CHAPTER 43: I Can No Longer Tell
“He’s your fiancé. The one your parents chose for you without asking.”
At Dietrich’s whispered words, Celia’s eyes widened.
She grabbed the hem of his coat, trying to keep him from pulling away, and desperately denied what he had just said.
“That can’t be true!”
“…”
“You’re saying you are my fiancé? I’ve never even heard about having a fiancé until right before my kingdom fell!”
It seemed like Dietrich had only intended to tell her this once. He silently looked down at Celia.
His gaze held not pity, but something closer to familiarity—
as if he was saying, “You and I are the same.”
“You’re just trying to shake me, aren’t you?”
“What would change if I shook you now?”
She had to admit he had a point.
There was no reason for him to lie in a situation like this.
But the very idea that Dietrich was her fiancé was a huge shock to Celia.
That was the difference between them.
Dietrich knew a lot about Celia. Celia knew almost nothing about Dietrich.
He knew what she didn’t.
So who really had control in this situation?
As if he understood her confusion completely, Dietrich spoke to her gently:
“You don’t need to worry. Just because you were once my fiancée doesn’t mean anything about our relationship has to change.”
“….”
“You’re the master. I’m your dog. That’s enough.”
Dietrich met her eyes.
Celia glared coldly back.
Then her voice came out, as frigid as ice:
“Are there dogs in this world that kiss their masters?”
Celia had decided she wouldn’t pretend anymore.
Now that Dietrich knew her identity, there was no point in hiding—it would only make her look foolish.
Dietrich, now back to his usual expressionless face, calmly looked her up and down and said:
“You were the one who kissed me, Celia.”
“And you were the one who didn’t let go even when I tried to pull away, Dietrich.”
His brow instantly furrowed.
She had to admit—this displeased, annoyed look suited him more than his smile.
It made Celia feel a bit better.
“Explain the Three Dukes. Convince me why they’re my real enemies.”
Dietrich stared at her quietly.
“You were a puppet of the viscount’s family. But you were in the palace—you must know a lot more.”
At her words, his face darkened.
It was as if his expression was asking, What do you know of my pain?
“I’m really glad we didn’t get engaged.”
“That’s rich coming from you. Just get to the point.”
Though he seemed displeased, Dietrich moved on.
“Do you know that Avalon worships a snake as their god?”
“No.”
“Every year, in a temple ceremony, people are offered to the snake as sacrifices. Alive or dead—it doesn’t matter. In exchange, they receive a prophecy.”
“A prophecy?”
“Yes. A literal prophecy. I don’t know if it’s from a god or a demon, but Illeon seems to believe in it fanatically. He’s even grown his hair out and wears only white clothes every day.”
What could prophecies have to do with the fall of her kingdom?
As if he read her mind, Dietrich added:
“Ten years ago, Illeon heard a ‘prophecy.’ Then, along with the other two dukes, he manipulated the emperor into launching a war. That war destroyed both your kingdom and mine.”
“…What did the prophecy say?”
“That part I don’t know. Even learning this much was hard.”
His eyes held not even a trace of deceit.
Celia didn’t fully trust Dietrich—but she could trust the words he was speaking right now.
She didn’t know what had changed in him to make him reveal this information, but it wasn’t a bad thing for her.
Sure, she was shocked that her supposed fiancé turned out to be Dietrich, but there had never been any sign or proof of it, so it didn’t truly sink in.
In the end, she had gained a lot and lost nothing.
As soon as she realized who the true enemy was, the crushing weight on her chest lifted.
It’s comforting, she thought, to have someone you can rely on.
“…Thanks for telling me.”
Celia smiled gently as she thanked him.
Dietrich frowned, clearly displeased by her sudden shift in tone.
“Pick one. Cold or warm.”
“This is who I am.”
Her confidence made Dietrich let out a small laugh.
“You’re such an unpredictable master.”
“Funny how you call me that only when it’s convenient.”
“If I start saying it too much, I might actually start to believe it.”
His sudden words caught her completely off guard, and Celia scowled in frustration.
She quickly changed the subject.
“Anyway, that snake-like Illeon’s already framed us. We’ll be attacked before we can even make a move.”
“It’s fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
To you?
Celia didn’t like the way he said that, as if she were cargo to protect.
“Use me, then. Use my ability.”
“….”
Dietrich said nothing.
Instead, he looked down at her with an indescribable gaze.
“Go on. Use me.”
“But using your power damages your body.”
Celia’s face contorted in surprise—she hadn’t expected that answer at all.
“Celia, no dog in the world uses its master as a shield.”
“….”
“Get some sleep. You must be tired.”
Celia was grateful for his attempt to shoulder everything alone—but also annoyed.
Why walk the hard path when there’s an easier one?
Using her power didn’t kill her. Even earlier, when she used it briefly, she only felt a bit nauseous—no blood, no collapse like before.
“I’ll just use it if I have to.”
That’s what she told herself, and suggested again:
“How about you sleep instead?”
“I barely sleep.”
Celia found it strange—was he even human?
When she lived at the viscount’s estate, she also rarely slept, thanks to the Brillion men who came into her room every night.
But Dietrich seemed to sleep even less than she had back then.
No wonder the shadows under his eyes never left.
She asked him again:
“I’m going to sleep now. You should at least close your eyes. Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m used to it. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. Watching you makes me anxious.”
Dietrich looked conflicted.
So Celia put her foot down.
“If you don’t sleep, neither will I.”
Dietrich let out a sigh and finally relented.
“Fine.”
He gently scooped her up into his arms.
Celia’s eyes widened in shock.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the bed. This room doesn’t have one.”
“I can walk on my own.”
She squirmed in protest, but Dietrich silently carried her until he found a room with a bed.
Once there, Celia gave up resisting—his firm chest was too warm and steady.
Dietrich frowned slightly, bothered by how feather-light she felt in his arms.
After laying her on the large bed, he pulled the white blanket up to her neck.
Then he lay down on the cold hard floor and closed his eyes.
Celia looked down at him, confused.
Dietrich, sensing her gaze, opened one eye.
“Someone could break into the mansion. I’m sleeping here for safety. I know you won’t like sharing a room, but bear with it for a night.”
“No, that’s not it…”
This was his mansion. Why was he sleeping on the floor?
Celia wasn’t that shameless.
She looked down at the cold floor and shook her head.
“The floor’s cold. And the bed’s huge. Just sleep up here with me.”
Dietrich’s eyes widened.
Celia, on the other hand, looked completely sincere. Her eyes sparkled like a child who believed the world was all sunshine and flowers.
Dietrich felt incredibly uncomfortable sharing a bed with her.
After all, they had kissed.
Even though he pretended otherwise, he remembered it vividly—the heat of her breath, her dazed face, her saliva-glossed lips.
Everything about it was… intense.
It bothered him that her warmth felt so natural to him now.
At this rate, if she told him to get on all fours, he might actually do it.
“How did it come to this?”
No matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t find an answer.
He had planned to eliminate her quietly if she ever found out about his powers.
And yet here he was, holding her hand, offering her peace of mind.
It was clear now—
He was already the dog. And she was the master.
The only one who didn’t know it yet… was the master herself.
Dietrich swallowed down the curses rising in his throat.
He had to be losing his mind.
Telling her everything, overanalyzing her every word and gesture…
It was all because they had grown too close.
He turned his back to her and closed his eyes.
Then he heard the rustle of the sheets, and her voice as she shook him awake:
“You really do look cold. Come on, let’s sleep together.”
Was it his body that trembled?
Or his heart?
Dietrich could no longer tell.
