Chapter 63
Yulia cried herself to sleep where she had collapsed, waking only to sob several more times even in her half-dreaming state. The thought of losing her home, her land, and even the factory shares was unbearable—how would her family survive from then on? And what of her father, whose whereabouts were now unknown? Was he safe? Her heart ached so badly she could hardly endure it.
The worst part was knowing she herself was the cause. The baron had fallen into the hands of a swindler while desperately trying to prevent her from being forced into a marriage where she wouldn’t even be able to touch her cello freely.
“Sleep some more. It’s still night.”
Whenever she burst into muffled sobs, there was always a hand patting her back, urging her to rest. That hand reminded her of her father, who used to sit by her bed when she had bad dreams, soothing her until she drifted off again. Because of that touch, Yulia eventually stopped waking in tears, sleeping deeply until morning.
“Where’s Father? What about Mother and Ian? We can always take our honeymoon later—how can I go traveling when the entire household is in shambles?”
“Will the problem be solved if you stay here?”
When Yulia opened her eyes to the morning sun, she was met with Cayente, already dressed and prepared to depart. A honeymoon, at a time like this? Yulia was bewildered, but Cayente showed not a hint of concession.
“So you’re saying we should just leave everything as it is? Or will you fix it, brother?”
“I’m considering it.”
“Considering it…?”
“Have you forgotten how much money I’ve already spent on this marriage? And now you’re asking me to pour in just as much again?”
His sudden talk of money made her wonder if she had imagined everything from yesterday—the hand that had held her until the priest’s declaration was finished, the gentle patting when she cried in her sleep.
“If, in less than half a year, your father has already repeated the same mistake and in even worse fashion, do you think he has any excuse left? Isn’t that why he ran away? Pouring water into a bottomless jar—that’s what it was. How much longer do you expect me to keep doing that?”
Even angry, she couldn’t argue. Every word was right. After failing once, her father should have been more cautious the next time. Still, Yulia could not bring herself to resent him. He had done it for her.
“My lady,” Henry spoke gently, “though I know your heart is troubled, please don’t worry and go. At least your family will not be left to sleep on the streets or starve. While you are away, I will do my utmost to find ways to help as well.”
If even Henry could say such things, why was Cayente so merciless? Yulia bit back her tears and looked him squarely in the face.
“Just promise me one thing—don’t abandon my family. That’s why I agreed to this marriage. You know that.”
“You want to claim the rights without fulfilling the obligations?”
“That’s not what I mean. I’ll prepare to leave right away. That’s enough, isn’t it? I understand.”
Perhaps yesterday really had been a dream. The look in his eyes that had seemed as though he’d fallen for her at first sight, the way he had cared for her—none of it remained. If only her father’s troubles could vanish like a dream as well.
Still, Yulia forced her unwilling feet forward.
“My lady, safe travels. I ought to go with you, but you said it wasn’t necessary… I’ll stay and help the butler search for the baron. Don’t cry, just return safely.”
But when they arrived at the station, Lucy too announced she wouldn’t accompany them. Yulia tried not to cry, but Lucy’s reddening eyes broke her resolve. She clung to her maid and sobbed for a long while before finally boarding the train.
She had thought giving up her path as a cellist to marry would be the hardest decision of her life—but now another trial had come. Feeling cursed by fate, Yulia wept bitterly.
“Enough. Let’s go.”
Cayente ignored even those tears.
The Duchy of Esacudia was connected to the Rhesikan Empire by a direct line, no transfers needed. Even so, the journey took an entire day, so Cayente had reserved an expensive first-class suite. Yet despite the lavish interior, Yulia sat blankly, eyes unfocused, watching the scenery blur past the window.
“Eat something.”
She looked as though she had no will to even visit the dining car, so Cayente ordered their lunch brought in. But even with the rich smell filling the room, Yulia didn’t stir until he spoke directly to her.
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. Do you plan to collapse on this train before we arrive?”
Yulia lifted her gaze, looking at him quietly. Though all strength had drained from her, her golden eyes still gleamed where the sunlight struck them, as beautiful as ever.
If only she would cry and beg him more openly—help me, don’t leave me alone—perhaps he could have responded. But once he had told her he was “considering,” she had fallen silent, and that silence shook him more than tears.
When she had walked down the aisle in her wedding dress, when she had kissed him—didn’t she see that his gaze toward her had changed? Yet Yulia abandoned all hope, resigning herself. That resignation unsettled him more than her sorrow.
“Brother, you’re strange. You ignore everything else but always fuss if I don’t eat.”
At least she managed a faint smile when she said it. Cayente let out an unseen sigh of relief, watching her closely.
He had turned away from her tears in Lucy’s arms at the station because he knew—if he so wished, he could easily take those tears away. The talk of money had been an excuse. The amount he’d already invested in this marriage, and what it might cost to resolve the mess, was hardly unmanageable for him.
“…I’ll eat. For Father’s sake, if nothing else.”
But if he was going to help, he should have stopped everything from the beginning. Better not to make her cry at all, rather than comfort her afterward. He knew perfectly well how she would break, and yet he had pushed forward. Even if her tears ached in his chest, he couldn’t regret his choice entirely.
“To think… even in such grief, this new cheese tastes so good—it’s absurd.”
The last two years of his life had been for this very plan. He couldn’t just leave it unfinished. The outcome had proven more painful than expected, but even knowing it, he would have made the same decision.
“At least… I won’t abandon your family.”
His hatred for Baron Luperre had been too heavy to be lifted even by bringing about the man’s ruin. He could never undo what he had done, nor could he wholeheartedly care for the family left behind. But perhaps he could at least do enough so that Yulia would not have to weep again.
“So eat. Your family can only stand if you do.”
For Yulia no longer bore the name of Luperre—she carried the name of Cluga now.
After dinner, once the evening grew dark, attendants arrived to rearrange their seats into a fine bed.
The makeshift bed was surprisingly comfortable, and the rhythmic clatter of the train made for good sleep. But Yulia couldn’t rest. With the lights out, her thoughts returned, and soon the tears followed.
Is Father truly all right? Has Mother, has Ian been thrown out already? Is it right for me to be safe here while they suffer?
“Brother… are you asleep?”
She thought of the man who had urged her aboard the train that morning without a word of comfort. Perhaps he wasn’t a support at all—perhaps he only stayed near because the wedding would fall apart if she collapsed. Perhaps he secretly enjoyed her misfortune.
“No.”
But in the hush of night, with fear pressing in, he was still the only one she could lean on.
“…If the bed isn’t too narrow, may I… lie beside you?”
She only wanted the warmth of another person. To her surprise, instead of telling her to sleep, she heard movement from across the suite. Cayente silently approached.
“Turn to the wall. There’s no room for us both to lie facing up.”
She rolled onto her side, and he settled behind her, arm beneath her head, drawing her securely into his embrace.
“Hh… hhhnn…”
Whatever she thought, her heart still felt hollow, her world winter-cold though the summer heat pressed outside. Feeling his warmth at her back broke what little control she had left, and she cried.
Instead of scolding her for weeping again, Cayente sighed softly into her hair.
“Your tears change nothing. If you truly care for your father and family, let go of your worries and focus only on what’s before you.”
He was baffling—always changing, impossible to know whether he truly wished for her unhappiness or worried for her.
“There are many things you’ll enjoy in Esacudia. If you think of your family suffering while you’re happy, you’ll only feel guilty. But there’s nothing you can do. So leave the guilt to me, and you… smile.”
Whether it was comfort or rebuke, she couldn’t tell. But his low words blurred together as her eyelids grew heavy, and she finally drifted into sleep. For once, she dreamed no nightmares.
