IRRY 07

Chapter 7

The rattling carriage finally stopped, and Cotton and Rickton stepped down. The sun had already begun to sink low in the sky. The streets, drenched in a warm orange sunset, were still lively with people moving about.

Taking in that vitality with her eyes, ears, and even her skin, Cotton looked up beside her with quiet anticipation. Rickton had just finished speaking with the coachman and turned when he sensed her gaze. Unlike Cotton, whose cheeks were slightly flushed, his face showed little emotion.

“So. What are we doing here?”

Rickton slightly pushed back the hood he had been wearing and frowned at the tall clock tower rising above them. During the carriage ride he had already warned her that they would have to return soon, so it didn’t seem like he simply didn’t want to spend time with her—he really did have other matters to attend to.

“You’ve come here several times to try to recover my memories, remember? I came here even after that. It might help.”

Feeling both somewhat reassured and slightly anxious, Cotton began walking first. She moved as though she had already decided where to go, her steps steady and without hesitation.

She had worried that Rickton might ignore her, but whenever she glanced back, she saw him following a few paces behind.

It had been a long time since she had come here, so Cotton occasionally stopped and looked around in confusion. Still, she soon found her way and moved naturally from one place to another.

“Do you remember this house? The owner used to feed the stray cats. If you came at the right time, there would be cats everywhere. They were all so gentle. If you approached them, they’d flop over and act cute.”

Cotton crouched down and stroked a cat.

“And if you go further in from here, you said it turns into a complete maze, right? I always wanted to take a look once… but I guess we don’t have time now.”

They stopped by the alley rumored to be like a maze.

“And here! Your clothes got dirty here once. A child carrying milk spilled it all over you. Your face when you complained about how wet it felt is still so vivid in my memory.”

She smiled fondly at the familiar streets.

Cotton felt as though her mood were gently floating upward. Walking through streets full of memories together with her husband—what a precious moment.

They walked a little apart, so it couldn’t really be called affectionate. But the fact that Rickton hadn’t turned back yet was enough for her to feel that he was showing consideration.

Did he understand my wish? she wondered quietly.

Just then, Cotton’s eyes suddenly brightened and she looked toward the distance. A delicious smell drifted from a shop a few blocks away. She quickened her pace toward it.

“Could I get one to go?”

“Yes! One to go!”

After she paid, the shopkeeper cheerfully wrapped up the bread. Steam rose from it as Cotton blew on it lightly, then broke it in half and held a piece out to Rickton, who stood there silently.

Rickton took the bread reflexively, frowning as if asking why she was giving it to him.

“The bread here is really good.”

“So?”

“You said it before. That the owner strongly believes warm bread is the best, so they bake it more often than other places. That’s why the bread here tastes the best… I kept thinking about it even in the imperial palace. Let’s eat before we go.”

There was no need to explain herself so much, yet Cotton continued talking anyway.

She took a bite of the freshly baked bread. Without the layers of wrapping, it would have been too hot to hold. The heat melted warmly in her mouth, rich and fragrant.

At the palace she often couldn’t eat much and would leave food behind, but this went down easily. Bite after bite disappeared until most of the large piece was gone.

Still chewing with her small mouth working diligently, Cotton glanced at her husband’s face.

Your cheeks are so full. What are you, a squirrel? People might think you’re storing food for winter.

Rickton had once said that while laughing.

When Cotton had stuffed her mouth full of the soft, sweet bread—so different from the food they had eaten on the island—he had lifted the corners of his lips in a broad smile.

Unlike his usual cold expression, that bright laugh had seemed unexpectedly boyish. His smile had been so open and handsome that Cotton had stared at him blankly.

“So what did we come here for? Just to eat that bread?”

Her small expectation collapsed instantly.

Rickton’s cold voice dripped with sarcasm, his face showing nothing but disbelief.

“I thought you might have come up with a way to recover your memories.”

Cotton stood there, still unable to swallow the bread in her mouth, listening silently to his harsh words.

“Didn’t you realize what you’re supposed to be doing? Is that why you’re wasting time like this? Even if you’ve lost your memories, I didn’t think you were stupid enough to behave like this.”

“…That’s not true. I’m trying too.”

Forcing the soft bread down her throat as if she were swallowing hard gravel, she replied in a faint voice.

“Trying? It just looks like you came out to play. I suppose calling it ‘effort’ makes you feel better.”

Rickton threw the bread in his hand onto the ground.

“Stop doing pointless things and focus on recovering your memories.”

He spat the words out and walked away.

Cotton couldn’t even think about following him. She simply stared at the bread lying on the ground. Slowly she bent down and picked it up.

The bread he hadn’t taken a single bite of was quickly cooling after touching the cold ground.

“…Pointless.”

Cotton murmured emptily, as though her chest had become hollow.

The places they had passed today were all places she had once walked with Rickton in the past. They had shared conversations there, built many happy memories along those streets.

She had come here hoping to recover memories related to Renedía, but those streets had also come to hold great meaning for Cotton herself.

But to him, those memories must have been meaningless.

* * *

Rickton felt so irritated that even the normal rattling of the carriage grated on his nerves.

Since getting into the carriage after leaving the streets, Renedía hadn’t said a single word.

She wouldn’t stop talking on the way here.

Renedía’s voice was gentle and smooth, with little fluctuation in tone. Talking with her usually felt peaceful rather than noisy.

Yet for some reason, Rickton felt even more irritated now that she was silent, his brows knitting together.

Nothing about Renedía had changed enough to justify this feeling.

She still sat with her back perfectly straight, looking out the window. The small habit of tucking one side of her hair behind her ear because she disliked it getting messy remained unchanged.

Many people had said it before.

Can a child really know love?

It’s just childish feelings that will fade.

You only think you love her because she takes your side. Know your place.

Rickton wanted to ask those people something.

If everyone in the world told you that you shouldn’t exist…
and only one person reached out and held your hand—

how could you not love that person?

To Rickton, Renedía had been exactly that.

When he first found her on the island, she was wearing worn-out clothes covered in dirt. Her hair was tangled and unkempt, dull and uneven.

Compared to the woman she once had been, it was a shockingly filthy appearance.

Yet the moment he saw her, the heart that had seemed frozen began to tremble.

Her youthful face from ten years ago might have changed slightly, but the shape of the eyes that looked up at him and the soft atmosphere he loved about her remained the same.

He had half given up.

For ten years he hadn’t found even a single trace of her. He had begun to think she must be dead.

…Perhaps it would have been better if she had been.

Rickton’s dark blue eyes sank into deeper shadows.

When he confirmed she was alive, relief had flooded him. He was grateful she didn’t seem seriously hurt, and overwhelming emotions surged through him simply because she was alive.

“Who… are you?”

But she didn’t remember him.

He wanted to know why she had lost her memories. He felt hurt and sorrowful that she didn’t recognize him—but he forced those feelings down.

For now, he was simply grateful that she was alive.

Suppressing the burning turmoil in his chest, he brought her back to Asbern and helped her try to recover her memories.

Even when there was no progress, he didn’t give up.

He believed that one day she would remember him.

And so he stayed by her side unwaveringly until their wedding was held.

Then, on the very day of the ceremony, a report reached him.

“…It appears they formed a household and lived together…”

Something in his chest creaked.

Rumors he had once dismissed resurfaced.

The missing Lady Alphert wasn’t actually missing.

It was a planned escape.

She ran away with someone she loved because their difference in status couldn’t be overcome.

Her fiancé was just a cover.

He had always believed those rumors were malicious gossip.

But now every piece of evidence pointed toward them being true.

Questions he had suppressed began surfacing.

How could a noble lady who had never even visited a harbor travel to Kuswell Island, which required over two weeks by ship?

How could he explain the servant’s testimony that she had been seen entering the forest with a man on the morning she disappeared?

Was Renedía really… kidnapped?

In the end, all the doubts converged into one conclusion.

Renedía abandoned me.

If she had been going to run away, she should have hidden somewhere on the other side of the world and let him believe she was dead.

“…I learned the truth.”

Pain clawed at Rickton’s heart.

His fingers grew cold, and rage surged beneath a wave of sorrow.

The memories of their love and the endless years he had spent searching for her twisted together, darkening into betrayal.

He couldn’t bear to look at her.

Every time he saw her face, disgust and hatred flooded him.

But the more he tried to push her away, the more vividly he imagined her—happy with the man she had run away with.

You got married?

It didn’t matter anymore who she had married.

Whether she lost her memories before or after.

Renedía had abandoned him to live with another man.

But now you’re in my hands.

She was now the Empress of Asbern—married to him.

She couldn’t escape.

There was plenty of time.

If he used every possible method to help her recover her memories, eventually she would remember everything.

And when she did—

she would be horrified.

When she realized the man beside her was the fiancé she had betrayed ten years ago, she would despair and want to run away.

He wanted her to be unhappy.

He wanted her to suffer from guilt.

To cry every day in remorse.

Remember.

Rickton prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in.

Remember me.