Chapter 42
“Yuri! What’s wrong?! Lucy, what happened? Why is Yuri like this?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure… She seemed unwell even before we left the imperial palace.”
Yulia, who had come to her senses in the carriage, had started crying and didn’t stop until they arrived home. And it wasn’t just quiet sobbing—it was loud, full-throated crying. She wept so fiercely that the baron, who had come home early, rushed out of the gate in alarm after hearing her cries.
“Yuri…”
Even when faced with her father’s devastated face, who looked like he might cry with her, Yulia couldn’t stop sobbing. It felt more painful than if the entire household had been thrown out into the street because they couldn’t find a man to support them.
“Young Lady, we’ve arrived. Watch your step on the stairs.”
Yulia couldn’t understand why she was so distraught, why she was crying so much. But she couldn’t bear it. It was as if all hope had vanished from the world before her eyes.
“Oh my! What’s wrong with her? Yulia, why are you crying? What happened?”
“Sis! What’s going on?!”
Even after she stepped inside the house, in front of the baroness and Ian who followed her in, Yulia kept crying. Lucy helped her into the bedroom, removed her dress roughly, and Yulia crawled into bed, where she cried and cried.
“Goodness… What’s with her all of a sudden?”
It was the first time in her life that Yulia had shown such a breakdown, and even the baroness seemed flustered. She followed Yulia into the bedroom and awkwardly patted her back through the blanket.
“Did you do something again?”
“Excuse me? What do you mean ‘again’?”
“You spent Cayente’s money without telling Yuri before, didn’t you? What if he scolded her about it and that’s why she’s like this?”
“I told you, I only used it because Cayente said it was okay! How many times do I have to repeat that?”
“There’s no way Cayente would’ve said that.”
“Why wouldn’t he?! I’m going to be his mother-in-law! If you don’t believe me, I can show you the letter he sent as a reply!”
“What?! You sent him a letter asking for permission to spend his money?!”
“What else could I do?! How could I go around looking shabby when my future son-in-law is none other than the Earl of Clou?!”
The baron, who had been lingering outside the room, finally stepped in when Yulia’s sobs didn’t stop. As he brought up Cayente right away, it was clear that, just like when he saw the bruise on her lip before, the baron believed Cayente was the cause of Yulia’s distress. When he voiced that suspicion aloud, and the baroness responded in kind, Yulia broke down in even louder sobs.
Is money I can use after marrying my brother really that important to Mother? Doesn’t she even care how miserable he makes me?
“Oh dear… So it’s true, then.”
“See? What did I tell you? I told you this marriage wasn’t something she wanted. I told you Yulia was being forced into a marriage she didn’t want, didn’t I?”
“Yulia, did Cayente really scold you for spending too much money? Then why did he send a letter saying to do as you please…?”
Even beyond the basic necessities for the wedding, they had already spent so much money that it must have surpassed the original dowry they had received. Even if her father’s venture succeeded, it was uncertain whether they could ever pay it all back. That debt now stood firmly between her and Cayente.
Yulia knew she couldn’t run from the misfortune that lay ahead.
From the beginning, Cayente hadn’t seemed like he would let her go even if her father returned every coin. He had no intention of returning the money or setting her free.
—I want your unhappiness, Yulia.
If he hated her that much, then wouldn’t it be better to just not see her at all? But no—he didn’t hate her. And he said he genuinely wished for her misery. What kind of twisted logic was that? Did he hate his own misfortune so much that he wanted someone even more miserable by his side, just to feel superior? Yulia now truly believed that she might never be able to escape Cayente’s grasp, just as he had said.
—I think I’ve… fallen into a trap.
She was caught in his trap, and there was no way out. With that realization, Yulia once again lost consciousness.
Maybe she had cried herself to sleep. Yulia once again dreamed of wandering through a dark forest, just like before. Frightened by the shadows closing in behind her, she ran. And again, just like last time, Cayente appeared in her dream, reaching out his hand to her. His appearance matched his current self, but the atmosphere felt like it belonged to a distant memory—an unreal version of Cayente.
“Yuri, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“…It would’ve been nice if that were true.”
Maybe because his face hadn’t changed from what she remembered. That bright smile suited his grown-up face well, but Yulia didn’t cry in front of him like before. She didn’t take his outstretched hand. She knew now—it was a lie.
“It would’ve been nice if things were like this, Kai.”
Because it was a dream, she called him by his name—”Kai”—like she used to as a child, not even bothering with the formal term “brother.” Without even looking at him, she turned to face the darkness rushing toward her. A chilling cold wrapped around her, making her skin crawl.
Even though it was a dream, the sensations felt real. Yulia shivered and woke up. But even with her eyes open, the room remained dark, like her eyes were still closed.
“Yuri, are you feeling a little calmer now?”
As Yulia stirred and made rustling noises, her father, who had been sitting beside her the whole time, quickly stood up and approached her.
“Father… I’m thirsty.”
“Of course, you must be. You cried so much. Here, drink this.”
The baron handed her a glass of water the moment she finished speaking. As Yulia drank the whole glass, her eyes fell on the cello resting against the wall.
“The Earl of Clou’s people brought it. I wonder what happened, that you left it behind…”
He should’ve just thrown it out. After all those cruel things he said—asking who said she could play the cello—why would he send it back? Yulia couldn’t understand.
“Father.”
“Yes, Yulia?”
“I’m sorry. You always supported me, but… I don’t think I can play the cello anymore.”
“What? Why? Did Cayente tell you to stop? Is that why you were crying like that?”
That wasn’t exactly it, but hearing the regret in her father’s voice made Yulia start crying again.
“Yes.”
Saying she needed permission was just another way of saying she wasn’t allowed. Cayente had already gotten angry, asking who gave her permission to play in the first place.
“I’ll try to fix this, Yulia… I’ll find a way…”
“It’s okay, Father.”
“How is it okay? You can’t play the cello. I… I was so foolish. I really believed that no matter who it was, they would love you, cherish you. Even if you wanted to be a circus performer like those gypsies, I thought they’d accept it. I thought no matter who you married, you would be happy.”
Looking at the cello, which had returned without a scratch, Yulia wiped her tears and smiled at her father.
“I know, Father.”
There’s no such thing as loving one child more than another, but Yulia knew she was especially dear to her father. He often wondered how a child like Yulia could have ended up with parents like them, unable to give her even a pretty dress for each season.
In his eyes, Yulia was a precious daughter. Of course all parents love their children, but as his firstborn, the baron doted on Yulia to the point where he couldn’t remain objective when it came to her.
So naturally, he believed others would feel the same. That no matter who Yulia married, she would be loved and would live out her dreams. That’s why, even if it broke his heart, he had decided to marry her off. He had never imagined that marriage would make her miserable.
“And really, Father, I’ll be fine. Even without the cello, I can still be happy.”
And how did Yulia feel? In truth, she had once believed that too. That she could make any marriage a happy one—as long as the man was decent and felt even a sliver of affection for her, she believed she could adjust and find happiness in it.
“Even if I have nothing else, I’ll be happy, Father.”
“Yuri…”
She had thought she understood what kind of marriage this was. Especially that she had no expectations for Cayente—that she wasn’t hoping for anything. But it turned out, that wasn’t true. She kept looking for the Cayente from her memories, even while telling herself he had changed.
—With love and support, I’m sure he’ll find his true self again.
Even after all that had happened, she had truly believed that for a moment. That Cayente could become a good person. That this marriage could still bring happiness.
“So don’t worry too much, Father.”
It was only after all her hopes were completely shattered that Yulia realized what she had been holding onto all this time. It was Cayente. The hope for happiness with him. She hadn’t even realized he might want her to be unhappy, and yet she had tried to find joy with him.
Now, after realizing so painfully that her expectations would never be met, she had come to understand something else.
“I’m going to live a happy life.”
Just because Cayente could control her actions and appearances didn’t mean he could control her heart. Even without a cello in her life… even if she couldn’t meet anyone freely, couldn’t wear what she wanted, and had to lie beside a man every night who touched her without love only to produce an heir… Yulia didn’t care anymore.
Should she be miserable just because a man decided to trap her beside him with no reason other than to make her unhappy?
If one of them had to be miserable, it wouldn’t be her. If someone had to be unhappy because of their twisted desires, let it be Cayente. Not her.
