Misfortune 119

Chapter 119

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The horse's hot breath spread like mist around its muzzle as it pawed the ground.

Roan, who had calmed the excited horse by stroking its mane, slowly looked around.

It was the kind of weather where a sudden downpour wouldn't have been surprising. Not a single sliver of light could be found in the sky, shrouded in gray clouds, and the sound of bare tree branches wailing in the winter wind echoed eerily.

His gaze, which had been slowly sweeping over that bleak landscape, soon fixed on the castle, now drenched in morning dew and tinged with an even duller hue.

"..."

His gaze, difficult to define as belonging to an invader surveying the ruins he had trampled or to one facing a troublesome burden forcibly thrust upon him by the emperor, slowly traced its way up from the outer walls of the castle.

The sharply pointed spires were as piercing as spears and swords, indiscriminate of friend or foe, while the shadows cast beneath the walls settled like heavy sighs.

The gloomy silence enveloping the vast fortress could not simply be dismissed as a result of the weather.

Devoid of any trace of the vitality living people produced, the ashen fortress resembled a colossal tomb.

“Why Belfort?”

Cuern's puzzled voice, which had never received an answer, suddenly flashed through his mind.

"Yeah. Why indeed."

The self-deprecating mutter dissolved into the air along with a wisp of breath.

He didn't know himself. Why he stood here now, out of place, instead of Delnia. What on earth had driven him to rush here despite knowing it wasn't the right situation.

He just felt he had to come. So he came.

'I thought coming here would make it clear.'

In the empty castle, staffed only by the bare minimum of caretakers, he found nothing—not even a clue. It felt like seeking answers here was nothing short of wishing for an impossible miracle.

He stood there, staring blankly at Belfort Castle like a lost child.

"………………Roan?"

A tone laced with disbelief and doubt called out to Roan.

Without a flicker of emotion, he turned his expressionless face toward the sound. There, clearly within his sight, was a wrinkled face, frozen in shock despite having guessed correctly.

"Why are you here………………?"

The middle-aged woman who had once looked down on him disapprovingly from the woman's closest proximity.

It was Sophie.

***

The place he arrived at following Sophie was an old mansion located on the outskirts of Belfort.

The mansion, seemingly inhabited only by her, was old and modest yet well-maintained.

Particularly striking was how, despite the mansion's size, every piece of furniture and decoration was of the highest quality. It also felt strangely familiar somehow.

"Here."

Sophie tossed a water cup down in front of Roan before plopping down across from him.

He stared silently at the wooden cup.

Its surface was so rough it felt like it would prick him if he touched it—as if it had never been sanded. Even worse, the cold water inside held floating ice crystals. It was astonishing that such a relic existed in this elegant mansion.

Of course, despite the blatant cold shoulder, Roan's expression didn't waver. He'd never expected a warm welcome anyway.

“I only came to see my own castle.”

Roan answered Sophie's question, which she'd blurted out the moment they met, cleanly. He hadn't meant to mock her, but Sophie flushed and tried to leave immediately.

“Wait.”

It was Roan who urgently grabbed Sophie as she turned to leave.

He lifted his head again to face her. Her familiar, sullen expression, thick with contempt, greeted him.

"So, what exactly is this favor you want?"

Her cold voice pressed him. She made no effort to hide her desire to cut the conversation short.

Roan certainly didn't relish being alone with a woman who always looked down on him like that.

But Sophie might be able to resolve the predicament he'd stumbled into.

"………………I want her to stay at Belfort Castle, but she refuses to listen to me."

"What?"

"Blois is a dangerous area, always at risk of being swept up in war. So I'd like you to persuade her for me."

He couldn't say anything to her now. That was how it had become.

But even so, he couldn't help but think of her safety.

Even though she would hate him now, he couldn't help but wish for her safety.

Still, it was a request based on the utterly common-sense judgment that she might listen if it came from her nanny.

Yet, for some reason, Sophie's expression turned cold and distant upon hearing his request. It was a stark contrast to his expectation that she would welcome it with open arms.

It was in that instant that Roan's eyebrow lifted slightly, sensing something amiss.

"I suppose you didn't know. I'm no longer involved with Miss Delnia."

"………………No relationship?"

Roan repeated Sophie's words verbatim, his voice rising in disbelief.

Regardless, Sophie affirmed it matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Our bond is severed now. Just as Eperne vanished when Lady Marian passed. At least for me."

This time, Roan's expression crumpled mercilessly.

That was truly a strange thing to say.

Even if Marian was dead, her only child, Delnia, was very much alive. How could Eperne be gone?

It might be understandable coming from someone like him, who had hated Eperne his entire life, but surely not from Sophie, who had devoted her life to serving them.

“Of course, Lady Delnia, Lady Marian's bloodline, is still here."

As if reading his confusion, Sophie calmly added.

"But half the blood flowing through her veins is also that damned Ark's."

"That Ark...?"

"Evan Ark."

Evan Ark—the name of the Count of Eperne before he married Marian. It was also the name of the noble house in Eperne, the homeland where Roan was born.

Seeing Sophie casually disparage the Count of Eperne and even refer to him by his pre-marriage surname, Roan felt a wave of unease wash over him.

Of course, Evan was indeed Eperne’s enemy. He had provided the decisive cause that brought down the family.

But her voice carried a dark, long-held resentment that couldn’t be explained by that alone.

“Why? Did you think you were the only one who resented that bastard?”

Sophie let out a derisive laugh, as if finding Roan's frozen expression utterly ridiculous.

"You might not want to believe it, but we are the true victims of that devilish bastard."

"True victims? The Eperne family?"

Roan retorted with a bitter, hollow laugh. For someone who lost both parents to Evan Eperne, there was no greater insult.

But Sophie continued calmly, seemingly untouched by his fury.

"But that's exactly it. Just because he couldn't forget some first love, he turned our lives into a wasteland—us, who had done nothing wrong."

First love.

The word, utterly incongruous with the deadly seriousness of their conversation thus far, momentarily silenced Roan. Sophie tilted her chin slightly and smiled haughtily.

"Yes. Your mother. Chloe, was it?"

"My mother, what the hell………………”

Roan couldn't hide his bewilderment at the name suddenly dragged into the conversation. Regardless, Sophie shrugged indifferently.

"Well, it's a common story. The love affair between a poor nobleman's son and a lowly maid. Even the part where they split up due to family opposition sounds quite plausible."

"...."

"Still, your mother was fairly wise. She snapped out of that foolish love nonsense and quickly started a family. The problem was that fool who couldn't get his act together, even after being sold as a son-in-law."

His mind went blank for a moment at this past history of his parents, something he'd never even imagined in his dreams. Amidst that, a desperate plea he'd heard long ago, but had long forgotten, flashed through his mind.

“I beg you, Evan. Please, just the children…………”

“If you wanted to make that request, you shouldn't have abandoned me in the first place, Chloe.”

He vaguely suspected there was a story he didn't know. But he never imagined it was that kind of relationship…

Roan unconsciously clenched his fist. Of course, Sophie paid him no mind.

"Then, as soon as the late Count Eperne passed away, he bolted like a colt with fire on its tail. His intentions were obvious. He was probably dreaming of taking your mother as his mistress."

Roan clenched his jaw so hard his molars nearly shattered. He couldn't tell if it was disgust for the Count of Eperne or something else entirely.

"But thankfully, your mother stabbed him in the back. She wasn't waiting for that bastard—she was already married and had children by then."

"...."

"Ah, how frustrated he must have been learning that. Just imagining it was utterly satisfying."

Even now, a cruel smile flitted across Sophie's lips as if the memory still felt satisfyingly cathartic.

But it was fleeting. The smile vanished instantly, leaving her face cold enough to send shivers down one's spine.

"But back then, I didn't realize. That a single wound from being abandoned by his first love would make him crawl around for the rest of his life, ruining his own family in the process..."

Sophie sighed, as if the thought still left her speechless.

Then, suddenly noticing Roan standing there dumbstruck, unable to utter a word, she burst into laughter.

"Why on earth are you making that face?"