Chapter 14
“Huh? Ah, then this way…”
Startled by Diashi’s sharp gaze, Arianne quickly stepped aside. Through the space she left, Diashi stepped into the room.
After more than a week, Ella’s room was filled with a thick, sweet scent of peaches.
Mixed within it was Ella’s own scent, piercing sharply into Diashi’s keen sense of smell.
It was a quantity unlike before, yet strangely familiar, as if he had smelled it somewhere before. His brow furrowed involuntarily.
He wanted to get out of this room, which was on the verge of dredging up terrible memories, as soon as possible.
I’ll just pass the time here a little and then leave.
With that decision, Diashi headed straight toward Ella’s bedroom.
Click.
Closing the door behind him, he approached the bed where Ella lay.
Her face, usually pale, was now completely drained of color—proof enough that her illness wasn’t a lie.
Seeing her lying weakly like a doll reminded him of their second meeting a week ago—
—On the very first day she arrived, standing alone in the garden, looking as if she might collapse at any moment.
That sight had displeased him so much he could hardly bear to look at it.
His gaze drifted to Ella’s neatly arranged golden hair. On that earlier night, under the moonlight, the pale color had made it appear almost silver.
Her sleeping face now was completely different from the child buried in his memories.
But when he saw her light blonde hair—silver in certain lights—beneath the night sky, he had been struck speechless, shaken by confusion.
Yes. It was that hair. That light blonde, sometimes silver, hair—reminding him of that child. That was why this woman irritated him so much.
For a moment, emotion flickered in the eyes of the man who usually carried none.
Almost without thinking, his hand rose, eyes fixed on her snow-white neck.
A fragile neck that looked as though, if he pressed down just slightly, it would bruise red—and perhaps even shatter entirely.
It would break in an instant. And then…
Would this unsettling, unpleasant feeling finally go away?
As he pictured the scene in his head, his fingertips grew damp with tension.
The windows were closed, yet he felt as if a harsh winter wind brushed his fingers.
Clenching his cold hand into a fist, Diashi lowered it and let out a self-mocking laugh.
“…Looks like I’m going mad too.”
Entertaining thoughts like these about someone who’s sick—
The woman before him, unaware of his imaginings, remained in a deep sleep.
Has she caught a cold?
Diashi hadn’t bothered to ask anyone what exactly was wrong with Ella. He didn’t see the need to know.
He couldn’t remember exactly what she had been wearing that day, but he recalled thinking her attire was irritating.
If you wear clothes like that in this weather, of course you’ll get sick.
Clicking his tongue briefly, he glanced around and spotted a chair by the bed—Arianne’s, from when she had been tending to Ella earlier.
Pulling it closer, he dropped into it.
Leaning back and crossing his legs, he tilted his head toward the black ceiling above, its darkness matching his mood.
…How long has it been?
After staring blankly upward for a while, he pulled a pocket watch from his coat. Less than ten minutes had passed since he entered Ella’s room. He irritably unfastened the buttons of his shirt.
He wanted to leave immediately.
But if he did, the effort of coming here against his will would have been wasted.
Feeling the beginnings of a headache, he pressed his temples firmly a few times, then folded his arms and closed his eyes, wishing the time would pass faster.
The last thing in his sight before they shut was the face of the woman currently irritating him the most.
Outside, the winter wind beat relentlessly against the window.
Knock, knock.
“….”
Who knew how long he had been like that? The sudden knock made him slowly open his eyes.
Neither Arianne nor the servants would dare interrupt him and Ella, so the only one it could be was his aide, Daniel.
Glancing instinctively at the time, he saw that more had passed than expected. Rising from his chair, he watched as the door opened with a click.
As he had guessed, Daniel stood there.
Since Diashi had said he was visiting Ella, there must have been something urgent for Daniel to come looking for him.
Has something happened in the territory?
But that thought vanished when he saw Daniel’s apologetic expression. Diashi understood why he had come.
“…His Holiness the Pope requests your immediate presence at the Grand Temple.”
Daniel’s voice showed clear signs of having struggled over how to deliver the message. Diashi’s eyes narrowed.
“At this hour?”
“Yes…”
“…Hah. Truly selfish.”
Diashi muttered a quiet curse. Watching him uneasily, Daniel asked carefully,
“Shall I say it’s difficult for you to come now?”
“No. I’d just hear more from him later. I’ll go alone—just get back to your work.”
“Yes, understood.”
After issuing the order, Diashi cast a dry glance toward the still-sleeping Ella.
He looked at her for only a brief moment before turning away and leaving without hesitation.
Daniel, too, nodded politely to Arianne—who had just woken up from dozing in the parlor—before following after him.
Once the room was quiet again, Ella slowly opened her eyes. She had not been asleep—not from the beginning.
She had only pretended, so as not to worry Arianne, who already fretted over her lack of appetite and sleep.
When Diashi came, she simply saw no reason to reveal she was awake or to engage in conversation.
Careful not to alert Arianne outside, she slowly sat up against the headboard.
Her face was visibly tired, and her uneven breathing marked her as still unwell.
After glancing out the window, she drew her knees to her chest and buried her face between them.
“…What did I just hear?”
She recalled the conversation she had just overheard between Diashi and what seemed to be his aide.
‘…requests your immediate presence at the Grand Temple.’
‘At this hour?’
‘Yes…’
‘…Hah. Truly selfish.’
Though she hadn’t caught the exact subject—due to the distance—context and the mention of the “Grand Temple” made it obvious: the one summoning him was the Pope.
The only person with authority higher than Duke Diashi who could summon him there was His Holiness himself.
“It seems His Holiness holds some deep leverage over Duke Myers. Or perhaps it’s just loyalty to the one who elevated his once-irrelevant family to a ducal house.”
She had heard this from Lillia before coming here, though at the time she’d found it hard to believe.
Ella had sensed Diashi’s dislike for her more than once—
—from the very first meeting, when he had told her outright not to expect “any kind of affection.”
Could Lillia be right that the Pope held something over him?
No… I’m almost certain of it.
Framing it that way, the earlier scene made perfect sense.
He clearly resented being summoned, yet in the end, he obeyed.
Which meant that no matter how much he disliked it, deep down, Diashi knew he ultimately had to follow the Pope’s orders—whether due to blackmail or some other reason.
Lifting her head, Ella’s rare smile shone even brighter in the soft moonlight.
There really is a crack between the Pope and Diashi.
She had suspected it, but confirmation brought a thrill she couldn’t quite put into words.
I was right.
Discord between enemies was nothing but an opportunity for her.
It didn’t matter what hold the Pope had over Diashi—
As long as their relationship could be driven further apart until they both fell…
Her mind was set solely on how to use this hard-won chance for her revenge.
No matter the Pope’s command, Diashi must obey. They’re still on the same side. But…
Diashi resents him. And the Pope doesn’t trust Diashi. That’s why he placed me at his side under the pretext of marriage.
A faint, humorless chuckle slipped from her lips.
He probably just hates being dragged around because the Pope has something on him.
Still, he wouldn’t dare betray the one who had made his family dukes. The question was—how best to exploit this?
Without bothering to hide her amusement, an idea suddenly sparked in her mind.
Yes. Maybe… I really could use it that way.
Since falling ill, Ella had suffered an unshakable thirst—no matter how much water she drank, her mouth felt parched. But now, for some reason, that thirst was gone.
In its place, a deep, satisfying sense of fulfillment wrapped around her.
The sound of the winter wind battering the window grew louder.
It was the kind of stormy weather that made you feel something was about to happen.
