Chapter 86
“His Grace wants to see me?”
Kendrick’s voice was outwardly calm, but laced with hostility. Tristan gave a faint laugh.
“There are things I must say to you.”
“Ah, of course. Something you must say… to me.”
Kendrick let out a mocking smile. The only thing stopping him from openly showing his irritation was Maya’s presence.
‘He must want to talk about the wedding.’
It seemed like a fitting invitation to extend at the end of their journey.
“Then… let’s go.”
Kendrick looked somewhat tense, as if worried about what Tristan might bring up.
‘It’s nothing much.’
Watching the two of them walking side by side, Maya felt quietly pleased.
They seemed closer than she had thought.
‘Perhaps thanks to Lisefield?’
After all, an enemy’s enemy is easy enough to call a friend. Maybe Lisefield had his uses too.
‘Even garbage can have its uses.’
Though in the end, it still needed to be discarded.
Of course, Maya’s assumption was wrong.
As soon as she was out of sight, Kendrick tilted his head with a scowl.
“Do you really have anything to say to me? We can hardly stand the sight of one another.”
“Maya said she would like you invited to our wedding.”
This trip had been Tristan’s first time truly experiencing Kendrick firsthand.
From his behavior, Tristan realized just how genuine Kendrick’s feelings for Maya were.
And because Kendrick would always be his rival, Tristan wanted to make this clear in person.
“…Don’t you think holding a wedding ceremony for a contractual marriage is excessive?”
The word wedding made Kendrick’s head spin, and his expression twisted.
“Maya wishes it as well…”
Tristan fixed him with a steady gaze.
“And I have no intention of ending my relationship with her as a mere contract.”
He gripped Kendrick’s shoulder firmly, a cold smile curling at his lips.
“There’s no place for you to interfere.”
He could be gentle before Maya, but in front of his rival, he had no such intention.
“Maya isn’t the sort to stay in a marriage forever. She’s someone who always marks her endings clearly.”
Kendrick’s mouth curved into a crooked smile.
After all, Maya didn’t seem intent on choosing Tristan for the future.
“I’ll be the exception.”
But Tristan remained utterly confident.
“So don’t shake what we have.”
Love was not something one could hide forever.
Tristan suspected that Kendrick would one day confess to Maya.
“…That’s not something you can decide.”
“Why not? I’m her one and only husband.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed in amusement.
“And you’re nothing more than a friend.”
His words were cold. Kendrick clenched his fist.
“…Perhaps you should lift your curse first before speaking of love. A man who can only survive by depending on Maya—don’t you find it laughable to speak of affection?”
But to Tristan, who had already received Maya’s comfort—her saying the curse was the very reason they had met—Kendrick’s words carried no weight.
“At least I have a curse. You don’t even have that, do you?”
Tristan’s smile was faint, almost mocking.
The more Kendrick spoke, the more it felt like he was being cornered at the edge of a cliff.
‘This is the first time we’ve spoken so directly.’
He had assumed, from the way Maya would calmly accept his words, that Tristan was poor at verbal sparring. He had been wrong.
The way Tristan smiled politely while parrying every jab made Kendrick realize they were cut from a similar cloth.
“I’ll return as Tower Master. For Maya’s sake.”
“And I’ll ascend as Emperor, to lay the world at Maya’s feet. This time, I’ll rent out an entire dessert shop for her.”
“I’ll just open her a dessert shop of her own.”
Thus began their childish war of words.
Neither could find common ground. Neither had the slightest intention of yielding.
Alec, meanwhile, headed straight to the training grounds upon their return. Traveling in the west had made him itch to resume training with Maya.
Maya herself went for a bath, and Tristan immediately retreated to the study.
Robert, as he had in the north, was there to greet him, with Doshen at his side.
“You’ve returned safely.”
“Have you contacted House Rebour?”
The very first thing Tristan asked about was the private troops they were promised by Hyden.
While he and Maya were away in the west, Doshen had worked with Robert to gather allied houses for House Bearden.
“Yes, but… the number of knights is still lacking.”
Though skilled, the Bearden forces were only a quarter the size of the vast imperial army.
“Our side may have better skill, but if they overwhelm us with numbers, it will still be difficult.”
Even combining the forces of House Baker, which Serren would one day inherit, and the newly gained House Rebour, they still could not match the empire fully.
“That’s fine. As long as they create a battlefield for us…”
A serene smile spread across Tristan’s lips.
“I’ll be able to unleash my power.”
For this revolution, he intended to use his ability to its fullest.
After defeating the butterfly demon, his power had grown stronger.
‘Perhaps because the situation itself has changed.’
His healing magic had grown at an astonishing pace.
Tristan came to his own conclusion:
Until now, House Bearden had never had cause to develop healing magic to its limits.
The ones they healed had never been in life-or-death states from powerful monsters, as Maya had been.
Now, not only could he summon protective shields freely—once something difficult for him—but the barriers were much larger.
He could even stay in his true form for half a day.
…Although maintaining restraint whenever he touched Maya was still a torment, he was growing used to it.
‘I won’t leave everything to Maya.’
If he could wield his healing at the right moment, it would be as useful as her sword.
He would protect the lives and bodies of all who stood with House Bearden.
For those who chose to follow a man making the selfish bid to become a new sovereign—this was his duty.
Tristan opened and closed his fist.
Dark light gathered in his palm, as though greeting him.
But there was still much work to do.
“Shouldn’t you rest a little, my lord?”
Doshen’s expression was worried as he watched Tristan bury himself in the study right after returning.
“Ah, but my rival is hard at work—I can’t very well rest, can I?”
“…Pardon?”
Tristan only chuckled at Doshen’s puzzled look.
“I also need to prepare for the wedding.”
“…The wedding?”
“Yes, something Maya and I discussed. I’ll need to speak with Ophraje as well.”
At the mention of a wedding, Doshen brightened, excitement flickering in his eyes.
“It has been a long time since this house has seen such joy. Preparing it will be a delight.”
There were countless tasks involved in preparing a wedding. Doshen thought of his own and smiled faintly.
But Tristan shook his head.
“No, I’ll prepare the wedding myself. You have a different task.”
“…A different task?”
“Yes. Your vengeance.”
“…What?”
“This is your chance, Doshen.”
Already aware, Robert nodded in encouragement toward her. Doshen blinked.
“…Vengeance?”
“For your husband.”
Casting out Count Baker was not only for Serren’s sake.
It was also for Doshen—the woman who had raised Tristan since childhood.
She had never shown grief or anger at her husband’s death. She disliked showing personal emotions in her work.
But Tristan could see her loneliness.
Her genuine smiles had grown rare, and she often stared into nothingness.
From Doshen, Tristan had learned that sorrow wasn’t always expressed by tears.
“That would be a petty revenge. And the true enemy is the Emperor. The revolution will take care of him…”
Tristan lifted his hand, halting her words.
It seemed those around him always thought of others before themselves.
“If that so-called petty revenge can bring you some peace, then I will gladly stand with you.”
He clasped her trembling hand firmly.
“And you know as well as I do that simply following the Emperor’s orders does not erase Count Baker’s guilt.”
“….”
“So tell me.”
Doshen thought of her husband’s face.
She had loved him. But over the long years, the memory of his face had faded.
She had never wanted to forget him, yet memory slipped away all the same.
Only the happy moments lingered.
But as time passed, she grew afraid.
What if even those memories vanished?
What if she forgot him completely, and even the anger for his sake burned out?
Perhaps this was her last chance.
“…I want him ruined. Death would be far too merciful.”
Her voice shook.
“Indeed.”
Tristan gripped her hand tighter.
“Then let his downfall begin.”
For his people’s sake, Tristan Bearden raised his head.
