Chapter 73

– ‘He’s going to use you. Everyone will. Just because you’ve been basking in a single year of peace! After nearly twenty years, you still don’t see people for who they are, and you think you can see through a man you’ve only known for a year? There’s no one out there who’ll be on your side! You’ll die alone! You’ll die miserably at the feet of your enemy!’

‘No.’

Nerys muttered to herself without realizing it. Then, feeling her fingertips turn icy cold, she changed her thoughts in a daze.

‘You’re right.’

As if she needed to prove to someone that she wasn’t being foolish.

At thirty years old, Crown Princess Nerys died. She had done everything for the one she loved and trusted endlessly, yet not even a scrap of warmth was returned to her.

Love does not always bring reciprocation. She hadn’t dared to hope she’d be loved in return. But maybe, just maybe, it could have been better than this.

To be abandoned just as expected, to be killed just as expected… Even to have all those smiles shown over the years revealed as lies, only to relish in her misery!

The prison from that day unfolded in front of Nerys. The image of Valentin, dressed in gold, watching her stepsister’s death, resurfaced as if it were happening now.

And surely not far from there, Nellusion’s calm expression as he awaited news of her death.

What did Nellusion say when he heard she had died? She didn’t even need to ask to know. It was vividly clear.

He probably smiled at Valentin and said, “Well done.” With the same composed face he always showed whenever the foolish Nerys returned after doing ridiculous things for his sake.

“Nerys?”

Cledwyn gently called her name, as if sensing something was off.

Only then did Nerys realize she had been silent for far too long. And that her expression had betrayed her thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Cledwyn furrowed his brow and asked. It was the first time he had called her by name. His tone wasn’t particularly kind… but it was honest.

Like someone pulled from deep water, Nerys suddenly found herself able to breathe again.

“Haa, ha, haa.”

“Are you unwell?”

Cledwyn’s face hardened. He stood and placed a hand on her temple. Her pulse was pounding wildly, her pale face covered in cold sweat.

Nerys closed her eyes and growled at herself.

‘Shut up.’

The thirty-year-old Crown Princess, Nerys Vista, was dead. The one standing here now was Nerys Truydd. And just as she had done until now, she would go on changing countless futures.

So be quiet.

‘If I don’t trust this person now, what then? Nellusion’s attention on me has been growing, and it’s unsettling. I have to get Mother to safety before it’s too late.’

She’d made her decision, so there was no need for further arguments.

She whispered sternly to herself and forced her ears shut.

“It won’t do. We’ll talk later. Talfrin.”

Cledwyn gripped the armrest. Nerys could clearly see, even through her blurred vision caused by her rapidly beating heart, the faint stream of magic emanating from his hand.

From the pillar behind them came a flippant voice.

<We’ve been waiting, Master. I thought something might have happened…>

“This is no time for idle chatter. Get over here. There’s a patient. Prepare for a check-up…”

“No.”

Nerys barely managed to squeeze out her voice. Then she placed her hand over Cledwyn’s. The boy’s hand was rough from training, yet neatly shaped—and, above all, warm.

The voice from the pillar now carried suspicion.

<Nerys Truydd? Are you with her?>

Cledwyn paid no attention whatsoever to the voice, apparently belonging to someone called Talfrin.

When Nerys spoke, he looked only at her—only at her face, as if there were treasure there.

The foolish moments when her past whispered to her were over.

Nerys shook her head once more. Her drained body slumped forward, and her head lightly rested against Cledwyn’s chest.

Cledwyn frowned.

“Feels like you’ve been poisoned. No?”

“No.”

It was his way of cracking a joke. A sign that she looked okay now, perhaps.

With her face still resting on his chest, Nerys laughed softly with a sound like the wind, and Cledwyn let out a deep sigh.

“If you’re not feeling well…”

“No. A bad memory just suddenly came to mind, that’s all.”

“The memory of your classmates ruining you?”

Though sudden, the composed tone in Cledwyn’s voice made it clear he had thought about the subject many times. Nerys could tell. She let out a bitter smile.

“My classmates, the people I thought loved me… Either way, what does it matter?”

“Is your mother treating you unfairly?”

The people she thought loved her. Was there anyone else young Nerys would’ve described that way?

Cledwyn gently held her head and shoulders and carefully seated her upright in the chair. Nerys, drained of strength, slowly shook her head.

“My mother is a good person. She loves me a lot and would do anything for me. She’s a good mother.”

Vaguely, the voice from behind the pillar—Talfrin—seemed to sputter out, saying something like “I’ll be off then.” Nerys stared up at Cledwyn’s beautiful face.

Could she really trust him? Would he not use her? Would he not try to threaten her?

Would he continue to uphold his principles?

Though she wasn’t aware of it herself, her desperation had begun to leak through, etched into her face for Cledwyn to see.

“Then?”

Whatever it was that tormented her so much—if he could remove it, he wanted to. That thought surprised even Cledwyn himself. Why?

But… was there any need to ask for a reason?

The fact that he genuinely felt that way—wasn’t that what mattered most?

“Don’t ask.”

When those cold words finally escaped her trembling lips, Cledwyn thought—just for a moment—that he felt something like disappointment. But not towards her. Toward himself.

Nerys Truydd didn’t trust him.

Even though it was clear she was hiding something. Even though it was clearly something far too heavy for her to bear alone. She didn’t try to rely on him at all.

If Cledwyn had been any ordinary boy, he might have been angry at that.

But he had grown up in an environment far too harsh to trust others easily. The same was true for those who followed him.

They were people who had been constantly betrayed and abandoned by those they should have trusted most—people who had ultimately built walls between themselves and the world.

So he didn’t say anything rash like “trust me” or “tell me everything.” There’s nothing harder to believe than the words “trust me.” The only way to gain real trust was through consistency.

The highest value hidden deep in someone’s heart—revealed only when they stood at countless crossroads.

‘What is that, for you?’

Nerys was like a book that was hard to read.

Like a long novel filled with complex rhetoric that only someone already familiar with the story could follow, opened halfway through by accident and leaving you baffled.

He could’ve closed the book, of course.

‘But I don’t want to.’

So what if he didn’t know everything about Nerys Truydd’s life up to now? If he kept reading the remaining volumes, wouldn’t he eventually be able to guess what came before?

And if not—

‘It doesn’t matter.’

That’s what it meant to know someone. What you could obtain from another person’s life was only the fragments they willingly decided to show you.

Nerys just happened to have a few more hidden pages than most.

So Cledwyn chose to ignore the warnings about her, based on his own judgment.

He had already seen what she valued at a critical moment. What was there to fear?

“I’ll do as you ask. I’ll protect Madam Truydd the way you want me to.”

“You must be overwhelmed for now, so once you graduate and things settle down around you… please take my mother to Maindulante.”

“Alright.”

Nerys’s head drooped tiredly. Cledwyn knelt on one knee in front of her to meet her eyes properly. He firmly gripped both armrests of the chair.

Though she was now boxed in, Nerys’s discomfort barely showed—only as much as she allowed. As she looked straight down into Cledwyn’s gray eyes, she somehow felt overwhelmed.

Cledwyn’s eyes, as always, emitted a piercing light.

“I’m graduating this year. If I stay here any longer, those damn bastards will be waiting to tear me apart. You won’t have to wait long.”

From age twelve to nineteen, all noble children of Vista had to attend Noble Academy. Unless bedridden by serious illness, nobles couldn’t easily leave.

As a noble of the highest bloodline and someone the Imperial Family would never want to let go of, the only way for Cledwyn Maindulante to leave early was one thing.

Early graduation—a system that technically existed, but was so rarely used it might as well not exist.

To use it, a student over eighteen had to be certified by five or more instructors from their department that there was nothing more they could teach.

At higher levels, where only prideful and meticulous teachers remained, this was nearly impossible.

But Nerys knew Cledwyn would succeed. She had already seen that future. She nodded, and with a determined look in her eyes, she said,

“I’ll do the same.”

She would be recognized. She would leave with her head held high. Nerys had decided that long ago. She had no intention of staying in this filthy place for long.

But until now, she hadn’t decided where to go after graduation.

Now, finally resolved, she asked in a whisper,

“Then… can I come to you?”

In that moment, the anxiety she had barely managed to suppress exploded within her again.

He’ll betray you. He’ll use you. You’ll die at your enemy’s feet… Every dreadful possibility swirled in her head in the voice of thirteen-year-old Nerys.

Right now, Cledwyn only knew her mind. But what about when she turned eighteen?

Everything might change by then.

‘But it’s worth walking toward.’

A diligent and slightly awkward seventeen-year-old boy. If others heard Nerys describe Cledwyn Maindulante that way, they’d think they misheard her.

Some might even laugh and say she’d finally lost it.

But Nerys saw herself in him. The version of herself from a past life—who chased after the only flicker of hope she could grasp before the final betrayal came.

So it would be okay.

Nerys, who had suppressed her emotions with unyielding reason for so long, looked into Cledwyn’s eyes again. And upon seeing the light within, she felt at ease.

She knew what kind of light it was. A light only visible in a rare few. One that came from pride in their principles, and the resolve to uphold them no matter what.

Though… she had never seen one burn as intensely as his.

‘…I can trust him.’

“Come to me. As soon as you graduate.”

Cledwyn grinned. Nerys, looking at his face, also smiled faintly without realizing it herself.

The boy gently lifted her small hand, as if asking for permission. And as their eyes met, his lips touched the back of her pale hand.

His warm lips felt like a brand.

“I’ll leave the chair here. I’ll register your mana to it, so if you need to contact me, just send your mana through the right armrest. You can use magic, right?”

Every noble at Noble Academy took magic classes, so it wasn’t really a question—just a reminder. Nerys nodded.

“I’m not that skilled, but I can at least do that.”

Cledwyn smiled, his eyes curving gently.

“When I graduate, this seat will be yours. For you alone.”

“…Thank you.”

This had been a place that supported Nerys through her previous life. Being formally granted access to it by its original owner didn’t feel bad at all.

Cledwyn kissed the back of her hand once more. Unlike the brief brush before, this time his breath lingered.

“Let’s get along from now on.”