hate he’d carried might consume him at any moment.

“All right. All right—just calm down. I’ll find that man for you. But stop trying to seduce the duchess.”

“You? What can you possibly do? I’ve tried everything to get close to the duke’s house.”

“…Carlo.”

A flash of poison crossed Carlo’s face as Laila tried to steady him.

“There’s only Roselina left. If I win Roselina’s heart, I can get close to that man. Then I’ll find the ones who killed my mother and end this. Once I have the lady, everything will be possible.”

“So you intend to sell your soul to the duchess?”

“I’ll sell it.”

“…!”

“Even if I have to marry her, I will.”

Please… not this to me.

The plea lodged in Laila’s throat but would not form. Carlo left as if he had nothing more to say, leaving Laila trembling with shock.

“You’re even talking about marriage?”

Could he really be thinking that far? To promise a lifetime to a woman he didn’t love.

“W–Why… Carlo, why are you doing this…?”

Her legs gave out beneath her, and Laila sank to the floor.

‘Do you really have to go that far? Am I… truly nothing to you?’

No matter how much distance he put between them, she had believed—perhaps foolishly—that there was something special between them. But now, she wondered if that belief had only ever been a fragile illusion born of false hope.

What should she do now? Was she supposed to just stand by and watch him throw himself into the flames of his own vengeance?

“Haa… haah…”

Could she really bear to see him marry another woman—and remain by his side as nothing more than his knight? Did she even want to?

‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore…’

Laila knew Carlo’s nature—he never gave up once he’d made up his mind. This was only the beginning. He would win Roselina’s heart, and if need be, he would marry her—all for revenge.

Time slipped by mercilessly, and night fell deep and still. Laila lay weakly on her bed, unable to sleep.

She replayed Carlo’s words over and over in her mind, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. Only after an endless cycle of hurt and regret did she finally drift into a restless slumber.

And then, a nightmare swallowed her whole.

— “P-Please… spare me….”

In a cold, desolate space, Laila was begging for mercy.

Her whole body ached—bruised, battered, and broken. There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t throb with pain. The fact that she was still breathing at all felt like a cruel miracle.

The agony was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even tell this was a dream. She didn’t know where she was, or why she was there—only that she was trapped in a place that felt like hell itself.