Chapter 9
Cotton felt uncomfortable around Edler Negraford. There was no clear reason. From the very first time they met, she had instinctively wanted to avoid him. Yet even to her own surprise, the state Edler was in when she saw him again after so long was unmistakably strange.
Unlike Rictan, who had dark blue-black hair and eyes like a deep night sea, Edler possessed clear sky-blue hair and gentle, deer-like eyes. But today, though his hair was still that pale blue, his gaze was dull—like that of a dead fish—and his once well-kept hair was unkempt and messy.
Though not as solidly built as Rictan, he had once had a well-balanced physique. Now he looked so gaunt that it seemed as if he had only recently recovered from an illness. On top of that, even from a distance, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to him made it easy to imagine how he had been living.
“If you’re coming in, then come in. If you’re leaving, then leave. What are you doing standing there like a pillar?”
Cotton, who had been staring at the place where Edler disappeared, startled and quickly turned her head at the voice from inside.
“Rictan…?”
“Why.”
He answered her quiet call. He didn’t ignore her. He didn’t avoid her. He didn’t drive her away. The tension she had been holding onto all the way here eased, like a receding tide.
“Then… excuse me.”
Forgetting her earlier unease, Cotton stepped into the office. Aberden greeted her politely, and she returned the gesture with a small nod.
Rictan spoke while repeatedly dipping his pen into the ink.
“What is it?”
If she told him honestly that she had come because she missed him when he didn’t show up, how would he react? Would he frown in displeasure, or irritably send her away? She couldn’t guess. Either way, it would hurt.
“…I couldn’t find anything that might help me recover my memories.”
She half-lied, unwilling to face the truth herself.
“You’ve got eyes, don’t you? Those lunatics caused such a mess I haven’t even slept properly, and now I’m stuck dealing with this nonsense.”
Rictan spat out harsh words. Cotton blinked as she sat down on the sofa. She had thought her husband was freer and rougher than other nobles, but this was the first time she had seen him curse.
As he said, the desk was piled high with documents, and both Aberden and Rictan looked utterly exhausted.
“Aren’t you going to collapse at this rate? Why don’t you get some rest?”
“If it were something I could rest from, I would’ve quit already.”
Rictan growled, looking as if he wanted to burn everything in front of him right then and there. Cotton opened her mouth, then pressed her lips shut without speaking. It was only a brief change, but Rictan seemed to notice, raising an eyebrow.
“What? If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise go back to your room.”
“No… it’s just… I thought maybe we could take a short walk outside—to clear your head and get some rest.”
“Are you seriously unable to see what’s in front of you?”
As if suggesting her eyesight had gone bad along with her lost memories, his tone made Cotton lower her gaze. At that moment, Aberden hurriedly cut in.
“Your Majesty, aren’t your eyes dry and strained? At this rate, you might not even be able to read the rest of the documents properly. I think you should take a short break. Please, go!”
He rattled it off so quickly that Rictan had no chance to interrupt. Rictan looked at him as if wondering what nonsense he was spouting, then let out a sigh and stood up. After several sleepless nights, even he was beginning to feel his limits. Even if he couldn’t sleep, moving around a bit might ease the suffocating tension in his body.
“Fine. I’ll walk for thirty minutes. You keep working.”
Aberden’s face brightened, only to dim again at the following remark. As Rictan put on his coat and headed out, Cotton reflexively stood and followed him. Their eyes met briefly, and Aberden smiled at her.
Cotton hurried after Rictan’s broad back. His long legs made it hard to match his stride. As if he truly intended only to walk, he continued along the vast garden path without stopping. She wanted to chat with him, but simply keeping up was already difficult.
Her body, unused to movement after staying indoors all day, finally gave in. She caught her foot on a stone and stumbled forward. As the ground rushed closer, something suddenly caught her arm and waist. She hadn’t even had time to scream. Looking up, she saw Rictan holding her firmly, clicking his tongue.
“If the pace was too fast, you should’ve said so. Don’t just make things difficult.”
“I will. Thank you for catching me.”
To others, his tone might have sounded like scolding, but Cotton smiled brightly. Even a reprimand felt like affection from her husband. Rictan gave her a moment to steady herself before starting again—this time at a slower pace, one that allowed her to take in their surroundings.
With some breathing room, Cotton began to admire the garden she rarely visited.
“There are definitely more kinds of flowers here than in the back garden. The fragrance is so nice—I think I’ll remember it even before I fall asleep.”
“That good? Feels like my nose is rotting off.”
Rictan wrinkled his nose. The look of distaste on his face made Cotton smile faintly. She was about to suggest moving away from the flower-filled path when Rictan suddenly stopped walking. She halted beside him.
“What is it?”
“Then what about that?”
Following his gaze, she saw a white flower—one she liked. Delighted, Cotton crouched down in front of it. Hidden among more flamboyant blooms, it was easy to miss. She wondered how he had spotted it.
“Have you seen the back garden before? There are a lot of these planted there. The scent is subtle and lovely. Maybe because they’re small and delicate, they catch my eye more.”
“That’s because it’s a wildflower.”
“You know this flower?”
“They’re everywhere if you walk outside.”
Seeing a man who seemed utterly uninterested in plants speak knowledgeably about flowers felt strangely new. Surprised, Cotton asked,
“Do you know its name too?”
“A wildflower’s just a wildflower. Why would it have a name?”
“Even weeds have names. If you know it, tell me.”
Her tone carried a rare hint of petulance. It was their first time walking together in the imperial palace, and the small exchange with her husband made her feel lighthearted.
“…Iberis.”
Iberis. The sound suited the flower perfectly, and she memorized it instantly, repeating it softly to herself.
Then his voice came from above her.
“Does anything come back to you?”
“My memory?”
It was sudden. Why bring that up now? She looked up at him, but the sunlight cast shadows over his face, making it hard to read his expression. Since it was an important matter for both of them, Cotton slowly stood and answered carefully.
“Nothing comes to mind right now… Why all of a sudden?”
“…It’d be ridiculous if your memories came back just because of some sentimental moment.”
Though his face was as expressionless as ever, there was something sharp in his tone. He turned and headed back toward the palace entrance. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes yet. Reluctant, Cotton called after him.
“Rictan, let’s walk a little longer. The weather is perfect—not too hot or cold.”
But he showed no sign of stopping. Normally, she would have given up, telling herself he was busy. But today, she didn’t want to part like this. The warm sunlight, the fragrant breeze, and the rare gentleness he had shown—all of it made her reach out and grasp the hem of his clothes.
Rictan turned and brushed her hand away. One corner of his lips twisted upward, reflecting his mood.
“A walk? You’re talking about a walk right now?”
Startled by his raised voice, Cotton instinctively stepped back. Her wide eyes trembled. Rictan stepped forward, closing the distance she had created, his voice pressing down on her.
“Weren’t you the one who agreed to focus on recovering your memory? It should matter more to you than to me. And now you want to take a walk? When you should be locking yourself away and wringing your brain dry trying to remember?”
“…Rictan.”
“If you can’t remember, then there’s no reason for you to stay here. If you’re not Renedia, then you have no reason to exist.”
Each word landed heavily, deliberately, as if being driven straight into her.
“You’ll have to recall it—whether you tear your mind apart searching for it, or rely on some accident to trigger it.”
Leaving the frozen Cotton behind, Rictan stepped off the path and walked away.
Her trembling hands clenched together as she bit her lip. When she finally forced her gaze up, he was already gone. The stares of passing servants and visiting guests in the palace felt painfully sharp.
Cotton walked back to her room in a daze, barely aware of how she got there, and sat down on the bed. The room felt unbearably silent.
[If you can’t remember, then there’s no reason for you to stay here.]
His angry voice echoed in her ears. Her vision blurred. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, soaking into her clothes in small circles. A sob escaped, and she pulled the blanket up, covering her mouth and hands to stifle the sound.
[If you’re not Renedia, then you have no reason to exist.]
…Did Rictan ever love me?
The worst question—the one she had desperately avoided—took hold of her mind. His voice echoed over and over, mercilessly tearing at her heart.
