Chapter 102
Gray, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, tried hard to hide his fear as he shouted:
“Delusion? No, I really did make a contract with a witch. Anne and I—kugh—”
In an instant, Hannibal grabbed Gray by the collar.
“The moment you signed a contract with a witch and rewound time, your connection with Anne was finished. Be grateful for that.”
“Cough—cough! Ghhuk—”
Gray struggled, but his face only flushed redder as his breath was cut off. He couldn’t escape Hannibal’s grip.
“That time you’re clinging to isn’t the past or anything real. It’s nothing more than an illusion that will never happen again. So don’t you dare mention my fiancée’s name ever again—unless you want to die.”
Hannibal whispered those words low in Gray’s ear before finally releasing his collar.
“Now, stop interfering with our time together and leave. If you so much as open your mouth again and spread rumors, I will hold you fully accountable, Duke Gray Benton.”
With those cold words, Hannibal shoved Gray toward the door.
Staggering backward, Gray coughed violently, spitting saliva and tears as he desperately caught his breath.
Meanwhile, Hannibal walked back to Anne’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The couple, looking perfectly composed, gazed indifferently down at the man who had crumbled in humiliation.
Gray’s bloodshot eyes glared, his face still flushed as if all the blood in his body had rushed to it. Breathing harshly, he heard Hannibal’s quiet words:
“Do you need me to personally escort you out?”
Hannibal was being gentlemanly only because Anne was present. If Gray didn’t leave on his own, Hannibal was more than ready to physically drag him out.
Fortunately, Gray still had enough sense to wipe his tears and straighten his hunched body. His pride and dignity were already in tatters, far beyond repair, yet he shouted bravely:
“Anne Perot.”
There was no affection in his voice anymore. The crimson eyes glaring at her carried only hostility.
“You’ll regret this.”
Grinding his teeth, Gray spat the words, then turned his back on Anne. The door slammed open and shut with a bang, letting in a gust of cold night air.
Only after Gray’s blurred, retreating figure disappeared completely did Anne exhale deeply, not realizing until then that she had been holding her breath.
“Anne, are you all right?”
At that question, her tension finally melted away. Her body gave out, and she collapsed into a nearby chair.
“Yes… Thank you for coming with me.”
Anne forced a small smile.
“Shall I bring you some water?”
She quickly caught Hannibal’s hand before he could rush off.
“…”
He paused mid-step, turning back a little awkwardly.
She hadn’t felt embarrassed when they had deliberately clasped hands in front of Gray, but now, seeing Hannibal look nervous, Anne’s ears turned red.
“No… Just stay. Let’s rest here for a moment.”
“…All right.”
Hannibal sat opposite her, leaving their joined hands resting on the table.
He said nothing, simply waiting for her. Anne slowly inhaled and exhaled, steadying her thoughts.
What really counted as “for her sake”? What truly counted as “love”?
Seeing how far Gray was willing to go—even threatening—Anne felt once again relieved that she had confessed everything to Hannibal.
If she hadn’t, Gray would have torn her apart by clinging to their so-called past.
Regret?
She had been doing that long before her death.
It was laughable now, how she had once begged for affection from a man who only pitied her out of a scrap of conscience.
And how brazen of him, to say he still loved such a woman.
At least now, most things were settled. The only remaining concern was Hannibal, who had stood by her side.
Even if they dismissed Gray’s claims as delusions, he was still a duke. If he seriously chose to harass her, Anne’s reputation would be dragged through the mud instantly—along with Hannibal’s, as her fiancé.
“Hannibal.”
The man who, despite everything he had heard, had immediately decided to stand by her.
“Yes?”
His hand was so much larger and warmer than her own, completely enclosing it.
It was hard to even remember the days when he had been cold and distant; now they had melted into each other so naturally.
He had listened to her stories—stories most people would have scoffed at—with a serious heart. He hadn’t judged or dismissed her but had listened all the way through.
Hannibal Clayd had believed Anne Perot. With warmth and kindness, he had protected her from Gray.
That alone was more than enough. No, it was too much.
Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard before speaking with difficulty:
“When the duke returns, let’s annul the engagement.”
She couldn’t allow Hannibal to suffer any more because of her.
The lord of Teganess deserved a wife befitting his position.
Once peace negotiations with Luto ended, both the duke and Lady Missmighty would return to their respective homelands.
At most, they had ten days left.
Anne intended to return to her original place after that.
Back to being head maid of Teganess? If that allowed her to stay by Hannibal’s side in some way, that would be enough.
But to watch another woman stand at his side… that would hurt unbearably.
A bitter smile escaped her lips. She hadn’t let go of hope, yet she was too cowardly.
Better to leave. If she was out of sight, maybe she’d eventually be forgotten.
Perhaps, somewhere in the far future, she could live happily alone. The thought suddenly made her feel empty.
“Anne.”
The hand she had tried to withdraw was gently caught again—but not so tightly she couldn’t pull away if she truly wished.
Anne let him hold her, just for this moment.
“Please, speak.”
Suppressing her tangled emotions, she waited for his answer.
His gaze trembled faintly.
“…If you break off the engagement, what will you do?”
“…”
“Are you not afraid? You might have to face that duke alone.”
His genuine concern made Anne draw in a sharp breath.
“…But I can’t let you be dragged into this any further.”
The negotiations would end soon. The Benton Duke would no longer have a reason to stay.
With Hannibal by her side, she had already cut ties with Gray. It would be difficult for the duke to make any more bold moves in the west.
It was a calculated decision. Yet Hannibal still looked uneasy, even hurt—like he couldn’t understand why she refused to lean on him.
For a moment, her heart almost wavered. But Anne gently pulled her hand free.
Hannibal’s voice grew desperate:
“Anne, if it’s your wish, I’ll accept anything—even annulment. But…”
He caught her hand again, pulling it back into his grasp.
“That man won’t back down so easily. Anne, I’m worried for you.”
His honest feelings shook her heart.
Could she really stay as his fiancée, shameless as she was with her past?
Could she rely on his concern and protection to keep her place at his side forever?
Then Hannibal struck directly at her hidden thoughts:
“Don’t you want revenge on Gray Benton?”
For a second, the strength in his grip seemed to grow.
Revenge.
The word pierced her chest with a sharp ache.
“…No.”
Her lips said one thing, but her face betrayed another. Hannibal’s brows rose slightly.
“Not even once?”
“No. What revenge could a maid take on a duke…? Even if I did, it wouldn’t mean much.”
It sounded like an excuse, but it was the truth. Yet she couldn’t meet his eyes. She turned away, feeling the weight of his gaze burning her cheek.
“What if you could?”
“…What?”
“What if you became the lady of House Clayd—able to pressure him from all sides, to drag him down. Then what?”
“I’ve… never thought of such a thing.”
She had always been a maid. Even as a bastard child, she had never had any means to disgrace his house or name.
Yet Hannibal’s words made her heart tremble.
Back then, she had been bound hand and foot, unable even to dream of revenge.
Now, as a maid again, such thoughts had felt even more impossible.
But now—revenge was possible?
“Anne, to be honest… I don’t want to annul our engagement.”
It wasn’t unexpected. Considering the kindness he had shown her, there must have been some affection at the root of it.
Still, Anne trembled as if struck by lightning, her heart pounding wildly.
Who gets engaged and married just because they’re in love? Nobles didn’t. Especially not a lord like him.
Almost as if reading her mind, Hannibal spoke her worries aloud:
“Of course, living as the wife of a noble family would require great resolve from you. Even if I stand by your side, I cannot silence every tongue or block every gaze. The seat of a household’s lady carries even greater weight.”
His calm voice revealed the thoughts he had been carrying all along.
“Even so, I know it’s selfish. But Anne… I—”
He hesitated, wetting his lips before continuing with difficulty:
“…I revere you.”
The night air hushed everything around them, carrying his words clearly to her ears.
“Even if you’re no longer my fiancée, I cannot stand by and watch your name and honor be sullied by that duke.”
Who in this world could endure seeing the one they love defamed?
Just as Anne worried for his honor, Hannibal worried for hers.
“I cannot allow Gray Benton to drag you down.”
Grinding his teeth, he pleaded with deep affection:
“So please—use me. Use me for your revenge, if you must. At least stay by my side until your safety is assured.”
As he lowered his head, silver hair slipped forward, scattering in the moonlight. His downcast violet eyes shone with a pure brilliance.
Despite the desert sun, his pale face made those eyes stand out even more.
Suddenly, Anne’s vision was filled with Hannibal.
When had he grown so large in her heart? Looking back, it had become overwhelming before she even realized it.
She could no longer ignore his confession. No, she didn’t want to.
“…Hannibal, I like you too.”
Her feelings overflowed.
