The Misfortune Of Loving You · 02. November 2025

Misfortune 127

Chapter 127

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"So you've crawled your way here after all."

Admiral Lasser swept Roan with a displeased gaze.

Facing an Admiral who openly snubbed him rather than welcoming him, Roan didn't change his expression in the slightest.

The Admiral would normally have been satisfied with that stoic demeanor, which never revealed emotion. Now, however, it was simply infuriating.

"You stir up the entire empire, and then get demoted to Orbon. It makes me wonder if you deliberately caused the commotion."

Admiral Lasser clicked his tongue, his eyes flashing sharply like a veteran facing a spy.

It was an absurd suspicion, but Roan offered not a single word of defense. Just as the Admiral had once taught him.

Instead, he bowed deeply toward the Admiral.

"I apologize for disappointing you."

This apology wasn't confined to this single incident.

He had broken the very conviction he had intended to guide his entire life. He had betrayed the Admiral's teachings.

He knew Admiral Lasser cherished him like a successor. He had wanted to live up to those expectations as much as possible.

But now, he could no longer do so. Roan's apology was precisely for that.

"I will accept any punishment you deem fit."

Roan spoke humbly. He seemed prepared to obey any unreasonable order without complaint.

The Admiral did not press further. Instead, a heavy sigh filled the silent room, settling like a weight upon Roan's shoulders.

Even if he could go back, his choice would remain the same. Roan did not regret his decision.

But precisely because of that—because ultimately, the only path left was to disappoint the mentor who had watched over him his entire life—his heart could not help but feel infinitely heavy.

He intended to accept whatever treatment the Admiral meted out to him from now on. After all, he was the one who had betrayed the trust first.

"You wretched fool."

Yet, as if to mock Roan's resolve, the Admiral could only click his tongue again.

"That's why I say you still have a long way to go."

The Admiral's expression, as he scolded him with a snort, remained as stern as ever.

But Roan noticed his face had softened slightly compared to moments before. It was a difference only someone who had served him for so long could detect.

"Do you think any parent could abandon their child just because their thoughts diverge from their own?"

The voice that asked this was stern yet tender. Like that of a real, blood-related father.

Faced with this unshakable, steadfast belief, Roan's previously hardened eyes softened and wavered. It wasn't simply because he was moved.

It was because he knew he would soon betray even that faith himself.

'Surely not... death?'

That was also why the 'proposal' he could casually bring up to the Commander-in-Chief was so difficult to voice to the Admiral.

Coming this far, Roan had resolved only two things.

Victory. And death.

Offering victory to the lord he swore allegiance to was only right. For that victory would also bring peace to Brunois, the land where Delnia would live.

And the latter was the absolute prerequisite that must come first for that very peace.

His resolve had solidified long ago. He would never change his mind.

But...

"………………I'm truly sorry."

In the end, Roan couldn't bring himself to utter the words welling up inside him, only repeating apologies. He hung his head guiltily, unable to meet the Admiral's gaze.

***

The day after that coldest night of winter, when Roan had come seeking her without warning. Delnia received news that he had departed for Orbon.

And a few days later, just as he had said, Milan came to see Delnia.

"Following the Colonel's orders, your slave documents have been destroyed."

While Milan rattled off all the complicated procedures and explanations, Delnia sat across from him, her face blank.

No matter how hard she tried to listen, she simply couldn't focus. Perhaps she had been in this state ever since the night Roan had come.

"And this is what the Colonel left for you."

Leaving her as she was, Milan, who had been diligently carrying out only the tasks assigned to him, pulled out a new document.

"You are no longer the Colonel's responsibility. You'll face difficulties navigating things on your own from now on. Think of this as a token of sympathy for that."

Delnia examined the paper he handed her, still wearing a dazed expression, unsure if this was a dream or reality.

It was a promissory note handled by the money changers in Blois. Delnia's eyes widened like a rabbit's when she saw the amount stamped with the seal of Roan Barthez.

Five thousand crowns. It was a colossal sum, approaching the annual budget of a noble family owning a vast estate. An amount most commoners would never touch in a lifetime.

"I can't accept this."

Delnia waved her hands, signaling her refusal.

Just a short while ago, she had been agonizing over finding a village to settle in with the money she had. This sum, rendering all that time meaningless overnight, left her mind reeling.

"That's not my concern."

But Milan didn't even snort in disdain, rejecting her refusal outright.

"If you insist on refusing, I'll have no choice but to send a messenger to report this to the Colonel on the front lines. How could I burden someone who's constantly facing death with such a trivial matter?"

"But………………."

The amount involved was hardly trivial to dismiss as minor. Yet Milan persisted in his persuasion without ever mentioning that aspect.

"Besides, this is a matter the Colonel entrusted entirely to me. He showed me his trust. If I fail to persuade you, my position will become quite awkward."

Milan even bluntly stated his own position. It was a cowardly but effective tactic. Delnia could no longer rashly voice refusal.

"If you truly can't accept it, return it to him personally after the Colonel returns."

Watching Delnia flustered, her lips trembling, Milan drove the final nail in without hesitation.

'Best not to mention that the Colonel revised his will before going into battle.'

If this woman, who jumped at the slightest thing, found out, she might faint. He'd return safely anyway.

True to his role as a loyal butler, Milan firmly believed in his master's survival. There was no need to mention a will that would never be made public.

"And next is……………."

Before another protest could arise, Milan preempted her and quickly continued the remaining explanation.

Fortunately, the woman, who had seemed half-absent even before his visit, followed him without adding anything further.

"With this, you too are a free citizen. Congratulations."

Having swiftly delivered the news, Milan rose and offered her his hand.

Startled, Delnia rose and awkwardly grasped the offered hand. Staring blankly at the hand shaking up and down, she suddenly felt dizzy.

Was it because her sole life goal had been achieved so easily it felt hollow? Despite it being the moment she'd so desperately longed for, rather than feeling joyful, she felt completely drained.

"So, where do you plan to go now?"

"Huh?"

Her mind still foggy, she didn't fully register Milan's question and asked him to repeat it.

"Margaret mentioned you're planning to leave Blois soon. She said you're carefully considering where to settle next."

"...."

Delnia only let out a small sigh. The words wouldn't come easily.

It wasn't that she couldn't answer yet. She and Margaret had already narrowed down the options from the areas Tom had recommended last time. They'd even arranged for a local contact to help them.

Of course, adding the promissory note Roan left would change the options. It was enough to live comfortably even in the heart of the capital's bustling district.

But Delnia naturally had no intention of touching his money, and ultimately, she would choose one of the pre-selected locations.

So her hesitation now wasn't because it was a difficult question to answer.

Then why?

Why couldn't she bring herself to speak, over something so trivial? She had decided to leave quite some time ago.

An inexplicable sense of unease, like shallow, rising water, was faint yet persistently tugging at her nerves.

It was in that very moment, as Delnia remained oblivious to Milan's loyal, sharp gaze trying to pinpoint her location, that she became entangled in the confusion she herself had created.

"It's terrible!"

The sound of stomping feet echoed clatteringly through the cramped mansion. Then, without a knock, the door burst open.

Margaret, clutching the doorknob, gasped as if she might pass out at any moment. Her face, flushed bright red from the rush of blood, showed how agitated she was.