Chapter 2
A sound echoed in her ears. Someone kept calling her.
Ludice tried to open her eyes.
But her body wouldn’t obey.
“Du…… …!”
Her head throbbed, the pitch-black sky spun in circles. A sickening churn in her stomach came and went, as if her blood were being drained and refilled again and again.
The moment she thought she might collapse—
“……! ……nim!”
“Lady Ludice!”
Gasp!
Sound and color suddenly rushed in, pulling Ludice awake.
Like bursting out from underwater, her breath exploded out at once, her heart pounding so hard it shook her whole body.
“Are you all right?”
Her blurred vision slowly came together into one, and she saw a man standing before her.
She followed the worried voice with her eyes and recognized a familiar face.
Phil Evans.
Her aide who had stayed by her side to the very end, dying together with her.
“……Even in death you’re still beside me. Truly, your fate is as bitter as mine.”
“What?”
Phil stared at her, bewildered.
Ludice blinked a couple of times, her mind lagging behind the scene before her.
Something was off.
“But you died, didn’t you?”
“What are you saying, my lady?”
Phil frowned at her in confusion.
No way.
Ludice looked around.
Phil Evans—alive, younger than she remembered.
An old-fashioned bookcase lined with books.
The duke’s office, not yet showing the wear she remembered.
For four years after Quinlan’s death, leading the Ducal House alone had not been easy.
Ludice had never bothered to refurbish the office furniture, letting it grow old since only she used it. But now—
Everything is still intact.
As Ludice looked about instead of answering, Phil spoke again, almost pleading.
“Please, send reinforcements to the Duke right away. Time is of the essence!”
“Reinforcements?”
“Yes!”
The words struck a familiar chord.
Only then did Ludice look him straight in the eye.
The brown-haired man could not hide his impatience as he pressed her.
“This is by the Duke’s order. He commanded me to ask you to mobilize as many troops as possible.”
Strange.
Ludice blinked her golden eyes. This scene was too familiar.
And what came next was…
“Of course, His Highness the Crown Prince said he would send soldiers, but—”
“Of course, His Highness the Crown Prince said he would send soldiers, but—”
“But he felt uneasy, so he begged that you appeal to His Majesty the Emperor for rear support…”
“But he felt uneasy, so he begged that you appeal to His Majesty the Emperor for rear support…”
As Ludice’s muttered words overlapped perfectly with his, Phil flinched, his expression tightening.
He pursed his lips, brow furrowed, before pressing on.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not joking. We must petition His Majesty at once—”
“The Emperor won’t send reinforcements.”
“……!”
At her quiet words, Phil’s face drained of color.
Yes, the Emperor never sent reinforcements.
On the surface, it looked like Quinlan was holding the line well, and the war wasn’t dire. Besides, the Crown Prince had volunteered to send troops himself, which seemed reassuring enough.
“The Crown Prince did send an army, as promised. They just arrived too late.”
After Quinlan was already dead.
Phil stared at her, dumbfounded, not comprehending.
Only then did Ludice truly see his face. He was younger. Younger than in her memory.
Impossible.
Just once! Just give me one more chance.
Had her desperate wish been granted?
Phil Evans had stayed with her even after Quinlan’s death, serving loyally as her aide. Though he once despised her, in the end he became one of the few she could trust in the Ducal House.
And though he had died so unjustly—
Phil has come back too!
Ludice could only stare in silence at her aide standing before her.
Her gaze, wordless and fixed, made Phil frown openly in displeasure.
“So you mean you won’t act now? Please, send reinforcements!”
“Is this… a dream?”
“What?”
Phil gave her a look as if she’d lost her mind.
But the reason Ludice knew what he would say was simple.
Because she had replayed this moment over and over, hundreds, thousands of times—regretting, and regretting again.
“Phil, is Quinlan still alive?”
At that, Phil’s face twisted.
“What nonsense is this? If he weren’t alive, how would I be here?”
Haa…
Ludice covered her face with clasped hands. She felt on the verge of tears.
Quinlan was alive.
Quinlan.
That man was alive.
Whether this was dream or not, it didn’t matter. Just knowing he was alive filled her with joy.
She lowered her hands and straightened her gaze. Though pale, her eyes shone firmer than before as they fixed on Phil.
“Quinlan is in the White Valley now, isn’t he? Before the final battle with the barbarians?”
“……How can it be the final battle when the war is still going on?”
“Right. The war isn’t over yet, so it’s not the last battle.”
Ludice swallowed back the swell of emotion.
It was four years ago. Whoever had done it, her wish had been answered. She had been sent back to that time she had longed for so desperately.
This isn’t just a dream…
She should be dead.
But if it was a dream, so what? She had only one thing to do.
Slowly, Ludice rose to her feet.
Phil, ready to argue, froze and watched her.
As she moved, his face lit with hope. Her determined stride out of the office was unfamiliar, yet it didn’t matter.
Perhaps it was only his imagination, but her back looked dependable.
If the Duchess acted for the Duke’s sake, then he could do anything.
“Are you going to petition His Majesty for support?”
Phil knew the truth too.
That only a skeleton force remained in Defania to defend their lands.
If Quinlan had asked for reinforcements, it wasn’t to conscript their people.
That’s why, in the past, we went to the Emperor…
And it had seemed natural. The House of Defania was of imperial blood, founding heroes of the Empire. The Emperor’s own half-brother had raised his sibling to the throne, pledging a thousand years of loyalty. Of course they’d expect reinforcements.
But that was a miscalculation.
She would not repeat that mistake.
“No. I’m not going to His Majesty.”
“You’re not… going to His Majesty?”
“The Crown Prince promised to send aid. Because of that, the Emperor will not send his own.”
“Then…”
A crooked smile tugged at Ludice’s lips.
Yes. The Crown Prince’s forces would come. They just wouldn’t arrive in time.
He claimed bad weather delayed their march.
A lie.
He had deliberately dragged his feet. Quinlan died, and then he arrived—just in time to claim innocence.
—I’m sorry, my lady. I should have come sooner.
And at Quinlan’s funeral, he had shed his crocodile tears.
Quinlan was right: there was no time. A surprise attack was imminent. To repel it, to end the war in one stroke, they needed knights. They needed reinforcements that could sweep the enemy away.
“You can’t sway the Emperor with mere unease. He won’t act without justification.”
“But this war was His Majesty’s command.”
“Yes. And that’s why, with the Crown Prince already moving, he won’t interfere. He’ll just watch from afar, to see how his son handles it.”
“But this is a war for the Empire! Without the Duke, we wouldn’t have held this long.”
Phil’s voice trembled with frustration.
“If His Majesty would just give you even one imperial knight order, you could win! Even without the Crown Prince’s reinforcements. No one else can move but them—”
“Who said we’re not going to the Imperial Palace?”
“What?”
“You just said you wouldn’t see His Majesty.”
“I won’t.”
“……?”
“That’s not our destination.”
Phil tilted his head in confusion. Ludice’s smile deepened.
“Follow me. There’s only one place we need to go.”
With natural authority, she gave the order, turned, and strode out of the mansion.
