Chapter: 32
Having spoken his thoughts calmly, a sudden notion struck him, and he urgently met Lysithea’s gaze.
Matters of family were incredibly delicate. One could readily speak ill of them, but if the other person agreed too readily, it often became unpleasant to hear.
He feared she might think his treatment of Celia was a sign of disrespect towards her.
“Or do you want me to do that? To give your family their due respect, for appearances’ sake.”
“…And if I did?”
Lysithea asked back, her face an unreadable mask.
It was easy to say she should abandon such a family, to give in to immediate anger.
But he knew that sometimes, the more difficult and frustrating solution was the more valuable one.
“I’d rather not, but if that’s what you want, I will. I can’t make things uncomfortable for you just to ease my own mind.”
Lysithea’s wounds had to be healed in a way she could endure.
After all, he wasn’t the one who was hurting.
Hearing his answer, Lysithea swallowed another mouthful of tea.
The already cold tea still felt burning hot.
Contrary to his misunderstanding, she had no desire whatsoever to maintain even a superficial peace with those she called family.
Lysithea wouldn’t have cared if Diarmuid had made Celia kneel for ten days and nights.
Though, with his soft nature, he’d probably send her back within a day.
It was his sentiment—that her comfort came first—that stirred something within her, a warm, prickling feeling.
Then she, too, must give him peace.
She needed to explain her actions, the ones that had tormented his nights.
“Yes! That brilliant new fiancé of yours! The knights he assigned to you! They’re the ones who branded my back!”
“When you woke up, I thought a lot about what to say, how to say it… but I still don’t know. I really don’t.”
Lysithea downed the remaining tea in her cup in one gulp and opened her mouth.
“There’s something I need to tell Your Highness.”
Even though it shouldn’t have, the path the tea took felt scaldingly hot, as if burned.
As Lysithea produced the letter but hesitated, unable to continue, Diarmuid reached out with a smile.
His large, well-formed hand gently enclosed hers.
“Conversations with someone you like are always a pleasure.”
Lysithea lifted her head and met his crimson eyes.
The words that had been circling only in her mouth tumbled out as if pushed.
“…As you might have already guessed, the monstrous beast that appeared at the Marquis Aster estate… I was the one who orchestrated it.”
“To leave that house without any issues?”
He held her hand, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb.
Lysithea thought: this aspect of him, she would never, ever get used to.
“Yes. It was the fastest and surest way.”
At her answer, the movement of his thumb on her hand stopped.
Diarmuid looked at her, his expression troubled.
Even though he had suspected as much, hearing it directly complicated his feelings.
To achieve her goals, Lysithea was far too unhesitant in using herself as a tool.
It didn’t even seem to require any great resolve from her.
He wanted to tell her to value herself, not to get used to using herself as a means to an end.
He swallowed the words that threatened to spill out, pressing them down with the tip of his tongue.
“Yes, as you say, that was probably the fastest and surest way.”
Instead, with those words, he acknowledged her choice.
“And the outcome must be satisfactory.”
She had succeeded. He couldn’t deny that.
The other methods he had thought of when leaving her at Aster weren’t as efficient as her scheme.
Lysithea had achieved her goal without placing any political burden on him.
Perfectly. Swiftly.
But understanding with his head and fully accepting it with his heart were two different things.
Diarmuid couldn’t easily come to terms with her decision.
Throughout that night he had stood guard over her as she lay collapsed, having vomited blood, he was tormented by the thoughts that filled his mind.
“Standing by you as you lay unconscious, I kept thinking. Why did she do something so dangerous? Was there no other way? Couldn’t she have at least consulted with me before doing something like that?”
Knowing the answers all too well, Diarmuid had still endlessly questioned the unconscious Lysithea.
“At first, I was angry and frustrated… but then I thought I understood why you had to do it.”
His voice, recalling that day, carried a hint of weariness.
Seeing Lysithea’s face contorted in pain, yet muttering about the tasks she needed to handle the moment she regained consciousness, he knew he had to accept her choice.
“That must have been your way of surviving.”
How easy it is, from a safe place, to judge that as wrong and interfere.
Unlike him, who had to crouch and hide because he had too much to protect, Lysithea was simply thrown into an environment where she couldn’t protect herself without doing just that.
Realizing that, he had to swallow even words of concern, feeling they would insult her fierce struggle.
So, he had intended to bury this matter forever.
“What I’m curious about now is something else. Will you answer me?”
Lysithea nodded silently.
“Why are you telling me this? This could become a weakness for you.”
Diarmuid never expected Lysithea to bring this up first.
Her unexpected confession stirred a certain hope within him.
“Because I found out that you already knew. The person who carried out the monster attack contacted me. They said things went wrong because of the knights you had assigned to me.”
“Is that really all?”
The man’s face, always so composed, was now tinged with longing.
Lysithea unconsciously leaned back. Her mouth felt inexplicably dry.
She bit her lower lip, then released it, the words bursting out as if spat.
“You… you took my side. You said you would unconditionally be on my side.”
“It seems the Marquis has absolutely no idea what the real problem is. My demand, from start to finish, was only one thing: to treat Lysithea with the proper respect befitting her position.”
“If someone can feel kindly towards a family that abused their wife, that’s not kindness or gentleness. That’s indifference. I don’t want to be that kind of inadequate husband.”
He was the one who had unhesitatingly taken her side even in front of the Marquis Aster and Celia.
“You must unconditionally be on my side.”
“Didn’t you know? I’m already on your side, aren’t I?”
He was the one who said he would continue to be on her side.
“You said you didn’t want to be an inadequate husband. I feel the same way.”
Lysithea finally felt she understood the name of the hot breath that had been seething in her chest.
“I want to remain a good memory for Your Highness, even if just a little.”
She had never feared a bad reputation. She had never thought she wanted to be a good person.
But when the thought crossed her mind that he might come to dislike her, she was afraid.
She didn’t want to be hated. She didn’t want to lose the warmth she had finally gained.
“So please, Your Highness, be honest with me too. Not your roundabout words, polished smooth for fear of hurting me, but your true feelings.”
“Every word I’ve said so far has been my honest, true feelings.”
“…”
“But there is something I haven’t said. I wondered… if you tried to do something similar again, would I even have the right to stop you? And if not, what exactly can I do? Those were the thoughts I had.”
The moment she saw the faint smile on his face, she felt inexplicably anxious, leaving no time for deep thought.
Before her mind could reach any conclusion, an excuse reflexively tumbled out.
“If I’d known you would think that way, I would have told you beforehand.”
“Really?”
At her words, Diarmuid’s eyes sparkled as he asked back.
“…Yes.”
“You mean it, right?”
His repeated questioning made her uneasy, but she couldn’t very well take it back now.
“Then promise me. Promise that from now on, you’ll discuss things with me first.”
“…”
When Lysithea hesitated, unable to answer, he slumped his shoulders as if deflated.
“Was it a lie? That would make me sad…”
“No, of course not. I’ll do that from now on.”
“Thank you. For agreeing to such a difficult request.”
As if he’d been waiting for it, he broke into a bright smile and replied. She had started this, yet she felt strangely drawn into his pace.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
“Can I hug you?”
It was because he’d made this request.
Asking for permission for an embrace they’d shared countless times before left her unsure how to respond.
“Is it not okay?”
“It’s not that it’s not okay, but…”
In that instant, he opened his arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. His warm, firm chest enveloped her.
Above her head, his low, gentle voice continued softly.
“I respect the way you’ve lived your life—fiercely, throwing yourself headfirst at obstacles, fighting your way through. You did nothing wrong. Who could possibly say you did?”
With just a few of his words, Lysithea felt as if she were being compensated for all her difficult times.
“But Ritsy, you’re not alone anymore. Give me a chance. A chance to stand with you amidst the fierce winds and rough waves.”
How could she possibly refuse? Lysithea lifted her head and met his eyes.
“Then give me that chance too. Because Your Highness is no longer alone either.”
He lowered his head, gently touching the tip of her nose with his, and winked one eye.
“I told you. You must unconditionally be on my side.”
“Because I’m the one who’s going to marry Your Highness?”
“Yes. Because we’re going to be married.”
Hearing his answer, Lysithea understood.
That even if love was a lie, the marriage itself didn’t have to be.
Perhaps, she thought, she had finally gained a real husband.
