Misfortune 118

Chapter 118

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***

Her lips, which had been babbling on and on in short questions, clamped shut. In the awkward silence that followed, their gazes locked.

Only then did Roan realize. That the look on her face, which showed no sign of joy, wasn't simply due to surprise.

"Why go that far?" 

Honestly, Delnia had felt uneasy from the moment Roan had suddenly appeared and started spouting absurdities.

But now he was offering to hand over Belfort Castle? Belfort Castle was a gift bestowed by the Emperor himself upon Colonel Barthez.

To think he would freely give it to a mere slave—how could such a thing be possible? No, the strangeness wasn't limited to this incident alone. Truthfully, Delnia couldn't make sense of any of Roan's persistent eccentricities.

The way he kept burdening her with all manner of gifts. His inability to stop visiting her, even knowing she ignored him. That absurd order to plant trees in the garden visible from her window, of all places, in this bitter winter. 

Yet when she finally asked him to let her go, he refused without hesitation, as if her request were an abomination. How was she supposed to make sense of a man who acted like he'd do anything for her—except that one thing?

"That..." 

Overwhelmed by confusion, Roan trailed off. He clearly hadn't expected to be pressed like this.

"You know."

After waiting a moment for his reply, Delnia cut him off, seemingly unable to bear it any longer.

"What I did in the past."

"......." 

"I ran away back then. I... betrayed you... my master."

Watching her struggle to correct her words, he couldn't understand why his throat felt like he'd swallowed a needle.

"The fact that Lena came back alive doesn't change that, does it?"

"….."

"Knowing all this, why…………………"

Faced with the woman confessing her guilt, as if pleading or urging him to come to his senses, Roan couldn't even open his mouth.

He knew it too. That everything she said was true.

No matter what excuses could be made, the undeniable fact remained: she had abandoned him and fled back then. The past where he had writhed in betrayal, the days where only revenge kept him alive—those couldn't be erased.

So what had changed? Not their past, not the irreversible mistake, not even the woman he had bound to atonement.

It was him.

His heart...

"Don't tell me... you love me?"

In that instant, a voice twisted with mockery froze Roan's world.

His mind went completely blank, and his entire body froze stiff as if his blood had turned to ice. He couldn't even recognize what thoughts had occupied his mind moments before, or what expression he now wore.

But Delnia wasn't fooled.

She saw everything. The man's expression, frozen stiff as if her words were a bolt from the blue, unable even to breathe.

As if some shameful secret, hidden from everyone, had been exposed, she even felt a hint of disappointment…

"Say no."

Her cold voice sliced sharply through the air.

It was a deliberately provocative statement. She chose the most absurd words she could think of, hoping he would realize how bizarre his behavior appeared.

And she expected that such a statement would naturally provoke a denial. She expected him to rebuke her, to scoff at the nonsense.

Oh dear, instead of making that ridiculous expression or something...

"No, it's not. There's no way that could be true..."

Her voice, pressing him again, trembled so badly it cracked pitifully.

But he still wasn't giving her the answer she wanted.

For some reason, she couldn't bear it any longer.

Delnia, standing by the window, began to move. Toward the man, trapped like an animal in a snare, unable to move an inch.

As the distance closed, his face grew clearer. His pallid complexion, like someone being strangled, now squeezed the life out of her.

Not long ago, when she'd mistakenly thought he'd vanished, that man had worn the same face.

A weary face caked with inescapable despair like mud.

As if he had lost his beloved forever……………….

"Say it's not true!"

Suddenly, Delnia screamed as if possessed. There was no time for formalities. The force of her shout made her body tremble violently from the recoil.

Yet when his lips showed no sign of parting, she raised her fist and began striking him indiscriminately.

Even if it was a feeble force that wouldn't even tickle him, she simply couldn't stand still. She couldn't bear it.

But wasn't that the point?

How had she endured all this time? Why had she tried to endure this cruel man?

"You said you hated me."

That he was especially cruel to her because she deserved it.

That he would never forgive her, as much as she deserved blame.

"But how could you………………"

When she thought it was hatred, it was bearable. When she thought it was resentment, she could endure it.

She thought enduring all that hatred was her atonement. No matter how painful it was, if she thought it was deserved, she could bear it.

But now, love?

That was love?

"That can't be. It can't be love…”

"..."

"If that's love, it shouldn't be!"

After being so cruel. After making her wither away. After that still wasn't enough and he finally destroyed her.

How could that possibly be love?

"Why, why on earth………………!"

The man who hated her, she could endure. But this man, this man who wasn't hatred, she simply couldn't bear.

She could no longer bear to look at the man who dared call it love.

"Say it's not! Say it's not………………!"

The emotions she'd suppressed all along erupted uncontrollably. It felt like her blood was flowing backwards.

She pounded the man, who stood like a stone wall, as if in a death throe. Her neck, her hands, her whole body felt like it would burst. No, perhaps she wanted to burst apart herself.

But no matter how much she screamed and raged, the heartless man never gave her the answer she craved.

***

"What?"

Admiral Cuern's brow, which had been pleasantly fixed on Roan, suddenly crumpled.

"To abandon your post in such critical times? Are you out of your mind?"

His voice, usually excessively affectionate, was now bristling with thorns.

But Roan's expression didn't flicker. His straight, tightly pressed lips remained unchanged.

"Ha."

Seeing the man who wouldn't budge an inch, Cuern let out a hollow laugh, as if utterly flabbergasted.

He began to doubt whether the Roan Barthez standing before him was truly the rigid stickler for principles he once knew.

"So, the reason? Where exactly is this place you absolutely must go in this situation?"

"Belfort."

This time, the answer came immediately, as if he'd been waiting for it. Regardless, Cuern's expression twisted into an even stranger grimace.

"Why Belfort?"

Silence fell again.

But Cuern didn't press further. It seemed not that he wouldn't answer, but that he couldn't.

Had he evaded the question or dismissed it as unnecessary, Cuern would have been furious.

'So the rumors about him being weird aren't unfounded after all.'