Chapter 129

It was so hard for Nerys to turn him down.

He was always so confident, so capable. The person who gave her the kind of gaze she’d only imagined in dreams, offering it so heavily that she could barely hold it with both hands.

She didn’t want to reject him. But even imagining not rejecting him seemed impossible. She still felt far too small.

‘But you—’

How could he have such unwavering eyes?

Nerys sometimes wanted to ask him in her heart. Why are you so certain? Why can you believe so firmly that your life has worth? Why do you shine like that?

Like I’ve become a flower. Like you’ve become the sun. Like, if I just keep looking at you, I’ll find the strength to keep going.

Sometimes she prayed like a fool. Please, let this life and the last both be just dreams. If she could go back to the past just one more time, she would do everything in her power to make sure this man would never be hurt.

But even after a single regression, she still didn’t know the reason. Like a child’s dream, nothing could go exactly as she wished. Besides, didn’t she have her own goal?

When she faced the reality that such a wish could never come true, she wanted to cry her eyes out. She could never be the kind of person who could bloom just by looking at him, and he deserved something better than her.

So she wanted to make it clear. Let’s not hurt each other.

It wasn’t something that could change as easily as feelings. There was a fundamental, unchangeable reason, so they should both go their own way from the start.

She didn’t want him to waste his precious feelings lingering on her. She didn’t want to hurt him by making him reject her even more.

Cledwyn must know well how history treats lords with no heirs. When the reigning lord dies, vassals won’t stay loyal if they think some outsider will seize the estate.

So Nerys thought this would be the end of their conversation.

Until he tilted his head as if he truly couldn’t understand.

“How is that a reason to turn me down?”

Nerys parted her lips slightly. She thought he would immediately understand and step back, as he had always been able to figure out so much from the slightest hint.

She looked at him, disbelieving, as if to tell him to reconsider what a foolish thing she’d just said. But Cledwyn asked again.

“Did you really think I wanted this because I want children?”

Didn’t he? Nerys didn’t believe he was the kind of man who’d just want her as a mistress. She started to get confused, but tried hard to keep up.

“Of course, maybe that’s not your main reason. But you can’t be childless with your position. I have no family, and I don’t plan to be a mistress—”

“If it comes to it, we can always bring in a child.”

“You don’t have any relatives, where would you find one?”

“Do only my relatives have children? There are plenty of orphans out there. They’re all my people.”

What? The answer was so radical that Nerys felt dizzy. For a moment, she wondered if she’d been too narrow-minded.

“So you’re saying, the illustrious House of Maindulante will just swap in any child off the street?”

“Why not?”

“How can you say that! That’s—that’s…!”

If Nerys were more ordinary, she would have come up with any excuse. That it would be obvious, or that it was a scam. But who cared about the justification of the reason when you were the one doing the rejecting?

But she was frustratingly earnest, and she found herself seriously questioning if there was any truly objective reason everyone could agree on.

In the end, real power was what ruled people. Was there ever a perfect, objective, and just reason for one person to rule many just because he was his father’s firstborn?

The rights of noble houses acknowledged by imperial law? Technically, Cledwyn Maindulante should have lost his title already, if the law were applied strictly. But would that really help the people of Maindulante?

Surely, a noble with no attachment to the land would just rip it apart, wringing the people dry.

If Cledwyn, who cared about and was acknowledged by his people, could rule, what was wrong with bringing in and raising another child for the same role?

Cledwyn quickly noticed that Nerys’s mind was spinning. He smiled.

Tonight, he was certain. She didn’t hate him. She wasn’t indifferent.

No woman would look ready to cry over the future of a man she didn’t care for.

“Nerys Truydd, I am the son of the former Grand Duke, and as you know, to him, his own children meant nothing compared to his wife. Maybe if my mother had lived, he could’ve been a good father. But he wasn’t unhappy without me. As long as my mother was there, the world was perfect for him.”

Nerys had never heard of such a family dynamic.

Most nobles married to have children. An alliance was complete with an heir that carried both families’ blood.

Families bound by marriage alliances grew stronger and happier, and such couples, even if not romantic, often found a solid sense of camaraderie as the years went on.

The House of Elandria was the perfect example. The previous Duke married the daughter of the Wells family, one of the Empire’s three biggest merchant groups, and the couple had Nellusion and Valentin, satisfying everyone.

The current Duke and Duchess of Elandria were famous for their perfect marriage. But if no child had been born, that alliance would have broken down no matter how the couple felt, because both houses believed their honor rested on several children of noble lineage.

There were, of course, marriages without children, but a young, high-ranking, childless man like Cledwyn never chose such a path.

Nerys looked stunned, putting a hand to her forehead and shaking her head.

“No.”

“Are you out of excuses?”

“Anyway, it’s no good. That’s not the only reason.”

“You don’t really hate me, do you?”

“That’s…”

She couldn’t say a word.

Cledwyn, watching her, lowered his eyes and leaned in close, whispering like a breath.

“If you hate me, say so.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then that’s fine. Try it. Try to see how ‘you’ really feel about ‘me.’”

At her faltering answer, Cledwyn slowly reached out, as if asking permission, and looked into her eyes.

Their lips met. Stunned, Nerys stared at him, then trembled and closed her eyes. (T/N: HOLY FREAKING SHHHHTTTTT! My eyes literally went wide! Go Cledwyn!!!!!)

The kiss was desperate. His hot, wine-scented lips searched hers, again and again. Cledwyn leaned further, wrapping Nerys fully in his arms. Their breaths mingled in bliss through their parted lips.

When Nerys’s breath grew shaky, their lips finally parted. Cledwyn gave her lower lip a light nibble before letting go.

His eyes, flushed and bright, grew wide as he took in her face.

“Why are you crying?”

Nerys looked into his gray eyes. In their mirror-bright depths, she saw herself quietly shedding tears.

“Because it hurts.”

“Why?”

“I realized that I can’t be satisfied with just that much happiness from you.”

In a way, the test had succeeded.

The kiss left her head spinning, as if her mind had been bleached white. She almost wished the world would stop here.

But that was exactly why she realized. The biggest problem was what she hadn’t told him.

The world must not stop.

This moment would pass quickly.

She couldn’t even bear the sight of herself reflected in his eyes—how could she possibly bear being at his side?

It was a fundamental problem, one she couldn’t ignore just by saying “I love you.”

“I want you to be happy. That’s why I can’t.”

Cledwyn stared at her face for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.

“Don’t cry. I was wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not? You’re crying, so I—”

“So what?”

“I want to die.”

Her chest ached so much, she wanted to die, too. Cledwyn knelt in front of her again, like before, and took her feet in his hands. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her left ankle, as if drawn there, as if he couldn’t help himself.

Her tears stopped. Nerys, overwhelmed, covered her mouth. Her face went bright red.

He looked up at her and deliberately, slowly, let his lips slide away.

“I don’t know why you keep trying to think of reasons to push me away. From what I see, we suit each other perfectly.”

“A Grand Duke and the daughter of a low-ranking knight?”

“No, a man who loves you and the woman who gets revenge for him.”

Nerys couldn’t figure out when to lower her hand. He took her right foot and placed it over his heart, like a knight’s homage.

Thump, thump. It would be silly if she could hear his heartbeat through their clothes, with her foot on his chest—but to Nerys, it really felt like she could.

A heart so loud she couldn’t tell whose it was.

Cledwyn smiled.

“If you have your reasons, I’ll respect them, Nerys Truydd. But that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them.”

“Then what?”

“Try pushing me away with everything you’ve got. Do whatever you want. If you get a whim, you can kiss me. And then run away again. I don’t care. Want to know why?”

Nerys looked at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

“I have my own reasons for loving you, and those deserve respect, too. Even if you don’t understand, accept it. I’ll always be here.”

Wasn’t that just saying, “No matter what you say, I’ll do as I please”? Nerys was suspicious, but Cledwyn slowly stood up and lifted her into his arms, leaving her no time to think further.

“Put me down!”

“Your feet are too cold. You’ll fall if you walk. How did you think you’d wander around Maindulante in winter dressed like this?”

“You’re wearing less than I am.”

“I’m from here, so it’s not cold to me.”

Unless everyone here was born an icicle, she couldn’t believe that. Nerys glared at him, but Cledwyn didn’t care.

He laughed and strode off toward the West Wing.

“Nothing will change.”

Nerys pursed her lips in mock annoyance.

“Really?”

“Madam Truydd will worry, so let’s go back to having dinner every three days, like before. Say hi if you see me, take walks together. Don’t worry about giving me false hope. Even if you don’t, I’ll keep feeling this way.”

Can anyone really be like that? Could anyone’s feelings stay the same forever? Could anyone not grow resentful if their love was never returned?

Nerys’s head was full of doubts. But even she, clumsy with emotions, had to admit—

No matter what she said, this man wasn’t going to budge.

Moonlight filled the hallway where the candles had gone out. The long shadow of the window frame stretched across Cledwyn’s white cheek, distorting, running, and forming again. As she watched in a daze, Nerys realized he hadn’t looked away from her once.

She couldn’t help it. She nodded.

❖ ❖ ❖

By the time the frozen ice melted and the summer shade of trees fell across it,

A letter arrived at White Swan Castle bearing the name of Diane MacKinnon.

(T/N: What a beautiful chapter!)