Chapter 32
“Take your hands off my wife… right now.”
Mercian had never once truly dwelled on the idea of Ruan’s death.
From the very start, theirs had not been a marriage born of love—it was a time-limited arrangement, entered into knowing he would not live long.
Six months together, without incident, and once he was gone, she would wrap up her life in the ducal household and leave.
That was all she had expected.
When Charles died in an accident, Mercian had been only ten—too young to fully grasp what death meant.
All she knew then was the grief of losing the only person in the viscount’s household who had stood by her side, who had loved her.
Looking back now, even his passing had not shaken her to the core.
Survival had been more urgent than mourning—keeping a roof over their heads, treading carefully under the watchful eyes of Penelope and Luciane.
So, she had never given Ruan’s impending death much thought.
He was, after all, a man she’d lived with for only six months—a husband in name alone.
She had pitied the way his body grew thinner with each passing week, but that was all.
In four and a half months, their time together amounted to shared breakfasts and dinners and four nights a week sleeping in the same bed without intimacy.
They had never exchanged tender whispers, never shared a deep kiss or caress.
She had been certain her heart would not be moved.
She had believed that when Ruan died, she would not grieve much—certain she would send him off with a proper funeral and then walk away, unshaken.
At least… until she saw him collapse before her very eyes.
The moment he burst into the bookshop, breaking down the door, Mercian realized something startling.
Not until she thought, Why is he here?
And along with that, the startling truth: that she felt relieved it was him.
And the instant she saw his face—saw the way he looked at her—she understood.
She had been waiting for him.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to take his hand and leave this place with him.
She wrenched her arm free from the crown prince’s grip—his arrogant, nonsensical words ringing in her ears.
But the more she struggled, the tighter his fingers clamped around her arm, as if determined to provoke Ruan further.
Why is the crown prince doing this?
Could he actually believe Ruan was in love with her?
Impossible.
Ruan only acted this way because he saw the prince as dangerous and feared what harm he might cause her.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Ruan had been striding toward her, but suddenly he stopped, pressing a hand to his chest.
With a pained expression, he looked at Damon and forced out the words—
“Take your hands off my wife… right now.”
What’s wrong with him?
Don’t tell me—he’s about to collapse again, like last time?
“Ruan, is it happening again? Are you in pain? Ruan, please—let go of my arm! Ruan!”
Before her eyes, he mouthed words, face twisted in agony.
And in the depths of his gaze—filled with the terror of facing death—she felt his pain as if it were her own.
She could almost hear the words he was struggling to force out and see them formed in the tremble of his lips.
The moment she realized what he was trying to say, the tears came all at once.
What… What did you just say?
That you love me?
Now? At this moment?
Ruan… That’s not fair.
I’m not ready to face your end.
You said you had a month and a half left…
Yes, I’ve seen you grow thinner, weaker.
But if you collapse in front of me like this—what am I supposed to do?
The instant he crumpled to the floor, Mercian shoved the crown prince away with all her strength and rushed to Ruan’s side.
Diamond’s eyes widened as he stared at the man clutching his chest on the ground.
What? Is he… dead? Just like that?
After all the schemes I’ve spun to bring him down, the man who never once flinched… collapses over a few words about taking his wife as my mistress?
Is this some kind of act?
Yes, Diamond had been trying to provoke him with absurd talk—but he hadn’t expected Ruan to fall so easily.
Diamond, shoved to the floor by Merciane, stared blankly at the collapsed Duke Ruan.
Watching Merciane in a daze, frantically examining Ruan’s body, he realised this wasn’t an act.
The man wasn’t pretending.
Did I push him too far? Did the poison take hold faster because of me?
Wait…
If the duke dies here and now, there’ll be no one left to stand in my way.
If he breathes his last in this place, even Harmon won’t dare defy me.
I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
Diamond’s gaze slid to Merciane, cradling Ruan tightly in her arms.
Slowly, he drew the sword from his waist and began walking toward them.
“Your Highness… what is it you mean to do?”
She stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
For a moment, he considered cutting her down as well, but… no.
Mercian was interesting in her own right, apart from Ruan.
He could grant her one last chance.
Softening his expression into something almost coaxing, Diamond smiled at her as though speaking to a stubborn child.
“My lady, if you hand over the duke now, I will keep my word. When I ascend the throne, I will make you my consort—no, my empress. Give him to me.”
Her arms tightened around Ruan, her face hardening.
“That will not happen.”
“Think carefully, my lady. Once he dies, you will be nothing but a hollow title—no longer tied to your viscount’s house, stripped of all noble standing. But if you give him to me now, you’ll live out your days in the imperial palace, bathed in luxury. Hand him over.”
His heart’s still beating. Weak, but steady. He’s not gone yet.
Mercian looked him dead in the eye.
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but I have no interest in being your so-called mistress. If you are so desperate for one, perhaps you should speak with Lady Beanon, who’s been all too eager to stand by your side. And as you can see, thanks to the duke breaking down that door, the people outside have a clear view of this room. I would advise you not to act in a way that will spark a scandal.”
What did she just say? ‘So-called mistress’? Does she even understand what she’s refusing?
Noblewomen across the empire would claw each other’s eyes out for the chance to be in my bed, and yet she dares defy me for the sake of a man at death’s door?
Diamond studied her, her expression burning with the fierce resolve to protect Ruan at any cost.
It made his insides twist.
Why him? What has he done for her? What does he have that I lack?
Fine, then.
I’ll grant your wish.
If you want to join him, I’ll send you both together.
And when he dies believing you’ll be mine, he can rot in the hell of that thought for eternity.
“Very well, my lady,” Diamond said smoothly.
“If you wish to go with the dying man, I won’t stop you. I’ll simply send you together.”
The sword arced high, then came down toward her.
Clang!
“Brother. It’s been a while.”
Cassel’s voice rang out from behind the blade that had blocked Diamond’s strike.
Harmon and a squad of knights filed into the bookshop behind him.
“My lord! My lady! Are you unharmed?”
Shielding Ruan with her body, Mercian looked up, saw Cassel, and sprang to her feet with the duke in her arms.
“Cassel! Get him to the ducal estate now! And summon the physician!”
“Cassel, take the duke,” Harmon ordered sharply. “I’ll handle matters here.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At Harmon’s word, Cassel whisked Mercian and the unconscious Ruan out of the shop.
“Harmon. Why are you here? I heard you wouldn’t return to the capital until next week.”
“I arrived sooner than expected. But tell me, brother—what are you doing here, drawing your sword on a helpless woman and a poisoned man?”
“Harmon, marrying some princess from a backwater kingdom doesn’t make you anyone of importance.”
Harmon brushed aside the sword aimed at him and stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Brother, the door’s broken. The citizens outside can see everything. The capital’s already abuzz with unsavoury rumours—you don’t need to give them more.”
Damn it.
If not for those cursed rumours…
Diamond knew all too well that with Kaimon under house arrest, if he caused a scandal now, there would be no one left to clean up after him.
“Don’t worry. As if I’d actually kill the Duke and his wife. I only meant to give them a little… warning not to run their mouths so carelessly.”
Diamond sheathed his sword with a smile that pretended it had all been in jest.
Harmon returned the smile, though his eyes were sharp.
“In the month and a half I’ve been away from the Empire, it seems a great deal has happened.”
“…”
“Oh, and—Father personally urged me to get to the bottom of those rumours running rampant in the capital.”
At Haman’s deliberate provocation, Daimond’s expression twisted into something vicious.
I should have killed that bastard earlier!
Without Ruan, he’s nothing…
No—right now, I can’t say that.
No one knows when he might wake.
If I’m lucky… Maybe he’ll never wake at all.
Yes… This is my opportunity to permanently remove you from my view.
You have a limited amount of time left, so feel free to swagger all you want.
“I see. Father has entrusted you with quite an important mission. Well then, I’m sure you’ll do splendidly. You handled the refugee crisis so admirably—you’ll surely have no trouble catching the culprit.”
“Thank you for the encouragement, Brother.”
With a thin, cutting smile, Diamond brushed past Harman toward the door of the bookshop—then paused, turned, and added with a mockery of warmth,
“Harman… Do be careful. You’ve just gotten married, after all. Wouldn’t want to turn your bride into a widow so soon, would we? Hahahaha!”
As Diamond strode out, Tablo entered, making his way straight to Harman.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?”
“For now. But… I think the time has come to settle things with my brother. What about Ruan?”
“He’s been moved to the Duke’s residence. Still hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“I understand. Let’s return to the palace.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
***
“How did it happen? Why the Duke?”
“I don’t know. He just clutched his chest in agony… and collapsed.”
In the carriage, Cassel longed to press Merican for more details, but she looked far too unwell herself.
What in the world did the Crown Prince do to them?
The curse was supposed to be broken… So why?
.
.
.
The news of Ruan’s collapse spread quickly, and soon the Duke’s residence was seeing a constant stream of the Empire’s finest physicians.
Yet none brought word of
improvement—none could wake him.
The people of the Empire, who had once hailed Ruan as their hero, prayed fervently for his swift recovery.
A week passed.
Still, no change.
Even when Biseluk summoned both the Duke’s personal physician and the Imperial Court’s medical staff, the answer was the same: there was nothing physically wrong.
“Then why won’t he wake?” Merican’s voice trembled. “Could the poison have spread? Is it true there’s no antidote?”
The physician hesitated, wearing an awkward expression.
“My lady… forgive me, but I see no sign of lasting harm.”
Merican, who had not slept a full night since Ruan fell, felt as though her insides were burning away.
If everyone says there’s nothing wrong… why won’t you wake up?
Ruan… please.
Open your eyes.
She felt a cold, suffocating fear at the idea that he might pass away in this way, quietly, without ever waking.
.
.
.
“My lady!”
“Marquis!”
Emerging from Ruan’s chamber, Merican spotted Tablo hurrying into the Duke’s residence and rushed toward him.
Her face was drawn, her figure thin.
“How is Ruan?” he asked, gravely.
“They say there’s nothing wrong… but he won’t wake.”
Seeing her on the verge of tears, Tablo spoke gently.
“I’ve brought another physician. I’ll go in and take a look.”
“I’ll… no. I’ll wait outside.”
When she stepped back, giving him space, he looked at her with a flicker of apology in his eyes.
“Forgive me, Madam. This will only take a moment. Elder, please come in.”
At Tablo’s words, the elderly man who had been following behind into the ducal estate gave a polite bow to Mercian before stepping into the duke’s chambers.
“Well, Elder, what do you think?”
“Hmm…”
Moses examined Ruan’s body, lying as if in a deep sleep, his hands moving here and there with quiet precision.
Then, his face broke into a bright smile.
“Congratulations, Marquis.”
“…Pardon?”
“The Duke’s curse has been completely lifted. Look here—do you see? The thin lines that were once etched into his arm have all vanished.”
Tablo, checking Ruan’s arm for himself, tilted his head in confusion.
“But… I heard he collapsed from terrible pain in his heart. And now, it’s been a week, and he still hasn’t woken up…”
“It’s said that when a curse breaks, the heart experiences excruciating pain. Most faint but wake within a day or two. In the Duke’s case… he has been eating poorly for so long that his strength was dangerously depleted. That’s why it has taken longer. But now his condition has stabilized considerably. At the latest, he will wake within two or three days. Once he regains consciousness, if he eats well and tends to his health, there will be nothing more to fear.”
At Moses’s assurance, Tablo turned to the unconscious Ruan, disbelief written across his face.
When they’d said the curse was weakening, he’d thought it unlikely—almost laughable.
But now… the curse truly was gone?
You, who never cared for anything that didn’t concern you…
You, who once said the most foolish thing in the world was to throw away your life for love…
At that moment, collapsing in the bookshop, were you really ready to give your life for her?
