Chapter 11
Death.
Liret slowly rolled the word over in her mind. It was difficult to immediately apply the meaning she knew to herself.
Death.
So… it meant dying.
Death had never been something far away from her.
When her family had been slaughtered before her eyes, cold blood splattering everywhere, it had already taken its place beside her like an old companion. And after suffering humiliation after humiliation under Dailan, it had only grown more familiar.
But to Liret, death was a nasty, spiteful friend.
Whenever she didn’t want it, it would suddenly appear before her. Yet whenever she longed for it, it vanished without a sound.
This time was no different.
Death had shown itself again—at the most unexpected moment.
Five years…
Even repeating it to herself felt unreal.
But her heart seemed to disagree.
She could feel something cold settling heavily inside her chest.
It wasn’t an emotion she could clearly define.
Of course it wasn’t.
Just because someone’s name had appeared on her body, she had suddenly become someone living on borrowed time.
Terminally ill.
The words carried a strange weight.
It felt as though death—a dark fog-like thing—stood somewhere in the distance, quietly watching her.
It was an odd feeling, one that dragged all five senses downward. She couldn’t describe it properly, but she knew this much:
It was dark.
Very dark.
“Hah…”
A hollow laugh warmed the depths of her lungs.
The situation was so absurd that her mind almost blanked.
She had thought long ago that the freedom death offered—the freedom of release—had already been stolen from her.
But she had never imagined that even the timing of it would be taken away like this.
Maybe she had committed some terrible sin without realizing it.
Otherwise, how could everything be so hopeless?
Liret lowered her gaze to her hands.
Thanks to last night’s quarrel with Valderion, her fingers now moved freely without issue.
She remembered vividly when they had stiffened into rigid lumps.
Is this how death comes?
After being abandoned by that man, her hands and feet would slowly stiffen.
Then lose their function.
Then rot away.
Perhaps those five years she had been given would simply be the process of filling time with agony.
If someone simply took her life in one swift motion, that would be one thing.
But imagining pain creeping in slowly, day after day—
Her throat already felt tight.
Of course, this outcome only applied if the Naming remained one-sided.
If her name appeared on Valderion within a year, then things would change in ways no one could predict.
And yet—
Maybe because that wasn’t the case right now—
No matter how much she searched for possibilities, she couldn’t find hope.
A sigh rose heavily from deep within her.
Liret leaned forward until her head rested against the wooden table.
In her tilted world, the smooth glass window entered her view.
“……”
Her gaze caught on a group of maids walking along the path connecting the wide gardens to the forest.
Perhaps they were heading to the laundry area.
Clustered together beneath the sunlight, they laughed openly, their faces bright and carefree.
Though separated by distance and glass, Liret could almost hear their cheerful laughter.
Once upon a time, being cared for by people like them had been ordinary.
Back then, she never would have imagined envying them.
They had been born with little.
And because of that, they were free.
Nothing bound them.
Surely they didn’t carry burdens heavy enough to define their entire lives.
In other words—
They were ordinary.
Receiving wages.
Spending their days busily working.
Falling asleep exhausted.
Waking at the proper hour.
A repetitive, predictable life.
Liret envied that freedom.
Of course, they must have hardships too.
Everyone did.
But surely none of it compared to living while staring death in the face.
Even now, wasn’t that obvious?
Her shackles had technically been removed, but countless problems still made movement difficult.
Meanwhile, those maids could wander this estate freely if they wished.
After merely visiting the library once, her calves still throbbed painfully.
As she rubbed them absently, she found herself unable to look away from them for a very long time.
* * *
The noble families of the capital usually maintained townhouses on plots of land stretching eastward from the central plaza.
Life in the capital revolved around those residences, while their true estates stood upon lands granted by the Imperial Family.
Which was exactly why the Duchy of Eustutia was unusual.
Situated far from its townhouse, with one entire side bordered by the vast Alter Forest, the estate stood apart from the rest.
Ordinarily, such a thing would never have been permitted.
But the Eustutia family enjoyed privileges showered upon them by the imperial household.
Even this peculiarity became something exclusively theirs.
The massive grounds embraced the forest.
And the annex within them resembled more of a vacation manor than a residence.
Technically, it stood on the same property as the main house.
But the distance between them was considerable, and the annex was rarely used.
It felt separate.
The grounds were so enormous that traveling by carriage between buildings would have been reasonable.
Still, when heading there, Valderion chose to walk.
Partly to clear his head.
His black shoes struck the ground in steady rhythm.
Beneath them remained traces of unmelted winter frost.
This winter, somehow, felt longer than usual.
The moment he entered the annex, the duke stopped.
He was indoors now.
Yet the cold pressing against his skin felt no different from outside.
Perhaps because only one person lived here.
He considered it briefly, then dismissed the thought and continued forward.
He climbed the stairs leading upward.
A long corridor stretched in both directions.
And there—
He encountered a woman limping toward him.
“…Ah.”
Liret stopped as well.
Apparently returning from the library, she had kept her promise and brought the butler along.
He had only ever seen her shut away in her room.
Watching her move around on her own two feet felt strangely unfamiliar.
But that thought vanished the moment she instinctively stepped backward.
Unsteadily.
His brows furrowed.
More than that—
She was carrying a stack of books herself.
Despite the fact that a perfectly healthy adult man stood beside her.
Even the butler seemed oddly unconcerned.
The man had served him since childhood.
He separated personal feelings from duty flawlessly.
Even if he disliked Liret, he would have carried the books without complaint.
If only because protecting the health of the woman carrying his master’s name provided enough justification.
I see.
Valderion understood immediately.
This was her stubbornness.
Even if the butler had offered, she must have insisted she could do it herself.
Just like when she argued back without avoiding his gaze.
“You’re back already.”
Perhaps uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny, Liret tightened her hold on the books and spoke weakly.
There was unmistakable disappointment in her tone.
She didn’t even try hiding it.
Valderion’s lips twisted.
“Already? Hardly. I’m later than usual.”
Which was true.
Problems with trade operations at the empire’s eastern ports had delayed him all morning.
Despite an exhausting schedule, he had still rearranged work to check on her.
Not because he expected gratitude.
Still—
Watching her openly display disappointment and hostility irritated him.
“You look tired. Hurry along.”
He tilted his head forward, signaling for her to go first.
Clearly unwilling to walk beside him, Liret immediately moved ahead.
But because of her injured leg, every step came with a pronounced limp.
Trying to walk faster only made it more obvious.
What a sight.
From behind, she looked unstable enough to resemble a child learning to walk.
Her arms carried books without issue.
Her legs remained a disaster.
Every night, all he did was hold her hands and ease the stiffness.
He never touched the Name itself.
Naturally, progress remained limited.
There was only one solution if he wanted her returned to normal faster.
Valderion, who had stood rooted in place, suddenly strode toward her.
“—! W-What are you doing?!”
Before she could react—
He lifted Liret straight into the air and slung her over his shoulder like baggage.
Her feet left the ground instantly.
She screamed.
He didn’t even flinch.
Instead—
Valderion found himself surprised.
She’s this light?
He knew she was thin.
But she weighed even less than expected.
Light enough that she felt comparable to his hunting dog, Khamon.
That realization alone was alarming.
“Put me down!”
Whether he was surprised or not, Liret struggled violently.
The books slipped from her grasp.
They crashed loudly onto the floor.
The butler calmly stepped forward and gathered them one by one without changing expression.
Meanwhile, Valderion continued walking toward her room at the end of the corridor.
By the time he lowered her onto the sofa inside her bedroom, her face had turned bright red from blood rushing to her head.
The butler entered behind them, neatly placed the recovered books on the table, then quietly left.
The door shut softly.
Naturally—
Only the two people who snarled whenever their eyes met remained inside the room.
