Chapter 6
It was around the time evening had already passed.
After sending off the Alfrt couple with a promise to meet again, Cotton had been dozing lightly under the lingering effects of the medicine Gott had given her.
ââŠWhat did you say?â
For a moment, Cotton thought she might still be dreaming.
When Sheldi hurriedly woke her up and she rose groggily, even when she saw Ricktonâs face, someone who should not have been here, she assumed it was still part of a dream.
âLetâs try to recover your memories.â
But the clear, low voice rang unmistakably in her ears.
Cottonâs eyes widened. The last traces of sleep vanished instantly.
She climbed down from the bed and walked toward the sofa opposite where Rickton was sitting.
Rickton was looking around the room.
Cotton noticed his gaze fall on the empty medicine packet on the bedside table and hurriedly stepped in front of it, hiding it with her body. As if it were nothing, she crumpled it in her hand and tossed it into the trash.
She had expected him to ask what the medicine was for.
But Ricktonâs lips never opened.
Even though she herself had wanted to hide the fact that she was taking medicine because her body had grown weak, she somehow felt disappointed.
Trying to hide her gloomy expression, Cotton forced an awkward smile and sat down on the sofa.
But the thought vanished almost instantly as her face flushed hot.
She had just woken up, and her appearance was a mess.
She smoothed her wrinkled clothes and fixed her disheveled hair.
For the first time, she felt resentful toward Sheldi for not preparing her properly when the Emperor had come to visit.
Still, more important than that was why Rickton had come here.
âRecover my memories? Why⊠why?â
Why all of a sudden?
Hadnât he stopped trying to help her recover them?
Cotton couldnât understand.
When she first left Kuswell and came to Asbern with Rickton, she had continued trying to recover her memories. There had been no progress, but their relationship had developed into romance, and eventually they married.
After the wedding, however, it felt as if everything had been cut off. Their relationship had grown distant.
So she had assumed he had given up.
âWhy ask for a reason? Didnât you want to recover your memories?â
Cotton remained silent, unable to confirm or deny it.
In truth, she had wanted to recover her memories even more than Rickton.
She had tried every method possible, day and night, working tirelessly.
Since he was convinced she was his missing former fiancée, Cotton wanted to regain her memories and proudly declare that she truly was Renedia.
But nowâŠ
She wanted to remember, and yet she didnât.
Another possibility had begun to gnaw at her.
And if she started searching for her memories again nowâ
âYou donât have a choice anyway.â
His firm voice cut through her tangled thoughts.
Rickton continued calmly, as if her answer didnât matter.
âIâll come by whenever I have time. Iâll bring things related to Renedia one by one. Like before, look at them and hold onto them. If even the smallest thing comes to mind, tell me immediately.â
ââŠAlright.â
âYou should also go outside sometimes.â
He had given her permission to leave.
He had once forbidden even walking in the garden.
Was he telling her to do whatever she wanted now?
Or did it mean he simply didnât care anymore?
Cotton forced away the dark thoughts creeping over her and nodded.
As if there was nothing more to say, Rickton stood up.
She hadnât expected him to ask casual things like whether she had eaten dinner, but the sight of him turning away without even a hint of hesitation still stung.
She had always watched his back like this.
But today, it somehow felt harder to look at.
Cotton quietly lowered her gaze.
She couldnât understand Ricktonâs true intentions for suggesting the search for memories again.
But she had a vague guess.
Cotton thought:
If she failed to recover her memoriesâ
Or if she did remember, only to discover that she wasnât RenediaâŠ
Then even remaining at his side as his wife would truly come to an end.
* * *
Cotton quietly stared at the piece of paper.
She had taken it out and examined it so often that the worn sheet fluttered weakly in her hands.
When Cotton first met Rickton in Kuswell, she hadnât believed him when he said,
âYouâre Renedia.â
A stranger had suddenly grabbed her and shouted those words.
She had been terrified.
If it werenât for the fact that this manâwho looked as though he would never shed a single drop of bloodâcovered his face and wept, she might have run away without listening to his explanation.
Even after learning the reason behind his behavior, she still hadnât believed him immediately.
After all, she had lived her entire remembered life as Cotton.
How could she suddenly be someone named Renedia Alfrt from a distant land?
But there had been one clear reason that eventually convinced her.
âEyes⊠nose⊠mouth⊠hairâŠâ
Her fingers traced the paper.
More precisely, they caressed the person drawn on it.
Her fingertips passed over the slightly curved eyes that seemed to be smiling, brushed the nose, and slid past the neatly closed lips.
Then they touched the softly shaded gray hair.
It was the portrait of Renedia Alfrt that Rickton had given her.
The portrait depicted a younger girl.
Anyone who saw it might have assumed the girl was Cottonâs younger sister.
Even Cotton herself had been startled when she first saw how much they resembled each other.
ââŠWe do look alike, right?â
Yet her voice sounded uncertain.
She looked down again.
Even if the painting contained minor differences, the color of Renediaâs hair matched hers exactly.
She also strongly resembled Raven, Renediaâs father.
Gray hair wasnât common.
But it wasnât unheard of either.
Cotton gathered her hair to one side, clutching it tightly in both hands, and bowed her head like someone praying.
* * *
Whether his proposal to recover her memories was sincere or not, Rickton began bringing items related to Renedia regularly.
Cotton had assumed he would send someone else.
But surprisingly, he came himself.
She was happy to see her husband more often.
Yet at the same time, these moments felt as if they were slowly suffocating her.
âThis is a hairpin she used to wear often. This is a handkerchief. And thisâŠâ
Rickton would line up the items on the table and explain them in detail.
Then he handed them to Cotton so she could examine them later.
He would lean back against the sofa and silently watch her for a long time, observing whether anything changed.
Cotton would then examine the objects one by oneâitems filled with Renediaâs memories.
Even without looking at Rickton, she could feel exactly what he was doing.
While reaching out to pick up and inspect the items, she felt his persistent gaze constantly on her.
The pressure felt like a silent demand.
Her shoulders stiffened.
A dark future she didnât want to imagine loomed over her.
With that shadow-like gaze following her, concentration was impossible.
But whether she focused or not, no matter how carefully she examined the items, nothing came back to her.
Cotton fidgeted with the last itemâa handkerchief.
Unlike the others, there was nothing particularly special about it.
It was simply a piece of fine cloth embroidered with Renediaâs name.
Yet she held onto it for a long time before finally setting it down and returning to the jewelry she had already inspected once.
Whenever Cotton said she couldnât remember anything, Rickton would gather the items and leave the room.
And that was the end.
Even if she went looking for him afterward, he wouldnât meet her.
In other words, this time together was the only moment she could spend with her husband.
âThereâs something Iâve been wanting to say.â
It was also her only chance to speak with him properly.
Glancing at her husband, Cotton finally spoke through the heavy silence.
Rickton didnât respond.
But he didnât stop her either.
That alone brightened Cottonâs expression as she carefully continued.
âPlease listen without getting angry.â
ââŠâŠâ
âWhat you said the day after our wedding⊠I believe there was truly some misunderstandingââ
Her calm voice gradually grew smaller and stopped.
Cotton loved Ricktonâs deep, navy-blue eyes.
Usually they appeared cold and indifferent.
But whenever they looked at her, warmth would fill them.
That was why Cotton loved meeting his gaze.
But now she slowly lowered her eyes.
After the wedding, Rickton had avoided and ignored her.
But he had never looked at her with such contempt before.
âI told you to recover your memories. I have no intention of listening to excuses or pointless explanations. Focus.â
Hearing his icy voice, Cotton finally realized the distance between them.
And she understood something.
It was definitely a misunderstanding.
But to her husbandâŠ
It no longer mattered.
The determination she had to resolve it faded away like a wilting flower.
Silence settled between them like thin ice.
They remained frozen in their positions, as if time had stopped.
After a long while, Cotton moved first.
She set the items down and slowly walked toward the window.
Looking outside through the glass, she asked softly, almost like a sigh.
ââŠShall we go out to the street?â
Even though she now had permission to leave whenever she wished, Cotton had never left the room.
Partly because she never knew when Rickton might come.
Partly because she felt uncomfortable about the servants having to pay attention to the Empressâs movements.
But now she wanted to go outside with Rickton.
âYou said you used to visit those places often with Miss Renedia. I didnât remember anything before, but some time has passed now⊠maybe something different might come to mind.â
Afraid he would refuse immediately, Cotton added quickly.
If it had something to do with recovering memories, perhaps he would agree.
âI want to go out into the streets with you.â
Rickton thought for a moment.
Then he stood up.
âLetâs go now.â
