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Misfortune 100




Chapter 100

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"But that person was Count Eperne's man, right? That's strange. As far as I remember, he mostly hung out with Aunt Sophie..."


Lena, who had been muttering to herself, noticed Roan's stiff expression and immediately stopped talking.


"Well, I guess that's not important right now. ……………."


Lena was right. Such trivial matters didn't matter anymore. Not now, at least.


The only thing that mattered then and now was one thing.


That Delnia didn't lie.


And that Roan had never believed her.


He already knew all too well what the consequences of trampling on her innocence would be.


***


"There's a lodging near the port where the merchants are staying. We've rented it long-term because we plan to establish the Brunois branch of the Golden Wheel in Blois. Here's the address, so please contact me as soon as the young lady wakes up."


Even after Lena left, leaving those instructions behind, Roan remained motionless for a while. He just stared blankly at the empty seat across from him.


Then he closed his eyes tightly. The darkness beyond his eyelids flickered.


His beloved younger sister had returned to life. It was clearly a miracle that would never happen again.


Why couldn't he shake the thought that he wished it were all just a dream?


Why was he still struggling to escape from the quagmire of despair?


He even longed for the days when he drifted alone across the vast ocean.


If only he could go back to those days, he would forget everything—his family’s enemies, that woman, everything...


Despite such absurd fantasies, his body, trained through discipline, was already moving in a regular rhythm.


Then, at some point, the feet that had been marching in perfect unison came to a sudden halt.


"Hah…"


Roan, finally coming to his senses, let out a bitter laugh at the scene before him.


The pale winter sunlight filtering through the window softly illuminated the woman lying on the bed.


"How could I have forgotten something like this?"


Despite mocking himself without hesitation, Roan closed the distance as if surrendering.


With each step forward, his legs grew heavier, as if he were walking into a sticky swamp.


Yet he could not stop his steps toward her.


Struggling through the mud, he finally arrived before the woman, who floated alone like a deserted island.


“….”


She still had a serene expression, as if she were detached from all the chaos of the world. As if she belonged to a world that was forever beyond his reach, standing in the mud he was wading through.


"Get out."


Roan, who had been silently staring at her, issued the command in a low voice, his gaze fixed on her.


The servant who had been taking turns watching over Delnia hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure if it was okay to leave Roan and Delnia alone.


But she soon rose to her feet. After all, since Delnia had become like this, Roan hadn't been able to lay a finger on her.


"I'll wait outside the door."


The servant, who had hinted that she would enter at any moment if necessary, finally left the room.


The space, now left with just the two of them, quickly fell into a silence that resembled death.


As always, Roan couldn't take his eyes off her. It was then that he noticed a strand of hair dancing on her forehead.


Despite the absence of any breeze, the thin strand of hair tickled her eyelid.


He reached out his hand without thinking. But his large hand fell limply to the ground before it could touch her. As if a transparent glass tube were surrounding her.


For some reason, he couldn't bear the thought of his hand touching her.


He couldn't allow it.


Like the flutter of a butterfly's wings that triggers a typhoon, the trivial emotions he had been ignoring all along surged like a massive tidal wave, engulfing him in an instant.


Trying to hold onto his sanity, Roan roughly rubbed his face with his hands. But it was of no use.


Something hot, something he couldn’t spit out or swallow, seemed to be choking him. The heat spread throughout his body, making his head feel hot.


He found himself gasping for breath. It took him quite some time to steady his breathing.


But what was most despairing was that even as he struggled alone, the woman remained silent.


No matter how much he struggled, it felt as though he would never reach her.


Her expression, devoid of any sorrow, was so cold and indifferent.


“................You were right.”


This was the first time he had spoken to her since it had come to this. In a voice cracked with emotion, he admitted his defeat.


He could no longer turn away.


He was wrong. This woman was right.


She had never lied to him.


“Lena was alive.”


“…


"You, who tried so hard to save my sister..."


Like a prisoner cornered, he had been confessing, but suddenly stopped speaking.


The justification he had clung to like a weapon was never valid to begin with. The calculations of revenge he had demanded from her were fundamentally flawed from the start.


She had not killed his family.


Delnia had never been a criminal to him.


To her, he was…


“….”


The breath he had carefully composed quickly fell into disarray again.


In truth, he had always wanted to trust this woman. There were many moments when he simply wanted to listen to her without considering her intentions.


Yet he had struggled desperately not to be deceived, vowing never to repeat the same mistake again.


Because the pain of the past was too raw. Because the mistake he had firmly believed was betrayal was still eating away at him.


But he should have chosen to endure the pain.


It would have been better for him to be struck down again than to see the woman lying there like that.


Even if it meant getting hurt again, he should have trusted her.


He should have listened to her words as his heart dictated. He should have cherished her, even if it meant being betrayed.


In truth, he always wanted to do that.


Thinking that the result of stubbornly resisting his feelings was just this made him want to bite his tongue.


“You should have just played with me.”


If this was how it was going to be, she should have just mocked him.


She should have mocked him for wavering over a few words. She should have betrayed such an easy target without a second thought and lived on just fine.


He should have done that instead…


Even in this moment, the thought of clinging to her made him feel so disgusted that he wanted to vomit.


If he felt that way, how much more must she have resented him?


Every moment spent with him must have been a source of frustration. She had been pushed to the edge of a cliff and eventually threw herself off.


No, it wasn't that she fell. He pushed her.


He had lost the confidence and the face to look at her peaceful face anymore, and he bowed his head.


However, his gaze couldn't go far and stopped abruptly at her fragile wrist wrapped in bandages.


His blue eyes began to tremble violently once more.


They said the weapon she used to harm herself was a pair of scissors for cutting yarn. With that insignificant blade, she had ruthlessly slashed her own wrist.


Why?


He still couldn't understand at all.


Why had that ridiculous blade been aimed at her instead of him?


This woman should have harmed him, not herself. She should have stabbed him, beaten him, and inflicted wounds on him.


If she hated him, if she truly resented him, wasn’t that the right thing to do?


“Don’t you even hate me, who’s perfectly fine?”


“….”


“Don’t you want to take revenge on me?”


He muttered gloomily, as if it were only natural. But the heartless woman still gave him no response.


Nevertheless, Roan couldn’t control his outburst.


“So get up quickly. Get up and slap my face.”


“…


“Even if it’s not that, I’ll accept anything you want as revenge.”


Even if the woman, who had finally awakened, cursed him, it didn't matter. Even if she swung a real knife that couldn't be compared to a pair of scissors, or pressed the barrel of a gun to his forehead, it would be okay.


Anything was better than watching her with her eyes closed.


Anyway, he could no longer take revenge on her. No, he couldn’t do anything at all.


The world he had always stood on had been overturned. The hatred he had believed would steadfastly support him was crumbling from the ground up.


There was no going back to the way things were.


Never again.


“So……………….”


Unable to continue speaking, he buried his face in the corner of the bed. He made sure not a single strand of his hair touched her, so as not to cause her the slightest discomfort.


Thus, he never saw the slender fingers twitching in response to his words.



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