Chapter 192

Nerys was at a loss for words when the carriage came to a halt.

The half-collapsed wall, the blackened ground.

The wide field showing traces of a terrible fire was where the Duke of Elandria’s mansion once stood. Now, not a single brick remained intact.

“……This is…….”

She had indeed seen flames and smoke rising from the mansion when she escaped. She had even felt a strange pleasure at the sight, despite being dragged away.

But she had never imagined it would truly burn down like this. That ‘Elandria Duchy’.

She always thought they would stand proudly in this place for a thousand, ten thousand years.

Sitting beside his wife, Cledwyn Maindulante—who seemed to take this as a legitimate excuse to hold her close and whisper into her ear—spoke cheerfully.

“When the fire first broke out, the duke happened to be in such disarray that he couldn’t give proper orders.”

Happened to be? Of course not. Even if the duke had lost his mind, he had managed to give clear orders to have Nerys moved. And the knights of the ducal household were long-trained elites, perfectly capable of acting on their own. In fact, they had been holding the rioters back despite being outnumbered at first.

It was ‘Cledwyn’ who had done it. She was certain of that.

“So, where are the people of the ducal house now?”

“They’ve scattered. The duchess was at her family home anyway, the duke’s at one of his smaller estates, the son’s at his own residence after quarreling with his father, and the daughter’s gone back to school.”

Just a month ago, no one would have imagined it. The family so admired by society had shattered so completely.

Even if they reconciled one day, the memory would remain forever—the wife unable to trust her husband, the parents unable to trust their child, the daughter unable to believe in her parents’ love.

Yet even with the grand estate reduced to ashes, she didn’t feel as satisfied as she’d thought. It was sadder than expected.

To collapse so suddenly like this.

– “You know how spoiled your younger sister is. You, being the more sensible one, should understand my situation. Do as Valen wishes and don’t argue.”

– “You’re one of our family, so you must fulfill your duty. Why do you look so displeased? You should be grateful. You’re becoming the Crown Princess—it’s the greatest honor of all.”

– “Just wait a little longer, Nerys. When our family’s wish is fulfilled, you’ll also… engaged? That’s just a formality, you know that. Truth is, I…”

The words she’d once heard from the duke’s family floated back to her one by one.

Thorough hypocrites. Vile traitors. People who perfectly imitated sincerity but never once meant it.

She had believed she could be happy with them, but they never kept a single promise.

She endured the horrible life in the imperial palace solely through faith—faith that if she tried harder, maybe they’d love her.

But now she knew. What she suffered in that wretched family wasn’t discord—it was abuse.

No amount of effort from the victim could fix it.

Then came the words Valentin had spoken to her right before she died in her previous life.

– “For people like us, marriage is a transaction. Of course, it has to be to the real daughter.”

– “What kind of owner just lets his dog run away?”

Yes, Valentin. You said even a dog’s corpse had its uses.

But even dogs bite the masters who beat them.

I hope you’ve learned that by now.

– “It was Nell who got rid of your mother, that troublesome woman. Didn’t you ever think of that?”

Thanks for telling me who the real enemy was.

The Elandria mansion had burned, and that seemingly loving family had scattered.

The imperial family would handle the rest. They wouldn’t wipe the house out entirely, but they’d make sure the Elandrias could never rise again, tightening the noose around their necks.

If their so-called family could fall apart this easily…

‘I wouldn’t have clung so desperately.’

As Nerys fell silent, Cledwyn pressed his cheek gently against her forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look heartbroken.”

Of course she did. Her chest truly, deeply hurt.

She thought of the thirty-year-old Crown Princess who had met a pitiful death at the hands of her stepsister and sister-in-law. Every time she remembered her, her chest ached so much it felt like she might lose her mind. It was absurd and unjust.

Yet she had never pitied that woman as much as she did now. That foolishness that once made her so hateful now made her seem pitiful.

It wasn’t that Nerys of her past life lacked the ability to think. If someone had just pulled her out of that situation and given her even a few peaceful years, maybe she would have seen things more clearly.

But Nerys Elandria—Nerys Bistor—had never been given that chance. Her life had always been like walking on the edge of a cliff, one misstep away from a fatal fall.

“Are you all right?”

Nerys tried to say she was fine. But the words refused to come out.

One of her greatest enemies had fallen. She should have felt relief, even joy. Those same people had tried to use her again in this life—she should have felt at ease at their downfall.

But she didn’t.

“No.”

Nerys muttered blankly.

The fall of House Elandria wasn’t the end. She felt no satisfaction. There was still more left.

Someone inside her cried out as if in anguish.

‘I’m not okay.’

Yes. She agreed with that voice quietly.

Even with the burned ruins before her, she still wasn’t okay.

Why was that?

She was afraid—that maybe she was wrong to seek more revenge.

Was she being greedy? Wanting more than she deserved? Had her very sense of peace been broken?

The focus faded from her eyes. Cledwyn simply held her in silence for a long time.

When she could finally speak again, she put on a cold expression for her own protection. Then, calmly, she instructed the coachman,

“Let’s go back to the mansion.”

The carriage began to move slowly. Nerys pulled the curtain shut so she couldn’t see outside.

She moved away from Cledwyn’s embrace, and he obediently sat upright as she directed.

“Cledwyn Maindulante.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Her husband answered sincerely. Nerys raised her eyes.

“If you truly intend to stay with me through all hardships, then there’s something I must tell you.”

“What is it?”

She had already made up her mind, but saying the next words still required courage.

“There are things in this world far stranger than you know.”

“I know. If there’s something like the ability your eyes possess, what couldn’t there be?”

A brief silence fell.

Nerys didn’t know what to say. She could tell he knew about her Jeweled Eyes. She had hinted to Nellusion and the duke, and she’d used her power when escaping from Nellusion.

But she hadn’t expected him to know for sure—and to take it so calmly.

“You… knew? Since when?”

“Since the first time we came to Maindulante. And before you misunderstand—I didn’t go digging for it. The coachman overheard the innkeeper’s child talking. Apparently, when you were unwell, the child was trying to bring you medicine and happened to overhear. Judging by how casually it was said, I suppose it’s not limited to once a day as you told Nellusion.”

Nerys’s face turned bright red. So he’d known from the very beginning—since the first moment her Jeweled Eyes manifested.

All her lies to conceal her power suddenly felt ridiculous.

“You knew, but why didn’t you use me? You could’ve gained so much with my power. Every ruler has always desired it—the power to make others believe your words without doubt.”

“It’s your ability. Why would I use it? Use it when ‘you’ want to help me.”

Sunlight briefly fell on Cledwyn’s face.

His eyes softened.

“If you think it’s necessary, use it. If you don’t, then don’t.”

This time, Nerys’s face grew hot for a different reason.

Not just her face—her hands and chest felt warm too. She didn’t know how to handle the bright emotion rising from deep within her heart.

She wasn’t being used.

He knew about her Jeweled Eyes but didn’t exploit them. He had even pretended not to know until she was ready to speak of it herself.

‘Should I tell him?’

The truth greater than the Jeweled Eyes.

Her past.

Nerys’s lips parted slightly. But then she saw the burned ruins of the Elandria mansion once more—specifically, a small, charred door.

It was identical to the one in the small, cold, dark room she once shared with Isabel.

It might not have been ‘the’ same door. Dozens of others just like it could have existed. But seeing it cooled her head.

She whispered to herself bitterly. That making impulsive decisions on important matters was what made her a fool. That there was no reason to speak now—who would even believe her?

And did he really need to know how she’d lived in her past life—how many people she’d hurt, how pathetically she’d struggled and died? What kind of eyes would he look at her with then?

Her lips, about to open, closed again.

She thought perhaps she really wasn’t any good at keeping secrets.

Cledwyn asked softly, as if telling her she didn’t need to say more.

“Can I hold you now?”

She nodded. Soon her frail shoulders were gathered into his firm embrace.

The shimmering violet of her eyes slowly disappeared beneath pale eyelids.

❖ ❖ ❖

After returning home, the couple went to their respective offices. Since breakfast had been late, Nerys skipped lunch and only ate some bread before summoning Talfrin.

“You called, Your Grace?”

“Do we have anyone inside the Marquis Lykeandros’ estate? If not, can we get someone in?”

“There isn’t one currently, but it won’t be difficult. What position should they take?”

“A servant of mid-rank—neither too high nor too low. Have them approach Rebecca Shirley first.”

“Understood.”

Talfrin bowed, looking amused, and withdrew.

In her previous life, the Marquis of Lykeandros and Rebecca Shirley had married after a long cohabitation. It happened just before Nerys became Crown Princess.

Of course, while the temple recognized noble-commoner marriages as lawful, high society did not. A child born from such a union wasn’t illegitimate but couldn’t inherit a noble title—simply a commoner.

They weren’t young enough to plan for many children, so perhaps the marquis and Rebecca had married for love.

They had been lovers for years, so why marry so late? Society gossiped quietly, but no one offered a convincing answer.

Nerys had a fair guess. Megara must have opposed their marriage.

By the time Megara was marrying Colin, the marquis probably felt free to wed without worrying about his daughter’s opinion.

‘After all the benefits he enjoyed from Rebecca.’

In this life, Nerys would stir trouble in their peaceful relationship. Whether Rebecca left him out of frustration or the marquis rushed into marriage earlier than planned—either way, Megara would suffer.

‘With more reasons to feel pitiful, I hope she ends up with Abelus.’

Abelus Bistor. Megara Lykeandros.

If those despicable lovers were so devoted, then in this life, let them be together without Nerys in their way. If they can surpass Natasha, that is.

Images of the Grünehals siblings came to mind—the Natasha who had tried to kidnap and sell Nerys upon hearing of her engagement to Abelus, and Eustace, who had eagerly helped her.

But Natasha had targeted the wrong person. Nerys had never once possessed Abelus’s heart, and the Crown Princess’s role Natasha craved had always belonged to Megara.

So in this life, she thought, it would be nice to see the true rivals fight it out themselves.