Chapter 22

 Upheaval (2)

Last night, after Lucius laid the drunken Celia on the bed, a long, suffocating silence settled over him.

“Celia.”

“Mmm…”

At the sound of his voice, her lips parted ever so slightly as a soft breath escaped them.

The tiny candlelight drifted across her cheeks. Her skin was flushed crimson, and beneath it, warm blood pulsed lazily.

“Sleepy?”

“I… am…”

Her earnest answer drew a faint smile from Lucius.

“So you’re still conscious enough to answer me?”

“Mmm…”

Her eyes, which had been sinking into sleep, slowly fluttered open.

It seemed she wasn’t fully awake yet. Beneath trembling eyelashes, her gaze wandered sluggishly.

Like someone standing on the border between dreams and reality—uneasy, yet completely defenseless.

“Did I wake you?”

She shook her head, then, perhaps dizzy, pulled the blanket over her cheek.

“Celia… does it make you uncomfortable that I’m here?”

As Lucius sat beside the bed, the small mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, quietly invading her space.

Gently coaxing her, he waited patiently for her answer.

“…It does.”

“…Why?”

Why?

Even through her drunken haze, Celia thought it was such a strange question.

She hated him.

He hated her.

It was such an obvious truth that it hardly needed explaining.

“When your memories come back… you’ll resent me. You’ll get angry at me.”

Lucius froze, his hand halfway to caressing her warm cheek.

A storm of indescribable emotions rippled through the eyes fixed upon her.

“There wasn’t… even once… that I was happy by your side.”

Her words reminded Lucius of the moment he’d awakened after losing his memories.

The warmth that had filled his chest the instant he’d embraced the person he’d longed for…

Even amidst his fractured memories, there had always been one unmistakable certainty.

Her.

Never once had he doubted his feelings for her.

But there were men who claimed to love their wives while abusing them.

There was no guarantee…

…that he wasn’t one of those men.

“…Did I… do something terrible to you?”

Celia’s gaze slid awkwardly away from him.

After lingering somewhere around his shoulder, her eyelids slowly lowered, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“Lucius…”

“…Why do you keep asking me such weird questions?”

“Are they weird?”

“You’ve never asked me anything before.”

As those slurred words escaped her lips…

Lucius felt as though he were drowning despite still breathing.

“A noble marriage doesn’t always have a happy ending.”

Love was an illusion.

A marriage built on mutual respect was an ideal.

“I thought I was one of the fortunate ones.”

But the woman before him whispered that every one of those beliefs had been a lie.

“…How did I end up marrying you?”

“I… didn’t have a choice.”

“It’s not like I had any power.”

“No one listened to what I wanted.”

“I was living exactly the same as always…”

“…and suddenly everyone said I had to marry you.”

“…Then…”

“…You never wanted to marry me?”

“…Who? Me?”

She laughed as if he’d said something utterly ridiculous.

As though such a thing could never happen.

Lucius’s lips pressed tightly together.

After losing his memories…

Everyone around him had genuinely worried about him.

Their loyalty.

Their concern.

Their vows to dedicate everything to him.

Through all of that, he’d come to believe he must have been a fairly decent person.

Except…

For one person.

Celia.

“I thought I was simply unfamiliar to her.”

Even if two people were the same…

Losing all the memories they’d shared could make them feel like strangers.

Even the subtle wariness in her eyes…

Lucius had dismissed it without much thought.

He’d convinced himself it was merely awkwardness.

Perhaps…

That had simply been the lingering shadow of the man he’d once been.

Had he always treated her however he pleased…

Without ever caring how she felt?

“…Ha.”

What kind of horrifying truth was this?

As he swallowed a shallow breath, tangled emotions rose inside him.

Anger.

Disappointment.

And…

Disgust toward himself.

Truthfully…

He had never been desperate to recover his memories.

If they were destined to return someday…

There was no need to rush.

But now…

That had changed.

For the first time, he wished…

“I wish they would never come back.”

If this was the truth waiting for him…

He wanted it to remain buried forever.

“Lucius…”

“I remember every wound you left me.”

“And you…”

Drifting deeper into sleep, Celia never finished the sentence.

Her lips merely moved before falling still.

But her resentment alone was enough to crush him.

He could no longer deny reality.

To her…

He was nothing more than the lingering remains of a cruel, despicable man.

“She said we’d known each other for a long time.”

Then perhaps…

Throughout all those years…

He really had tormented her.

Lucius tilted his head back.

The corners of his eyes had turned red.

Disgust for himself clouded his once-clear green eyes.

“Celia…”

“What should I do?”

“Mmm…”

“Why do you keep asking pointless questions…?”

But then…

“…Once your memories come back…”

“…you’ll just become the same as before.”

Perhaps…

Losing his memories had actually been a blessing.

A selfish.

Ugly thought wrapped itself around Lucius.

If the man he had once been truly was beyond salvation…

If he’d left wounds on her heart that could never disappear…

Then perhaps…

The man he was now—

A man ignorant of those sins—

Could remain by her side.

It was a tainted thought.

And yet…

Its sweetness was almost intoxicating.

“If I could stay the person I am now…”

“…could I remain beside you?”

He didn’t know where the twisted heart of his former self had gone.

But his yearning for her remained unchanged.

Standing atop the ruins of that yearning…

Lucius confessed a desire so honest it was almost cruel.

“I want to stay by your side.”

Her heavy eyelids slowly closed.

In a voice so faint it sounded ready to disappear, she murmured,

“…If it’s the you right now…”

“…maybe…”

“…it wouldn’t be as bad as before…”

Soon…

Only the quiet rhythm of her breathing filled the room.

Lucius stared at her sleeping face for a long time.

Then, at last, he quietly slipped into the narrow bed beside her.

Without hesitation, he drew her into his arms as she naturally leaned against him.

All he wanted…

Was to cherish her.

To hold her gently.

If the man he’d once been was truly gone…

If he would never hurt her again…

And if…

She could look at the man he was now—

“Celia.”

His fingers threaded gently through her hair.

Burying his face against the nape of her neck, he breathed her in.

A dark shadow spread through his once-pure emerald eyes.

Desire slowly stained their former clarity.

This…

Was an opportunity.

Was she still dreaming?

Looking up at the man sitting astride her, Celia couldn’t help wondering.

People said that dream fairies sometimes scattered mischievous dust over sleeping heads.

Dreams touched by that dust showed impossible realities—

Leaving people trapped on the fragile boundary between illusion and truth.

“Still sleepy?”

Lucius whispered.

For someone who had only just woken up, he looked impossibly neat.

His tousled hair fell across his forehead.

Several buttons of his shirt had come undone, exposing the smooth line of his neck.

Warm breaths slipped through the opening and brushed against her cheek.

“Get off first…!”

Panicking, Celia slammed her foot onto his thigh.

Firm muscle shifted beneath her sole before tensing subtly.

Lucius frowned…

Then smiled ever so slightly.

Celia also realized that what her foot was touching…

Wasn’t muscle at all.

“…Huh?”

Her confused gaze instinctively drifted downward.

Beneath the fabric crushed under her pale foot…

Something made its unmistakable presence known.

When she instinctively wriggled her toes…

It twitched as though it were alive.

Startled out of her wits, Celia tried to yank her foot away.

But Lucius’s hand slid smoothly down from beside her head.

His fingers gently wrapped around her ankle.

She flinched.

Her foot curled instinctively.

When he tightened his grip just a little…

Her slender leg was effortlessly pulled toward him.

Her exposed ankle gleamed pale against the cool morning air.

Lucius stared at it for a moment.

Then, very slowly…

He lowered his lips.

“It’s just a physiological reaction.”

“It happens every morning…”

“…even without any indecent thoughts.”

Like hell I care!

Prepared to kick him square in the face if necessary, Celia swung her foot violently.

Lucius didn’t budge.

Instead…

As if deliberately provoking her—

He lowered his lips even farther from where they’d rested against her ankle.

His warm breath traced across her skin.

Smack.

His lips lingered near her knee as a slow smile curved across his face.

“Ah…”

“…Maybe today’s a little different after all.”

Celia repeated the same thought over and over in her mind.

She could never get used to this.

And she absolutely shouldn’t.

“You slept in my arms.”

This had to be one of those awful dreams created by a malicious dream fairy.

“Aren’t you curious…”

“…after making me like this?”