CHAPTER 104
Rahan clenched his teeth.
Erishi Ahen.
He knew her—yet the person before him was a stranger.
The Erishi Ahen that Rahan Norwich remembered had never looked like this.
He remembered the first time he saw her.
When he looked into those eyes—eyes as fresh and bright as new buds in April—he had thought of spring.
Her green eyes glimmered beneath a lifted veil; her cheeks flushed red with shyness.
Her radiant smile was refreshing, and the way her eyes drew him in brimmed with life. The vibrant energy of spring itself seemed to dwell in her.
Her wavy hair sparkled under sunlight, and her soft cheeks were as lovely as ripe apples.
She was cheerful, endlessly talkative, and bold enough to love him without hesitation. Erishi Ahen had seemed like someone crafted out of all the good things in the world.
But the woman before him now—what kind of figure was she?
Her feverish cheeks, her dazed eyes—her face already wet with tears.
His chest tightened. The whole world seemed to blur.
To see Erishi Ahen look so unhappy—
Watching her cry silently, clutching her chest, Rahan felt as though his own heart were being torn apart.
He had thought she would live happily. All he had ever wanted was to stay out of her way.
He felt guilty, even ashamed, that because of him, Erishi would be condemned by the world. He never wanted to see her face such scorn.
Even when the priest Marid accused him of raping Erishi and consorting with a demon, Rahan could only curse himself for having done something that gave anyone a reason to say such things.
So, without hesitation, he had thrown himself from the cliff.
And when he realized he had survived, he cursed himself again.
Why couldn’t you just die?
It would be a lie to say he hadn’t tried again. He had hurt himself many times. But Nicholas’s words had stopped him.
“Don’t know why a young man like you’s doing this, but you do realize the Light of Eridrahan doesn’t reach those who take their own life, right?”
Those who chose death for themselves could not enter the paradise of Eridrahan—that was the creed of the faith.
It wasn’t that he suddenly believed in that faith. But if paradise did exist, then Erishi, as he knew her, was someone who surely deserved to go there.
And so, pitifully, he found he didn’t even want to die anymore.
Because if such a place existed after death—
He wanted to see her there.
So even though he cursed his survival, he also felt relieved to still be alive.
And now, two years later—again, the same thought came to him.
Because he lived, he was forced to see what she had become.
Because he lived, he had to witness the broken, ruined figure she was now.
And yet—
Because he lived—
“You came out… because you wanted to see me.”
He could see her smile.
Erishi looked unwell. Even without her feverish flush, anyone could tell from her ragged breathing and vacant eyes that something was wrong.
Her face was turned from the moonlight—he couldn’t even see it properly.
“It must be a dream…”
Rahan bit his lower lip. Did she recognize him? Perhaps not—she seemed disoriented, half-conscious. She probably thought this was a dream.
Truthfully, he hadn’t meant to come this close. He’d only wanted a glimpse of her face. Even if it were just seeing her asleep from afar, that would have been enough.
But how could he turn away when she clutched her chest, crying his name?
His steps had already carried him to her. And even if he were to die here, he wouldn’t regret it.
Only—he could not grant her the one thing she asked for: to hold her.
He was still a wanted man, unworthy to stand by her side. He needed to leave soon. Dawn was approaching.
When the sun rose, he could no longer stay here. He could not feign blindness with his eyes closed, nor could he pretend to be a gardener with them open.
So, Erishi—if you’ll only take this tattered scrap of me, that will be enough.
“Hold me.”
But Rahan’s resolve crumbled again—shattered like sand—at her trembling plea.
“I don’t care who you are. Just… don’t say a word.”
A curse almost slipped out. He wanted to curse himself—for letting her become so desperate, so lonely, that she would say such a thing.
And then—
“I’ll just pretend you’re him.”
Rahan’s body collapsed, pulling Erishi into his arms. She flinched, then embraced him back, pressing her face to his shoulder and sobbing.
“Rahan. Rahan. I missed you.”
Even gasping for breath, she called his name—and she was unbearably, heartbreakingly beautiful.
Rahan wanted to die. Their marriage had lasted barely two months—a blink of an eye compared to the twenty years they had lived apart.
He had believed that he alone still longed for her.
But seeing her now, still loving him, still missing him—it made him both happy and sad.
“Rahan…”
The abandoned second son of House Norwich had never even been given a name. It was Duke Lachaise who had named him “Rahan.”
Since he had been cast out as a child of the devil, the duke had deliberately split the name of God to give to him.
As a boy, Rahan had wondered if the duke had been mocking him. He had never liked the name.
But now—he was grateful that it was his name on her lips.
And he was glad that if she ever said it aloud before others, they would think she was simply calling upon God.
“Why… why did you leave me?”
Erishi gasped through her tears. Bitterness threaded through every breath.
“Why did you abandon me—without hesitation, just… leave?”
“You didn’t even look back at me once…”
Only then did Rahan realize how deeply he had hurt her. He had never once turned back toward her as he ran.
Because if he had—he would have hesitated.
But for Erishi Ahen, that had been the cruelest wound of all—that Rahan Norwich had leapt from the cliff without ever once looking back.
Rahan finally let out a low sob.
“I… I only ever got in your way…”
“Don’t. Don’t say that.”
She was still crying, her breath hot and shallow, her voice trembling. But she refused to stop accusing him.
“Don’t lie. You’re awful. Did you even ask me? Hic…”
“Did you ever ask if you were in my way?”
Each word came with a painful breath.
“You never even asked me.”
Her gasping sobs were unbearably tender and cruel at once.
“You know what? I… I tried to die too. Because Rahan, you… you killed yourself…”
Ah.
Rahan squeezed his eyes shut.
“Don’t know the saying? The Light of Eridrahan doesn’t reach those who take their own life.”
Erishi confessed that she had hurt herself over and over—
Because he had taken his own life, she thought that if she did the same, she might reach him.
That was the only thought that had driven her.
“Then why aren’t you dead, really?”
Liette’s words echoed in his mind.
He hadn’t answered then—because the truth was too small, too shameful.
He hadn’t died because… he was afraid.
Afraid that even in death, he might still not reach her.
But now, Rahan realized there had been another reason—pathetic and childish though it was.
He had wanted to see her again.
And once more—
Their lips met.
Wet cheeks brushed; noses grazed.
Their lips parted and their tongues intertwined, hot and trembling.
Perhaps it was her feverish warmth—
But his head was burning.
