Chapter 19
“Anastasia, you’re planning to leave my side, aren’t you? You’re not even trying to live, yet you intend to shake me like this? What if I lose my mind because I can’t accept your death? Are you really determined to turn my father’s fears into reality?”
There wasn’t a single thing wrong with what Adele said.
The Duke must have had his reasons for forcing Adele to live behind fabricated emotions, and Adele had accepted that life.
But I—
“I don’t want to force you to do something you hate.”
“You must force me.”
“You can feel emotions too. I don’t believe everything you showed me was a lie.”
“You were deceived.”
I didn’t want to look hurt, but I also had no desire to protect my pride in front of him.
I barely managed to lift my head, which had sunk low without me realizing it. Through my blurred vision, I saw Adele’s expressionless face.
For a moment, I wondered if this was his true self.
But then—just for an instant—his gaze wavered.
I gathered my courage one last time and held onto him again.
“Really? Was I not even a little special to you? When you told me I was pretty, when we walked together holding hands, when we said goodbye after parting—did you feel nothing at all? When we went out together for the first time and you said you were happy… was that a lie too?”
After a pause, he replied in a flat tone.
“Yes. All of it was a lie. You are no different from anyone else, Anastasia. The reason I cared for you more was because you are someone my father values. If I gained your favor, my father would trust me more as well. I needed at least one close friend so my father wouldn’t worry. You seemed suitable. And even if you learned my secret, the chances of you revealing it were low. You opened your heart far too easily.”
Earlier, he had worried about what would happen if he couldn’t accept my death.
Now, he was telling me I was not special at all.
For some reason, his words felt like they were aimed not only at me, but at himself as well.
No matter how contradictory it was, one thing was clear—he was pushing me away.
So you knew.
You knew that I had feelings for you.
“Anastasia, I apologize for taking advantage of your goodwill.”
At last, the word use came out of Adele’s mouth.
“If everything about you until now was just an act, how am I supposed to believe that apology is sincere?”
“…You’re right.”
Adele didn’t deny it.
As silence fell between us, I thought: the wall that had risen between us—no, the wall I alone hadn’t noticed—might never disappear. It could remain firmly between us forever.
So perhaps this was the first and last chance I would ever get.
The only moment when I could confess my feelings and hear an honest answer from him.
If we met again, Adele would probably treat me kindly and gently, just like before.
Once he made up his mind, he was stubborn. He would never show emotions like this again.
Ah. I see.
I had no choice but to speak now.
“I liked you.”
Strangely enough, even now, I didn’t resent you at all.
I don’t think I’ll ever truly hate you. That’s just how I feel.
The words came out calmer than I expected. They weren’t spoken in anger, nor as a plea, nor as a lament. They were as ordinary as asking about tomorrow’s weather.
My gaze dropped. Afraid my hard-earned courage would disappear, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Adele. I kept my eyes on the floor and continued in a quiet voice.
“Even though I won’t live long and was just waiting for the day I’d die, I still wanted you to see me as special. It wasn’t anything grand like love. I just liked the time I spent waiting for you. I liked smiling face-to-face with you. I enjoyed simply walking beside you. Watching you read was fun, and seeing you flustered when I did something odd made me happy. When I fell asleep, you quietly draped your coat over me. When you listened attentively no matter how pointless my rambling was—I loved all of that so much…”
Without realizing how much trouble I was causing you, I got excited on my own, hoped on my own.
“Thank you. Even if, as you said, all of it was a lie, the feelings I felt were real.”
I rubbed my eyes and looked at Adele.
“This is as far as I can come toward you, but I hope I wasn’t just like everyone else. You know, I can’t bring myself to force you. I don’t want to become another person who makes your life harder. I wanted to become close to you—not to like you just to receive your kindness. So…”
Adele’s face was twisted. I did my best to speak normally.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t become the kind of close friend you wanted. Thank you so much for spending time with me until now. Goodbye.”
I passed by Adele and left the mansion, boarding a carriage right away. Only then did the tears I had barely been holding back spill out.
If only the time I was given had been a little longer, I wouldn’t have given up so easily.
Maybe this wasn’t a farewell, not an ending, not a conclusion—just part of the process.
* * *
In the empty corridor after Anastasia left, Adele Magnus slowly turned his head.
He had known she was eavesdropping on his conversation with his father. Hoping she would hear more—and grow more afraid—he had deliberately provoked him.
Friedrich Magnus was far too intelligent a man. Even when facing his own son, he never lost his composure.
The moment he realized something was wrong with Adele, he isolated him from the outside world and forced him to learn the goodwill, ethics, and moral sense people naturally developed.
He didn’t ask for Adele’s understanding. He didn’t even try to persuade him.
He simply commanded.
If you want to go outside, treat my words as law.
If you don’t, I will not hesitate to kill you right now.
That was how Friedrich had warned his young son.
After years of effort, Adele came to appear—by anyone’s standards—to be a person with perfectly normal emotions.
No one doubted his capacity for empathy.
He never made a single mistake.
Until a month ago.
By nature, Adele kept a strict distance from everyone.
Anastasia Sinclair was no exception. Even a month ago, she was not special to him.
But now, she stood at the center of all his thoughts.
That was why he had given her a chance to escape. Why he had hurt her while enduring the nauseating feeling of his insides twisting.
And yet—
“I liked you.”
Had anyone ever confessed to him with such naive sincerity, even once?
Countless people felt affection toward him, no matter how carefully he drew lines and built walls.
Because he was the Duke’s son. Because he was wealthy. Intelligent. Kind. Because he didn’t discriminate by status.
There were countless reasons.
But she was the only one who said she enjoyed simply being with him.
Even ignorant people instinctively recoiled from Adele at times, as though sensing that he could kill them at any moment. They avoided being alone with him, feeling uneasy and burdened.
Adele himself avoided staying alone in enclosed spaces with others whenever possible.
Yet with Anastasia, he almost resented how much she enjoyed going out.
She smiled often. She complained over trivial things, pretended to be angry, then quickly burst into laughter again. She never cried—even when talking about her own death.
“Thank you. Even if it was all a lie, the feelings I felt were real.”
He had expected her to resent him.
He had learned that people who were betrayed either became angry or fell into despair.
But she apologized instead.
She said she was sorry.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t become the kind of close friend you wanted. Thank you for spending time with me. Goodbye.”
It was a farewell.
She said she didn’t want false pretenses. That she couldn’t force such a thing upon him.
How cruel it was.
She wouldn’t even realize she had driven him into a corner.
Now, he had no choice but to decide.
Follow his father’s orders and distance himself from Anastasia.
Or show Anastasia the sincerity she desired.
Rationally speaking, the reasonable choice was obvious—obey his father.
Nothing would change. It was safe. He could continue living as Adele Magnus, beloved by everyone.
But he would never cross paths with Anastasia again. It was obvious she would avoid him from now on.
The second option was reckless.
Anastasia didn’t fully know him yet.
If she learned his true nature and became frightened—if rumors spread that the young lord Adele Magnus might turn into a murderer at any moment—his life would be over. He would never return to how things were.
Should he deceive her?
More thoroughly, more cleverly—like a man truly in love?
He was confident. He possessed the ability to play a man in love so perfectly that Anastasia would never notice.
If he became kinder, gentler, more desperate, more earnest, she would accept it.
By layering lies upon lies, he could stay by her side without frightening her.
Suddenly, Adele let out a bitter laugh.
He realized it.
He wished to stay by her side badly enough to continue such a miserable farce.
He had never wanted anything so desperately before.
And yet, he also knew exactly what would happen if this feeling grew.
In the end, he would try to save Anastasia.
And that would inevitably involve murder.
Outwardly, he tried to give her hope—but Adele himself believed she couldn’t be saved by ordinary medicine.
Even the Magnus Ducal House, whose wealth reached the ends of the continent, had yet to find even a clue to curing her illness.
Her disease was incurable by conventional means.
The only thing left was to use a living sacrifice.
Perhaps he had already made his choice.
The moment she gave her consent, he would carry it out without a shred of guilt.
Adele, it seems you’ll need to become a somewhat bad person.
Yes, Anastasia.
You, who are so unbearably lovely.
I only hope that you will be someone capable of bearing me.
