Chapter 55
—“Brother!”
Even in the faintest light seeping in through the small window, those golden eyes gleamed vividly. When Cayente met them, he thought for a moment that it was all a dream. He couldn’t believe how Yulia’s eyes could shine so clearly, even in this darkness.
Now I feel alive.
Even if it were a dream, the comfort he felt just from Yulia’s presence was hard to believe. …It was unbelievable, but he had missed her so much.
Yes, that’s right… Memories from the past, ones he had pushed aside, came rushing back. Back then, no matter how frightening the thunder, he could endure it as long as Yulia was there. When he was wrapped tightly in her small arms, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, it felt like there was nothing to fear in the world—not even the thunder.
That little child had given him such strength back then.
—“And what happened to your hand?!”
Cayente realized it wasn’t a dream when Yulia grabbed his hand and let out a small gasp. It wasn’t the dull pain or the bleeding wound that made it real—it was her changed face.
She had grown into the kind of woman anyone would fall for, not just cute but strikingly beautiful—fresh, gentle, and just past the cusp of girlhood.
Even knowing this wasn’t a dream, Cayente pretended not to know. He wanted to believe it was a dream. He wanted to hold Yulia like this, like he did back then, and find comfort in her presence.
Though they were somehow moved into a bedroom he didn’t recognize, even when he partially regained consciousness, he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.
“Half your nail is gone here. We should call a doctor, don’t you think?”
“Won’t Lady Maria be worried?”
“She’ll be shocked no matter when she sees it. Still, no need to cause a commotion in the middle of the night. I’ll go quietly by myself.”
It was horrifying to realize that he had sought comfort from the very woman who had threatened to torment him. He didn’t even know how to face Yulia now.
After Henry’s footsteps faded and the door closed, Yulia’s sigh echoed through the room.
“I thought you’d gotten better…”
Her voice came from nearby, followed by the gentle touch of her hand on the back of his. Despite all his earlier resolve not to even glance her way, Yulia’s touch was so cautious and warm that Cayente let out a deep sigh inwardly.
How… how can you not hate me like this…?
Forget being hated—this grown man had torn at the bars like a madman, terrified of thunder. It wouldn’t be strange at all if Yulia feared him now.
“I thought I’d overcome it…”
But Yulia didn’t fear Cayente—she only looked at him with deep sympathy. When her hand, which had been gently stroking his, moved to touch his cheek, Cayente thought he really should get up and push her away. Who was she to pity him?
“How terrified must you have been to hurt your hand like this…”
But Cayente didn’t hate her touch.
In the midst of unending rain, he needed Yulia’s embrace. So, Cayente decided to treat everything that had happened tonight as a dream.
If only Yulia weren’t the daughter of his enemy—then maybe he could have held onto this warmth just a little longer.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Son, get up now—breakfa… Oh my! I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
She must have dozed off next to him, intending only to check on him through the night. A doctor must have come and gone, but Yulia hadn’t noticed. Maria’s morning visit caught her completely off guard. Judging by how still Cayente was, he must’ve slept well too.
“I shouldn’t have bothered setting up separate rooms.”
Relieved, Yulia was able to wake fully. The room was bright, meaning the rain had stopped—thankfully. But how things had turned out left her flustered and embarrassed.
Though she remembered lying down fully clothed, she now found herself in only a chemise, her dress and corset removed—likely Lucy’s doing. Cayente, too, had been stripped of his coat, left in just his shirt. They were facing each other in bed, limbs tangled as they held one another. So tightly, in fact, that it was hard to pull away all at once.
“I’ll make sure to knock next time. Hurry and get ready to come down.”
Maria had come just to wake her son, but turned away quickly and stepped out before Yulia could even greet her. Flustered, Yulia looked around for something to cover herself, but nothing was within reach.
Her summer chemise was thin—nearly sheer. She needed to get back to her room before Cayente woke. She tried to slip out of bed in a hurry, but Cayente suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Hey… What’s with this?”
“What?”
Startled, Yulia sat back on the bed and followed Cayente’s gaze to her right shoulder—and gasped. A large, dark bruise had formed across her shoulder and arm. It was so deep that it showed clearly even through the chemise.
“Ah… I must’ve bruised myself.”
Though she knew that wasn’t what he was really asking, Yulia smiled as she said it. She had momentarily forgotten where she got the injury, but Cayente’s expression was more serious than ever.
“Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t I tell you never to do something like that again?”
She remembered him saying something like that, but couldn’t recall when. After thinking hard, Yulia sighed deeply, her small frame curling in slightly, then replied.
“Did you erase the words ‘thank you’ from your mind?”
“What?”
“Even before… and now, shouldn’t ‘thank you’ be the first thing you say?”
Cayente’s usually expressionless face faltered, his eyes trembling slightly, perhaps still reeling from yesterday’s events.
“You clung to me, trembling like a leaf, terrified, and now that you’re okay, you’re pretending nothing happened?”
“…Even if I had died there, it’s not your concern.”
Cayente looked away, his lips curled in bitter emotion, and Yulia, frustrated, fully turned to him and sat on her knees facing him.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“What?”
“If the man I’m supposed to marry suddenly disappears, what do you expect me to do? I never wanted this life—but now my life is tied to whether my husband lives or dies. At the very least, you should take responsibility. You went so far as to marry me just to experience my misfortune—don’t tell me you weren’t prepared for that much?”
Whether he liked it or not, the truth was undeniable. Whether Cayente truly wished her misery or not, they were now bound together in a way that made separating impossible. A shared fate, inescapable.
“And… why are you so bothered by the bruise on the body of the woman you claim you wish to see suffer? Why?”
Yulia asked the question even though she already knew the answer. She expected him to say something about how inappropriate it was for the future countess to be so injured.
But Cayente said something entirely different.
“It’s not worth it.”
“Huh?”
“There’s no reason for you to get hurt just to save someone like me.”
Even if it had been a reflexive act, she had saved him from the lighthouse. Now he was saying this?
Yulia stared straight into Cayente’s eyes and said:
“I will save you.”
“Even if you wouldn’t save me in return because you think I’m not worth it—I will save you. Like it or not, you’re my husband now.”
Even if he didn’t love her—because Cayente was now her husband, if he was in danger, she would save him even if it meant breaking her own body.
✦ ✦ ✦
Maria followed them all the way to the harbor and tightly held Yulia’s hand as she was about to board the ship, her expression on the verge of tears.
“I guess it’d be too much to hope for sudden rain again today?”
Seeing Maria like that, Yulia also teared up. They had unexpectedly stayed two nights due to the circumstances, but it still felt too short. If they’d returned on the day of Cayente’s arrival, she wouldn’t have had even this much time with Maria.
“Even if my brother’s busy, I’ll find a way to come back again. But before that, I hope your heart finds peace so I can bring you outside the island.”
“Will I ever leave this island before I die?”
Maria laughed, but her laugh carried a tremble, a fear of facing people. Yulia, though heavy-hearted, smiled as if she didn’t notice and Maria, holding back tears, spoke again.
“Maybe if you two ever have a child, I might come out to see them at least once.”
Yulia could only look at her, heart aching, unsure of what to say.
