Count Bastin looked curiously at the small noble lady following behind him.
‘Is she truly the one who suffered such terrible things at the hands of Maier?’
She had grown a little taller, but she was still a seventeen-year-old girl.
And yet, she had boldly declared that she wanted to see Maier, even in this prison where the only light came from flickering candles.
The dungeon beneath the Tigerris estate was a place even seasoned knights feared. That’s when the noble lady spoke up.
“This place is very cramped and dark… and confusing.”
Count Bastin nodded.
Just as she said, the prison was built like a maze.
“The former duke designed it himself. Even if someone tried to escape, they’d likely die of starvation while getting lost inside.”
Selenea murmured, “That explains it…” and nodded.
“It took me five years after it was built to finally get used to it.”
Chuckling, Count Bastin led them into an even narrower and darker corridor.
As they rounded a corner, a horrible stench stabbed at their noses. He turned back cautiously to look at Selenea.
“We’re almost there, but… this may be a bit much for you, miss.”
But she shook her head as if it were nothing.
“I’m fine.”
Her calm and indifferent response made Bastin glance at her in surprise.
‘Is this boldness something she inherited from His Grace?’
A faint smile unknowingly tugged at his lips. And then, the cell holding Maier finally came into view.
“This is the one.”
As Count Bastin gestured, Selenea slowly approached the iron bars.
She furrowed her brow as she examined the inside.
“He’s in worse shape than I imagined.”
“We thought he might regain consciousness if we tortured him a bit…”
She nodded slowly, as if that made sense. Then, after a moment of silence, she murmured softly,
“Indeed… there’s no life left in his eyes…”
Bastin looked at her curiously.
She didn’t belong here. Not in this place. She wore a flowing indoor dress that revealed her frail limbs and had skin paled from being bedridden so long.
Yet here she was, calmly gazing into a blood-soaked prison cell—staring at Maier Luse, a walking corpse—without even flinching.
Bastin found the scene oddly fascinating and couldn’t help but watch her with interest. That’s when it happened.
“…This doesn’t make sense.”
Selenea murmured under her breath.
“How could he have gone mad the moment the torture began?”
Count Bastin stroked his beard and replied,
“Some people react that way. It’s usually due to overwhelming psychological pressure.”
“But I don’t think that’s the reason in this case.”
He made a thoughtful sound and looked into the cell. Then, opening his mouth, he said,
“His Grace and I have considered that possibility as well. But there’s been no clear clue—”
Suddenly, the count trailed off and stared in shock at Selenea.
She had unexpectedly reached her hand into the filthy, waste-covered cell.
“Miss! That’s dangerous—!!”
Just as he moved toward her in alarm—
Clink—
Selenea pulled something out from inside the cell.
“That’s…”
Count Bastin tilted his head in confusion.
In her hand was something strange: Maier’s necklace, something no one had paid any attention to during all the torture sessions.
But Selenea examined it closely, then suddenly lifted her sleeve.
She began wiping the dirt and grime from the necklace.
“Miss, why on earth are you—?”
Count Bastin’s eyes widened.
Selenea was now even using her skirt to clean it.
His expression turned uneasy.
Her once-white skirt was being stained with blackish-red blotches, but Selenea didn’t seem to care.
Eventually, she looked closely at the now relatively cleaner necklace and asked,
“May I take this with me?”
Count Bastin looked at her in disbelief, then nodded reluctantly.
Meanwhile, in the Duke’s office…
“Young Lady Selenea went to the prison to see Maier.”
At Valter’s report, the duke looked up from his documents.
“Selenea? In the prison?”
“Yes. Count Bastin came to greet you, and the young lady suddenly insisted on visiting the dungeon…”
Alean silently stood from his chair.
“Are you going to see her?” Valter asked.
But the duke didn’t respond.
He just stood there, expressionless, before slowly sitting back down again—without doing anything.
Valter looked at him in disbelief.
Standing up and sitting down again?
Every time Selenea was mentioned, the duke showed this strange behavior.
Once, he’d even walked all the way to her room with Valter, only to turn back right at the door.
Unable to hold back, Valter finally asked,
“What happened between you two the other day? Why are you acting like this?”
“…”
The duke didn’t answer.
Valter sighed in frustration.
“If you’re that curious, just go see her. It’s so simple—”
But he quickly fell silent.
The duke had slowly turned his head to look at him, his gaze chilling.
Then he spoke coldly,
“Get out.”
It meant: Stop talking and get lost.
Valter shook his head, gave a brief bow, and left the office.
Meanwhile, Alean silently watched the door close, then turned back again.
His fingers tapped the desk out of habit as he pondered something.
It had been days since he last visited Selenea’s room.
Before she woke up, he’d gone to see her every single day.
Looking at that face—so much like Hemera’s—always left him with complex feelings. Sometimes it filled him with warmth, sometimes sorrow. And sometimes… fear.
But…
“I never hated her…”
He muttered quietly.
The words that child had spoken to him a few days ago still echoed clearly in his mind.
As if she had seen through the rot inside him, she had spoken to him gently, trying to comfort him.
“I don’t hate you.”
“It’s not because I resent you or anything… really.”
“It was something that couldn’t be helped. Things rarely go the way we want…”
“Please don’t cry.”
And yet she was the one crying her eyes out.
As he recalled her, something boiled up inside him again.
Alean thought to himself—
Hemera’s death had been an accident, but if he’d just been a little more careful, it could have been prevented.
Enemies had always targeted Tigerris. It was almost inevitable.
His father, the former duke, had been killed by his own brother. In a brief moment of carelessness, a blade was driven into his back.
“That title was mine! Father loved me more, you hear?! Remember this, Alean! Your father stole what was mine! I was just taking back what belonged to me!!”
His uncle had screamed until the end, bloodshot eyes filled with hatred, his voice twisted in rage and curses too vile to repeat.
That memory had been seared into Alean’s mind.
It was then that he truly understood:
At least in Tigerris, in order to claim power, someone had to shed blood.
It was not strange for a brother to kill a sibling, or a son to murder his father.
Maybe that’s why…
At some point, Alean had started thinking: Trust no one but yourself. Never give your heart to anyone. Just to survive.
But then…
“Alean, I want to become your family.”
That playful laugh. Those eyes, more beautiful than anything else in the world.
One day, Hemera had come into his life.
Like a stone thrown into a still pond, she had landed in his heart, creating deep ripples.
At first, he hesitated.
His mother, and the previous duchess, hadn’t lived long.
He was afraid Hemera would meet the same fate.
But…
“I’m not someone who needs to be protected. I’ll make my own decisions about my life.”
He still remembered her saying that, clearly and firmly, looking straight into his eyes.
“Alean, not even you get to decide my life. This is my choice.”
In the end, she paid for that choice with her life. Her body was never found.
No matter what she said, he had wanted to protect her.
He vividly remembered the day he returned to the castle eight years ago after a long battle.
It had been a night of heavy rain, thunder, and lightning.
There had been an intruder in the castle. Hemera had rushed into Selenea’s room. To protect their child, no doubt.
“F-Father… M-Mother is…! Mother is hurt…!”
Selenea had muttered blankly, her clothes soaked in Hemera’s blood.
The window had been wide open. Hemera was nowhere to be found.
She had vanished completely. They scoured the entire territory but never found her.
All that remained were traces of forced entry.
Selenea had collapsed, as if dead. And when she finally came to, she had lost her voice.
She had tried, many times, to follow her mother.
She never went through with it, but her life had already been shattered.
Her grief quickly became despair, then anger, and finally… turned into self-hatred.
So when Selenea refused to speak to him at all, he had simply accepted it.
Like a fool, he had never doubted it.
He was a terrible father, after all—wasn’t it only natural that the child would hate and avoid him?
“…Ha.”
Alean rubbed his aching temples.
“Please don’t cry.”
Selenea’s words echoed endlessly in his head.
