Chapter 3
That damned Emperor—I cannot fathom why Lucas Drifon placed a Duke who had long since laid down his sword at the head of the expedition, leaving behind the Empire’s excellent Knight Commander. I had thought he asked this with a sincere hope that his dear friend might forget his dead wife, but perhaps it is quite the opposite.
Perhaps he wished for Carlisle to atone for failing to protect his only sibling.
If that is the case, should I not embrace my dear friend with a heart full of gratitude? For he had allowed a sinner who committed a grave sin yet could not punish himself to instead pay a fitting price.
But it had already been nearly five days since arriving in the north, and strangely enough, we had yet to find even a trace of the demonic beasts. The creatures that rampaged through the northern region every winter seemed as though they had never existed in the first place. Could they have been buried by the fierce blizzard?
Carlisle swept back his hair, disheveled by a blizzard so strong he could not see an inch ahead.
The elite knights assembled under the Emperor’s command to subjugate the demonic beasts were exhausted by the blizzard, which was fiercer than anticipated. Having to push through snow piled high enough to cover their ankles while fighting through a blizzard too fierce to properly open one’s eyes, and the biting cold felt despite wearing layers upon layers of clothing, easily wore them down.
As the commander of the elite knight order, he could not turn a blind eye to his exhausted knights.
Fortunately, just ahead lay Hexilov, the small fief of House Platini.
They did not absolutely need to pass through here to reach the northernmost forest where the demonic beasts dwelled. However, passing through here was the fastest route.
Furthermore, if not for House Platini, there was nowhere that could accommodate twenty elite knights for a night. Though the people farmed, they suffered damage from the demonic beasts every winter, so there were not many residents settled in the nearby villages to begin with. Most residents likely had no choice but Hexilov.
Their small homes could not house even half of the knight order. To begin with, House Platini was the only nobility in Hexilov.
The problem was that the family was sly and shrewd with calculations.
Count Platini would not be staying in this place swept by blizzards, but regardless, it was the fief of House Platini.
Carlisle did not know who from House Platini was currently managing Hexilov. He did not think that person would gladly accept the elite knights with a heart devoted to the Imperial Family. But for now, there was no other alternative. He had no choice but to ask for help.
They walked through the snow for about thirty minutes before arriving at the Platini family’s villa in Hexilov. Since red-toned bricks were used as the main material for the outer walls, the villa exuded a warm atmosphere.
The villa was quite large, so the expectation that twenty knights could stay the night without great inconvenience proved correct.
Carlisle knocked on the villa door without hesitation. Soon, a middle-aged man who appeared to be a butler opened the door.
Among Helen’s daily routines, drinking tea with a book took up the largest portion. Even now, she was lightly drinking warm tea before an early dinner.
But suddenly, the door opened without a knock. The butler standing in the doorway was breathing heavily with a face full of surprise. She wondered what urgent matter could make someone recognized as the very model of a butler forget to knock.
Just as Helen was about to ask, the butler spoke first in an urgent tone.
"The elite knight order His Majesty sent on expedition has arrived."
"It seems they need a place to stay for the night. Well, the blizzard is particularly severe this year. Are there about ten of them? We can give them the empty rooms on the third floor. We should treat them to a meal as well."
The butler quietly marveled at Helen, who knew the reason for the knights’ arrival. But realizing there was no time for this, he corrected her words.
"My lady. It is not ten, but twenty."
Only then did Helen close her book. And picking up her teacup, she rose and headed toward the window.
Below the landscape painted white, she could see about twenty knights just as the butler had said. No wonder she had thought she heard signs of people outside just now—there had been a reason.
"If the rooms are too small, we should give them the first floor as well. They are knights personally selected by His Majesty the Emperor, so should we not receive them with special care?"
"You are quite right, my lady. However......"
"However?"
Because the butler hesitated, his voice was not heard for some time. Was there something he could not say?
Seeing the Imperial knights this closely was the first time since she had returned as Helen Platini. Last year as well, they had passed through Hexilov to drive out demonic beasts, but the blizzard had not been as severe as today, so they had headed straight for the northern forest. Moreover, since it was after Liandor had driven the beasts out, she had only heard word that they returned quickly without a single scratch.
Looking down from the second floor, even though the knights were standing quite far apart, the white rose emblem on the thick overcoats worn atop their knight uniforms was clearly visible. That person she longed for even in dreams had worn knight’s garments bearing the same emblem on the day he came to rescue Violet, trapped in the tower.
On the last day in the tower, Carlisle’s pitch-black hair and eyes even darker than that, which she had first met there, evoked a sense of coldness. It was natural to feel that way, as he had been called the Bloody Duke on the battlefield.
But for some reason, a trace of pity had crossed his face when he looked at Violet.
Had it been sympathy?
She did not know from what that pity stemmed, but even that she longed for. It had already been two years—so why could she not forget even a handful of memories from that day?
"Carlisle......"
The name called in a very soft, low voice became warm breath and misted faintly on the transparent window. Hoping to see even the knight order in his place, she swiftly wiped away the white fog that had formed on the window with the back of her hand.
It was when she was savoring a sip of cooled tea and gazing out the cleared window—
Huh?
Had she seen an illusion?
Otherwise, she would not have seen someone who could not possibly be in Hexilov. The one brushing back his pitch-black hair with the same hand he had first offered to Violet, exhaling white breath, was Carlisle Everett.
"......!"
The butler confirmed that her eyes were not mistaken.
"The Duke has come as well."
"Who did you say came?"
She asked again, unable to believe it at all even after seeing with her own eyes and hearing the butler’s words.
"I mean Duke Everett."
When it was certain that Carlisle had come, tea water fell onto Helen’s feet. The hand holding the teacup had lost its strength.
"My lady!"
The surprised butler hurried over, but it was after her dress had gotten wet. Fortunately, the tea had completely cooled, so she was not burned. Helen raised her hand to send the butler back.
"I am fine."
"Are you unwell? Your complexion is also quite pale."
"It is simply that someone I never expected has come, so I was a bit surprised."
The truth was, she was not fine.
The person she had desperately prayed to see again, even if only for an instant, was down there. If she opened the window and called that person’s name, he would raise his head and look up here. It might be faster to run outside. Then she could hold Carlisle’s hand and see him up close.
Helen wiped away the faint fog that had formed on the window with her finger. Below the transparent window, she fixed her eyes on Carlisle standing steadfast despite being in the same predicament as the knights trembling in the blizzard. Even seeing him faintly, she could tell without seeing him up close that the one she loved had not changed one bit.
Even so, even if she called Carlisle’s name or held his hand, he would not think that Violet, already dead, was alive. Even if she confessed that she was alive as a different person.
"If we leave them like that, they will freeze to death. For now, bring them into the villa and offer them a warm cup of tea first."
"Will you not meet them personally?"
At the butler’s words, Helen let out a short laugh and placed her palm against the transparent window.
Carlisle. Muttering his name pried at her heart more than the cold chill seeping into the window.
Honestly, she was afraid of bringing him into the villa. Not that it would happen, but she feared he might recognize her. She feared he might get angry, asking why she had left him. She feared he might reproach her, asking why she had not come to find him even though she was alive. She feared he might weep sorrowfully, asking if she had forgotten him after all.
"What use is there in meeting him when he does not even know who I am? Tell him I apologize in advance for being unable to greet the Duke because I am unwell."
"Understood."
The butler bowed his head and quietly withdrew from her bedroom.
In less than a minute, she saw the butler go outside the villa and convey her meaning. The more the butler spoke, the brighter Carlisle’s face became. He opened his lips and said something, but the tightly closed window blocked his voice.
"I want to hear his voice."
Carlisle’s voice did not belong to a tenor, nor was it unpleasant to hear. Depending on his expression, his voice felt different. When he narrowed his eyes, no matter what good words he spoke, he made the listener feel fear.
But Violet had been the exception. Before the woman he loved, he somehow brought forth a beautiful voice he did not even possess. He had even blushed and smiled as if warm water had been poured over his cold face.
"He had said her hair was beautiful."
Helen looked at her reflection in the window. She hated how her conspicuous red hair curled in thick waves. It was not the black hair that stretched straight and was considered enviable like Violet’s. How nice would it be if it were the black hair that Carlisle Everett had loved.
She combed through her red hair with her fingers, then lay on the bed and silently waited for sleep to come. The sun was setting, so night would fall soon.
"Carlisle."
When she called his name, she heard a loud, pounding sound as if her heart had been taken out and placed against her ear.
"The person you loved is gone now."
The Violet that Carlisle loved had died coughing up blood before his eyes. To tell a person who had witnessed that terrible scene before his very eyes to be happy.
"I made it impossible for you to live happily, and I am sorry for wishing you to live happily."
Now that the person for whom she had wished nothing but happiness since that day had appeared brazenly before her, greed arose to face him. Even seeing him from afar made her chest feel as though it would tear apart; facing him would be even harder to endure.
The Violet that Carlisle loved was gone; all that remained in this world was a half-formed noblewoman possessing Violet’s memories. Thus, though she knew it was impossible, petty greed did not easily crumble.
Moreover, simply being in the same villa as Carlisle made her want him more. She would not be satisfied with merely facing him, so if there truly was a God in this world who would grant one wish, she would not wish for such a futile desire.
"Please make that man love me."
So that he would love Helen Platini, not Violet Drifon. So that he would take red hair, not black hair, into his eyes. If there is a God, please answer this unfortunate person’s wicked desire.
"If you still love her, then love me with that very same heart."
Because I still love you.
Helen murmured her wish beneath the covers and shed a single tear.
Deep night came along with winter at its peak. The fire that had brightly lit the villa went out, and darkness settled.
She seemed about to doze off, but hearing the window rattle in the wind, she finally lifted her eyelids. Through the frost-covered window, a round moon was faintly visible.
She felt as though she had briefly dreamed. She had seen a woman with black hair fluttering about, smiling so prettily that dimples formed deeply in her cheeks. It was someone Helen knew well.
Violet.
Helen took up an outer coat padded with warm cotton. When she stepped out of her bedroom, only a silence that seemed to hold its breath greeted her, together with the darkness.
She pondered closing her eyes again for a moment, but Helen did not think sleep would come on this night when Carlisle Everett was under the same roof. Yes, she should at least look at the moon.
Praying earnestly with her hands together that Carlisle would be awake. Begging to see even his shadow, if only for an instant.
She could not unclasp her intertwined hands the entire way to the third-floor balcony. Yet because she knew it was too vain a hope and too much greed, she was all the more afraid.
That is, the act of facing Carlisle Everett.
She had not thought there would be anyone awake on the third floor until she climbed the stairs wearing a red-toned outer garment the color of her hair. She had thought the knights, having endured a rough journey, would have eaten a warm dinner and fallen asleep early. Because they would have to head north again once the night passed.
But there was someone leaning on the third-floor balcony, looking up at the moon.
It was Carlisle.
"......!"
Though it was deep night relying solely on moonlight, how could she not recognize his back? Had he not embraced Violet countless times with that back broad like the open sea? The warmth of that embrace could not be forgotten at all.
She had earnestly wished to see him even once, let alone be in his embrace. Yet now that the wish had come true, she could not figure out what to do.
After much thought, Helen decided to look at his back for even just a short while. The mere fact that Carlisle was before her made her chest feel full.
A few steps forward and she could reach that back. She could see his face. But she did not know if she truly should. What Carlisle wanted was surely only Violet.
Then, without realizing it, she belatedly noticed that her hand was reaching toward Carlisle on its own. At her faintly outstretched fingertips touched the shadow of Carlisle, who had rested both arms on the terrace railing.
Helen gasped in surprise and stepped back.
It was then.
A small but sharp noise shattered the silence.
The old floor creaked. It was because it was made of wooden planks. They had planned to carry out repair work once this winter passed, but what use was that now?