Misfortune ss4

Side story 4

***

“Did you know? When the Colonel went missing, I was the one who delivered the news.”

It was only natural. Delivering an officer’s death notice falls to the aide.

Yet strangely, Roan’s heart sank. The woman’s wail he had never heard echoed in his ears, making them ring.

“And the Count’s expression at that moment……………, overlapped with the final moments of the late Count."

"...."

"That's why I'm telling you. I think you should know that the Colonel is someone who could shatter her in an instant."

Each word, heavier than any commonplace advice to "do well," settled like lead in Roan's chest. Even a simple "I understand" wouldn't come easily.

Perhaps sensing the tension in the air, where even a breath felt wasted, Silber added in a lighter tone.

"Besides, I realized something when you went missing. Honor belongs to the living. There are countless things in life more precious than honor."

As he spoke, Silber recalled the woman who had embraced her loss alone and sunk into silence.

Some losses go beyond wounding a person; they leave them hollow. A vast, unfillable hole is torn open, and everything chewed and swallowed escapes without being absorbed.

Silber never wanted to see that transparent, pallid emptiness again.

"That concludes what I wished to say. I apologize once more for leaving my post without fulfilling my orders."

At last, like someone who had shaken off a heavy burden, Silber bowed to Roan with a refreshed and composed expression.

And Roan, who had received that burden, barely managed to open his mouth.

"No, it's fine."

He wanted to say more, but for some reason, his voice wouldn't come out. Roan slowly stroked his jaw and touched his lips. A dull ache rose from the stiff, sore inside his jaw.

Instead, as if understanding his feelings completely, or perhaps as if it were now none of his concern, Silber spoke with a faint smile on his lips.

"Take good care of her."

It could be seen as presumptuous. Roan was his superior, and Silber was nothing to Delnia.

But Roan wasn't the kind of rigid superior who would nitpick over rank when his aide was simply urging him to live well.

"See you later in Blois."

"Yes, Colonel."

Roan ended the conversation with a brief farewell, and Silber also bowed his head to see him off.

Roan turned away without a second glance, his footsteps quickening.

He wanted to see her as soon as possible. As always, but this time with his whole heart.

****

Delnia felt slightly bewildered.

She had accepted it when Kais took over for Silber, who had abruptly excused himself and left. The man who had openly shown hostility toward her when she was a slave was now decidedly polite.

Perhaps it was because she had been elevated to Count. It was laughable that Kais, who had never hidden his hostility toward nobility, was actually the most judgmental of all based on status, but it wasn't exactly a surprising change.

So, her bewilderment stemmed from the figure who appeared next.

"Count Eperne."

Marcel approached her, his usual considerate smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Kais was the first to react. Slightly blocking Delnia's path as if wary of Marcel, he whispered to her.

"Do you know him?"

Delnia couldn't answer immediately, feeling a bit awkward. It was because the somewhat abrupt ending had come to mind.

But pretending not to know would have been strange too, so she gave Kais a slight nod to signal it was fine, then turned toward Marcel.

"It's been a long time, Lord Marcel."

Her greeting came across as perfectly calm, as if nothing untoward had ever happened. Marcel's smile deepened.

"Congratulations on regaining your title."

"Thank you. I merely received Her Majesty's grace."

Delnia accepted the congratulations calmly. It was entirely true; she had contributed nothing to her regaining the title.

"It was always your rightful place."

But Marcel emphasized that she had merely returned to where she rightfully belonged.

It must be so. Marcel remembered her spirit, unshaken even in slavery. That light that never dimmed, no matter how low she was dragged.

He could still vividly recall how pitiful his own cowardice had looked, starkly exposed in the glare of that intense light.

"Oh, and please convey my congratulations to the Colonel on his safe return. I don't know if he'll believe it, but it's sincere."

"Of course, I have no doubt about your sincerity."

Marcel gave a wry laugh at Delnia's hasty addition. It wasn't her he doubted would believe it, but Roan.

He had once coveted this woman. He wanted to protect her so she could keep shining. Like tending to a wildflower blooming in the wilderness, he wanted to be a fence shielding her from wind and rain, preventing even the slightest harm.

But now he knew. She wasn't a woman who could be with someone harboring such complacent thoughts.

What she needed wasn't a fence, but soil where she could take firm root.

Even if a raging storm knocked her down, or rough, parched earth withered her. She still needed a foundation that would ultimately lift her back up.

And he wasn't the man who could provide that.

Marcel could now accept that realization calmly, though it had hurt deeply at the time. Along with the final role left for him.

"I don't know if you're aware, but I'm soon departing for the Northern Continent. Thanks to Her Majesty's support, I'll be able to conduct research at the cradle of ancient civilization."

"I see."

Delnia replied calmly.

Truthfully, it was news she had glimpsed in passing, in an article praising the new emperor's achievements. But she made no effort to reveal that she knew.

"Unless something unexpected happens, I expect to stay there for a long time, so I wanted to say goodbye. This might be the last time we meet."

"...."

Delnia let out a low sigh. She had no intention of rekindling her relationship with Marcel, but hearing the words "last time" spoken outright stirred up a fluttery feeling inside her.

"I wish the Count a future filled with continued safety and peace."

Marcel offered his polite wishes for her well-being. As always, he was the picture of a gentleman.

She understood perfectly well what kind of final moment he hoped for, so Delnia set aside her emotions for a moment and returned his smile.

"I hope you too, Lord Marcel, find peace in your distant travels."

Just as they were exchanging such polite farewells and wrapping up their conversation.

"Count."

A breathy, urgent voice called out to her.

Delnia quickly turned her head toward the voice's owner. Without warning, Roan had taken the seat beside her, his expression stony.

Despite bearing the full force of that sharp gaze, Marcel paid it no mind. Instead, he deepened his smile toward her and bowed.

"Then I shall take my leave."

Marcel even left a polite silent bow for Roan before departing.

Even then, Roan didn't take her eyes off Marcel. He remained tense, as if the slightest lapse in concentration might let him take her away.

"Colonel Barthez."

Delnia called out to him reproachfully.

But Roan didn't move an inch. His fierce gaze fixed on Marcel, who was already far away, remained unchanged.

"Roan."

Finally, she called his name cautiously, as if it were her last resort. Without any title or formality, as if from some distant past.

After returning alive, Roan insisted on using only formal titles with Delnia. Considering his status, it wasn't improper etiquette, but it wasn't just his speech; his entire demeanor toward her was excessively deferential.

Even as a commoner, Roan was a hero of Brunois and a Navy Rear Admiral who deserved more respect than most nobles. Above all, the two were lovers, regardless of status.

So he could afford to relax a little. Yet for some reason, he never allowed himself any slack.

Consequently, Delnia also found it difficult to drop formalities. Though Roan insisted it was fine, when he was being so excessively attentive, it felt awkward for her alone to cross the line.

Because of this, Roan's excessive politeness sometimes felt disappointing, but thanks to it, whenever she suddenly closed the distance like this, it worked every single time.

Sure enough, like magic, he turned back to her. His deep breath, like someone finally catching their breath, tickled the top of her head.

"May I ask what you were talking about?"

"Nothing much. Lord Marcel is leaving for the Northern Continent soon, so we just exchanged farewells."

Despite Delnia's explanation, Roan's expression remained unsettled, as if his unease hadn't fully dissipated.

But soon, as if it didn't matter anymore, he looked straight at her and asked.

"If you have no further business, how about we head inside?"

"Already?"

Delnia asked, her eyes widening. She meant, was it really acceptable for the host to leave so early?

Then Roan shrugged lightly, as if to say, why wouldn't it be? He then gently offered his hand to her.

Though her puzzlement wasn't entirely gone, Delnia willingly took his hand. There was no reason not to.