Chapter 174

Nerys kept her eyes fixed on Kilshion as she spoke.

“Bring up the knight guarding the first floor. I want to greet him. In the meantime, you can watch downstairs to see if anyone comes. And if Nellusion returns, let me know.”

“Understood.”

Kilshion left his post, and soon a knight whose face she’d occasionally seen in the manor came upstairs. Nerys told him much the same as she had Kilshion.

The second knight was more cautious, but her calm, persuasive tone eventually won him over. Together, they went down to the first floor.

Kilshion was dutifully watching the entrance, just as she had ordered him to. Tossing her words casually, Nerys said:

“I’ll take a walk with this knight for a bit, so rest easy.”

Kilshion nodded.

Nerys stepped outside with the second knight, crossing the yard toward the iron fence.

Beyond the fence loomed a dense pine forest, dark as though something sinister waited inside. But considering the geography of the imperial capital, the forest couldn’t truly be as vast as it looked.

There were only a handful of such forests near Pelleña. Nerys picked a direction. Once she and the knight stepped through the gate, she met his eyes and said:

“Now go back. Then leave this place with Sir Kilshion and hide yourselves far away. Nellusion killed Joseph Caron, who had served him since childhood. He won’t hesitate to kill you as well if it suits him.”

“Yes.”

The knight bowed without question and returned to the manor.

Nerys took a deep breath, staring into the woods. Now all that remained was to find some safe refuge until Cledwyn came for her, once Dora had delivered her report.

“Interesting news. Nellusion killed Joseph Caron?”

The very man she had been thinking of stood suddenly at her back.

Beside him were Aidan and Talfrin, with several platinum knights at their side. Weapons drawn, they looked ready to storm a fortress.

Nerys swallowed dryly at the sight of Cledwyn’s gray eyes.

“…Yes.”

For once, she had no idea what to say next.

❖ ❖ ❖

Had she been found out?

Even as she wore the cloak Cledwyn had draped over her shoulders, escorted away by Aidan and Talfrin, that thought consumed her.

‘Maybe not?’

It was possible. After all, what he had seen was only Nellusion’s knight betraying his master and obeying her without hesitation. Not exactly normal—but not impossible either.

‘…No.’

It was suspicious enough. If she were Cledwyn, she would have arrested herself on the spot and begun interrogation.

And yet, these men simply seated her in a carriage, handed her a warm water flask, and asked if she was hurt.

All Nerys could do was answer that she wasn’t.

The carriage he’d brought was plain, without any crest, its curtains drawn tight against prying eyes. He explained as they rode.

“Last night, a sudden search began. Dora must not have had time to warn you. The men inside the Duke’s estate couldn’t reach you, so they alerted me instead. We decided to storm the mansion.”

“…The mob that attacked and set fire—that was just a feint?”

Cledwyn shrugged as if it were obvious.

“Defending favors the side with similar numbers.”

“Even if you fight, how many did you bring from Maindulante?”

Surely not many. If he’d marched in a private army, the Imperial family wouldn’t have stayed quiet. A few dozen at best. The Elandria family had as many knights—and many more household retainers.

“Enough to manage.”

“How can you say that? You’ll suffer losses.”

“Losses?”

His face hardened.

Nerys stiffened. He had always been calm, even when smiling wasn’t his way. It was always she who lost composure before him. Now it was the opposite.

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“Clever as always, Lady Truydd. At dawn, Dora staggered into my quarters, bleeding heavily, alone. She managed only to warn that you were suspected, then collapsed. I roused everyone at once. Hilbrin tried to rush to the Duke’s estate in his nightclothes.”

Nerys stayed silent. The picture was all too vivid.

“As we armed ourselves, I roused the rabble you’d pointed out to me earlier. We had just donned our armor when our spy inside the mansion sent word—the Duke was bargaining with the Imperial family. He said to strike when you were being moved. So we waited, praying that if they sold you, you’d at least still be alive.”

Indeed, striking the escort was far more rational than storming the house.

Cledwyn rubbed his forehead as if exhausted.

“Before you even reached the route we prepared, your escort carriage was already in chaos. Our contacts in the capital are few, so word came late. The Duke’s men were panicking, shouting you’d vanished. Who knew what to believe? I thought Camille’s assassins had you. My heart nearly stopped.”

His voice rose, sharp with a fury she had never heard from him.

Back in Maindulante, she could always calm him with reason. But now—he was simply furious.

Nerys’s reply came out faint.

“Luckily… it was Nellusion.”

“Don’t call it luck. I nearly went mad. I rushed about like a clown, but it didn’t matter. As long as you were alive. That was all that mattered, until Talfrin’s lead finally brought me to you.”

“You found the place even the Duke didn’t know…”

“I’ve been investigating House Elandria all along.”

Talfrin truly was remarkable. Guilt pressed Nerys down, and she lowered her gaze, fingers fiddling with the clasp of the cloak Cledwyn had fastened on her.

A heavy silence filled the carriage. At last, he sighed deeply.

“The harm was done to Ellen, fainting when Adrian dragged you along. And to Lady Truydd, who can barely eat now. And me… what do you think?”

She hated these kinds of tests. Drooping her head lower, she murmured like a mosquito:

“…You helped me, didn’t you?”

“You’re as bad at jokes as I am. But I don’t feel like laughing. My chest is still pounding.”

She saw him run a hand over his face, weary.

“…I’m sorry.”

“I regretted a million times letting you leave the Emperor’s garden. If you’d been harmed even slightly, I’d have died of rage. I’d have had no reason to go on in a world that let you suffer.”

“Don’t say that.”

It horrified her. Yet even her protest was weak.

He looked miserable. Nerys hated seeing anyone miserable because of her.

In her previous life, those she loved had grown happy thanks to her, none caring whether she lived or suffered. Only she had been wretched, and that was how it had to be.

But how did one make a man happy again, when he became miserable worrying she might be hurt?

Her shoulders slumped. Glancing at her, Cledwyn’s eyes filled with sorrow, pity, and relief all at once.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be?”

If anyone should be sorry, it was her, who had never once spoken the truth. Nerys believed that with all her heart.

“I was foolish. If I’d convinced you I could give you everything you wanted, you wouldn’t have taken such a dangerous path. You wouldn’t have had to endure Nellusion’s foul house. If I hadn’t seemed shackled by the Imperial family, you wouldn’t have returned there yesterday.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. None of that is your fault.”

“I swore to protect you, yet I failed. I should have killed Adrian when he set foot in my land.”

“Had you done that, the Imperial family would have descended upon you, claiming justice. What of your people then?”

It seemed Cledwyn wanted to blame himself for everything that had happened. But nothing he said was true.

Nerys sighed. Even without Adrian, she would have come to the capital, for revenge on the Elandria family. And she hadn’t needed Cledwyn’s help for that.

But to explain would mean confessing everything—the true reasons for her vengeance, the sins she carried even now.

‘But…’

She couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t open. And even reason said she must not.

She fell silent for a long while, then muttered:

“I’ll have to stay quietly in Maindulante for years. The Duke and the Imperial family will both claim I belong to them.”

Hiding to pursue revenge would take longer, but there was no helping it.

Cledwyn shook his head.

“There’s no need.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve graduated the academy. Your mother lives. What right do they have to decide your fate?”

“You know noble society doesn’t work like that.”

Everything hinged on appearances. Just enough plausibility, dressed up with power.

A knight’s wife claiming her daughter’s rights, while the Duke and the crown tried to seize her? No court would care, unless a powerful man insisted on it.

“My point is, you do have the right to place yourself beside a power. Then no one could object.”

“Who? Your vassal isn’t enough…”

She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.

Cledwyn smiled at last.

“Marry me. No one could claim the right to dictate the Grand Duchess’s fate.” (T/N: Smooth like butter. Cledwyn is on a roll!)