Chapter 34
“…You wouldn’t understand. Just how much pain I feel every time you waver because of that man.”
Yeah, I don’t understand. Why would someone as confident and fearless as you claim to be in pain because of me?
“How wonderful it would be if you could forget him completely. If only I could drive out even the faintest trace of warmth he left behind in you.”
What does my forgetting him have anything to do with you?
Maia rubbed her tired eyelids, letting out a deep sigh from the depths of her soul.
Ah… in the end, I really am this selfish.
To think I could question why my friend, who is helping me commit something as disgraceful as adultery, would care.
Because she’s my friend. When a friend is in pain, I suffer too. If I had to watch her struggle, trapped in painful memories, it’s only natural to wish she could forget it all.
“You won’t be able to return for at least a month after you leave,” the maid mentioned, speaking of the Duke of Western.
“…Yes, I suppose so,” Maia replied, brushing off her suspicions with effort.
The maid remained still, lips tightly sealed as if she had more to say.
“…Is there something else?”
Maia’s voice sharpened with irritation that surged up suddenly.
“No, ma’am. I’ll take my leave now,” the maid replied, bowing hastily.
Watching her scurry away, Maia turned toward the window.
It was so quiet, she wished a messenger would show up and knock on the pane.
But the blue sky remained relentlessly silent.
“What’s wrong with him now…?”
Hael muttered with an exasperated look as he glanced toward the corner of the first-floor hall in the Magic Tower.
A figure sat there, cloaked in darkness, occupying the corner.
Or rather, to be exact—not just a figure, but that man.
“Lord Luard.”
The one and only Hiperion Luard, known for his erratic nature and disdain for silence or solitude. He was someone who mocked words like ‘meditation’ and ‘seclusion’ as things fit for dogs.
For someone who had lived that long, you’d think he’d mature by now—but no. When there was nothing to do, he roamed the tower, destroying the mental health of everyone in it just for fun.
And yet—
“…What’s wrong with him?” Rehail, wrapped in a robe to preserve the mystique of the Tower Lord, approached and whispered.
“No idea. Maybe he got dumped,” Hael replied irritably, pulling off his glasses.
The darkness thickened as if to affirm his guess.
Hael looked at Hiperion with an expression reserved for the world’s greatest fool.
“…Dumped?” Rehail echoed, horrified.
Ah, right—this guy still doesn’t know what Lord Luard’s been obsessed with lately.
Hael sighed and whispered.
“To tell the truth, Lord Luard has… someone he fancies these days.”
“What?!”
Rehail’s shock intensified.
Well, of course he’d react like that.
“He stole your position, dumped his duties, did all kinds of shady things—for that romantic pursuit…”
“If you want to keep your tongue, keep talking.”
Hael went silent.
The silver figure had risen without anyone noticing, now turning back with a terrifying stillness.
“…Lord Luard,” Rehail called cautiously. There was no reply.
“Forgive my impertinence, but… is your low mood related to the person you’re fond of?”
Despite the silence, Rehail stood his ground and asked.
Hael stared in awe. In this ice-cold tension, Rehail had the guts to speak so directly. It was impressive.
“…Fond of, you say.”
From that expressionless face, crimson lips moved.
“…Yes.”
Hiperion turned his gaze to his subordinates, his voice steeped in bitter self-mockery.
“All this… over something as petty as affection.”
He lowered his golden eyes, lost in thought.
Hael looked on with a complicated expression.
“Please tell us what happened. That way, we can at least offer comfort or help come up with a solution.”
Hael spoke with sincere determination.
“Tell us. Who is it? What’s their status? What happened that’s made you so gloomy?”
The golden eyes, conflicted, scanned over Hael, who clenched his fist with determination, and Rehail, who still looked utterly clueless.
Then, erasing all traces of sorrow from his beautiful face, Hiperion spoke flatly.
“…Like you could actually help.”
“…Excuse me?!”
Hael shouted in disbelief.
This guy, seriously!
“I was trying to be nice!”
“…Hael, stop,” Rehail said, holding him back.
But still—!
“…Well, you’ll see her face at the Rite anyway.”
That unexpected comment froze both Hael and Rehail.
Hiperion calmly brushed back his disheveled hair.
You’ll see her face at the Rite?
That means…
“She’s a noble?”
And not just any noble. She must be someone important enough to be allowed into the Tower.
Hael stared at him seriously, waiting for confirmation.
What the hell? This is the same man who always mocked and sneered at nobles!
“…Yes. You two have been holed up in the Tower too long to know, but remember the name.”
And finally, Hiperion revealed it.
“Maia Hansberk Western. Currently holds the title of Duchess of Western.”
Then came a silence as heavy as death.
Maia Hansberk Western. Western. The Duchess of Western…
“…The woman you’re in love with is a married woman?!”
Hael shrieked, filled with horror and disgust.
“Hael…!”
Rehail grabbed his colleague’s shoulder in panic.
But…
“This is outrageous…! Even if it’s you, Lord Luard, adultery is never acceptable! If my family or sister ever did that, I’d chop their—”
Hael was clearly unhinged now.
“…You done talking?”
For a moment, it was as if flowers bloomed right before his eyes.
Blinking blankly, Hael looked up—only to find an unbearably beautiful man staring down at him from dangerously close.
“Ee—eeeaaAAARGHH!”
The moment of ecstasy turned into pure hell.
Rehail turned his head, unable to watch the gruesome scene.
Just what kind of person had ensnared their lord in such maddening affection?
They were desperate to know.
“Is someone talking about me…?”
Maia glanced around, struck by a strange feeling.
A false alarm?
Shhhh—
She turned her head again, and pale pink petals began falling like rain before her eyes.
It felt like just yesterday that it was the middle of winter—yet spring had come.
In the cascading shower of flower petals, a man in a blue cloak stood out clearly in her vision.
“Your Grace,” his aide called, noticing Maia’s presence.
The Duke of Western turned his head slightly.
“…Maia.”
He turned fully, eyes wide.
“I came to see you off.”
He hesitated before speaking.
“…It’s our first Rite of Prayer since our marriage. I’m sorry I can’t attend it with you.”
Her heart ached a little. This situation wasn’t his fault—it was something Rihi had orchestrated.
“It’s alright,” Maia replied softly.
Her lavender eyes, drifting in search of a place to rest, landed on his reddened earlobes.
…What’s with that? It’s been warm for a while, so it can’t be the cold.
“We shouldn’t keep you long. You should go,” Maia said, preparing to part with a formal farewell.
“…Understood. You should head inside, too.”
“…Yes.”
For the next month, she wouldn’t have to suffer because of this man.
She felt a sudden urge to thank Rihi.
Even though they had parted awkwardly last time, when she saw him again at the Tower, she’d approach him first.
He was always the one to come to her.
This time, she would go to him.
…Enough with the needless doubts.
“Maia.”
Her thoughts began to drift, but the Duke’s voice called her back.
When she looked up, she saw him blushing furiously.
“When I return from the circuit… could you greet me wearing the Lekasa brooch I gave you before?”
Her lips parted slightly.
Why bring that up, all of a sudden…?
“…Alright.”
She answered, flustered. Refusing such a small request felt absurd.
“I’m glad. That you’ll grant me this wish.”
The Duke gave a faint smile. Maia bit her lip, struck by an odd flutter.
“Until we meet again, may peace be with you. I’ll write.”
“…Yes.”
He lingered, clearly reluctant to leave. Only when his aide gently urged him did he finally board the carriage.
Maia watched the procession as it moved away.
Until the shapes of the carriage and the black horses faded beneath the cascading petals of spring.
