Chapter 05
Noctumâs funeral was held quickly. They said it was a carriage accident caused by a sudden burst of natural magicânothing to investigate.
But people who hated Charlotte spread a rumor that, because of her âparanoia about being betrayed,â she caused that magic blastâlike a natural disasterâand killed Noctum herself.
Most didnât believe it, but those who met her at the funeral thought the rumor might be true.
Her devoted husband had died, yet she didnât shed a single tear.
âAn evil woman.â
âSheâs truly mad.â
âOnly the late grand duke is pitiful.â
âWhy does His Majesty let a woman like her live?â
Colorful insults sounded behind her.
Charlotte ignored the noblesâwho were more eager to curse her than to mourn Noctumâjust as she always did, and kept her eyes on his coffin.
Her husband was lying there. Reality still hadnât sunk in; she slowly blinked. The world felt frozen.
Noctum canât be dead. Heâs the male lead of this world. How could the hero of a happy-ending novel die?
Then why are you dead?
âŠWhy you, and not me?
Something cold ran down her cheek. Tears? Moisture soaked through her thin gloves, yet the skin around her eyes felt dry and tight.
She lowered her hand from her face and looked up. As if waiting for her gaze, hard rain began to pour.
While other nobles scrambled to get umbrellas from their maids, Charlotte stood still in the rain until her clothes clung to her and showed her outline.
She could hardly open her eyes in the downpour. Through the blur, she thought she saw a faint flutter of pale pink far awayâan illusion.
When she wiped the rain from her face to see better, a large black umbrella blocked her view.
Adrian tilted the umbrella almost entirely over Charlotte and said calmly,
âHis Majesty will arrive soon. As a brotherâbefore an emperorâhe says heâll bury the coffin himself.â
ââŠâ
âYouâve done enough in your role as his wife.â
The words ârole as his wifeâ pierced her chest with cold. It really did feel like their marriage had been an act, not a life.
Ridiculously, regret washed over her now.
Before she could sort through that feeling, the emperor arrived.
Though he wasnât even wet, his face was covered in tears.
He cried hardâso sadly that he tugged at everyone elseâs tear ducts. Nobles standing behind them began to sniffle one by one.
As their soft sobs spread, Charlotte spoke to Noctum sleeping in the coffin.
âMaybe I really am a wicked woman, like they say, Noctum.â
âI canât cry. Truly, not a single tearâŠâ
They laid the coffin in dry ground they had prepared in advance, the priest finished the last prayerâand still Charlotte didnât cry.
Perhaps because of Noctumâs sudden death, the trial theyâd planned for Charlotte never happened.
Maybe it was because, with Noctum gone, Charlotte was the only one who could become head of the house.
There was no time to grieve. The grand dukeâs household bustledâpacking up the things he had used, and reorganizing everything now that Charlotte was the new lord.
The imperial palace repeatedly sent mages to collect Noctumâs secret research notes. After a week, the house looked as if it had never had a lord named âNoctum Afros.â
âThe study has many things we couldnât touch, Your Grace,â the butler said.
ââŠAll right,â Charlotte answered softly, shoulders stiff at being called âYour Grace.â She turned the studyâs door handle.
After about a week, the room felt stuffy with dust and stale air. She held back a cough and stepped inside.
Her body shook like a poplar in the wind as she walked. Her trembling hand brushed the dusty desk.
A white-feathered fountain penâhis taste exactlyâcaught on her little finger. She instinctively picked it up, then set it down, and moved around the desk to sit.
The chair, made to fit his body, was uncomfortable for herâarmrests, back, even the seat were too high.
Letting her feet dangle, she opened a drawer. One side held his pens, seals, and confidential documents.
Nothing special. But the other drawer was the opposite.
ââŠThis isâŠâ
Inside was the ribbon heâd once overpaid for at the market after being fooled by a vendor.
There was also a brooch the color of her eyes, a necklace and earrings matching his favorite cufflinks, two pairs of ringsâenough jewelry to start a shop.
In the next drawer were what looked like hundreds of letters.
Charlotte took one and opened it.
To my one and only love, Charlotte.
I know you wonât see this, but whenever I pick up my pen my heart stirsâjust as always, Charlotte.
Still, today thereâs something I must say first. My one and only love, Charlotte Daphsine Afrosâhappy birthday.
âAhâŠâ
A breath, half sigh, half awe slipped out.
She never imagined heâd been writing things like this.
She read on.
Itâs your first birthday since we married, and Iâm too excited to sleep, so Iâm writing.
I planned to write after you saw the gift I prepared, but⊠just for today, please forgive a two-page letter, Charlotte?
Youâre always so considerateâI believe youâll read this and smile kindly.
âOnly you think Iâm âkind,â Noctum.â
When would he let go of that odd fixed idea about her?
Yet, just as he said, a soft smile tugged at her lips.
Itâs our first birthday together since the wedding. Iâm so looking forward to it.
The butler told me you refused a party, and told me not to feel hurt.
But do you know, Charlotte? I was glad you refused. Because then I could celebrate your birthday alone with you, without anyone in the way.
I prepared a present too. My skills are poor, but I wanted to cook your birthday dinner.
I hope you wonât frown when you taste my cake.
Should I pray to God right now?
But to me, you are my god, Charlotteâso if I pray, you might hear, and Iâm afraidâso Iâll hold back. Just for today, please understand.
She couldnât smile brightly.
âMy lady, happy birthday! I prepared dinnerâshall we spend it together?â
She remembered words heâd once said.
What had she answered then?
âYou donât have to fuss over things like this. Iâd rather be alone on my birthday. Please leave, Your Grace.â
She hadnât even faced himâjust snapped in an annoyed voice. How much must that have hurt him?
Iâll hope to see you smile brightly after eating my cake and steak.
Lastly, thank you for spending your birthday by my side, Charlotte.
Imperial Year 844, November 11.
Blessings on the day when Heaven sent an angel to the world.
Your one and only love, Noctum Afros.
âWhy⊠why did you love me this muchâŠâ
Her breath caught; she couldnât finish a sentence.
âAh⊠ahâŠâ
A sound like a sob leaked out. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but now her whole body was shaking.
She was confused.
You didnât have to love a villain like me this much.
There was no need to cling to a love youâd have to forget anyway.
You didnât have to take my fated death onto yourselfâŠ
As if to silence her protest, tears began pouring from her eyes.
Drops fell on the neat handwriting, blurring the ink.
The only thing to comfort her was the chair built for Noctumâs body. She curled into it as if into his arms.
She stayed like that and cried for a long time.
By the time she straightened, the sun was much lower than when sheâd entered; the red light was fading.
Her face was still soaked with tears.
Instinctively, her hand picked up another letter. Instead of opening it at once, she held it for a long time, then set it down.
âIâll do it like you didâŠâ
Like you wrote one letter a day for three years, Iâll read one a day.
She wanted to share his painâlate, but still.
For Charlotte, it was both a belated regret and a harsh penance.
***
Imperial Year 845, March 23.
To my dear wife, Charlotte.
Today I saw you walking in the garden. I was afraid youâd notice me behind you, so without thinking I cast invisibility and followed. It reminded me of when we were young.
Were the camellias pretty? Theyâre your birth flower, so I planted them.
I hope that someday I can walk beside you and say this:
âI love you more than anyone.â
I dream of the day you hand me a single camellia.
Your husband, Noctum Afros.
Â
Imperial Year 845, August 1.
To my strongest of all wives, Charlotte.
First, Iâm sorry.
I heard you had a cold and slipped into your room to watch you sleep for a long time.
If only I were a more dependable husband.
Then you could lean on me.
Itâs my fault you cannot trust me.
Iâm sorry, Charlotteâ
for being a husband who can do nothing,
for being a man who canât share your pain.
Your husband, Noctum Afros.
Â
Imperial Year 846, October 15.
To my eternal wife, Charlotte.
Do you really prefer the marquis?
He ranks below me, canât use magic, speaks crudely, and is mired in scandal.
Do you know how filthy the things heâs involved in are?
Then why ride in a carriage with such a man?
I knowâI know. You said you hate everything about me.
But my love, Charlotteâ
From the moment I first saw you, I became a man who canât live without you. With you, I live.
So in this matter I can only be selfish.
I love you. I love you, Charlotte.
Even if you donât love meâŠ
Iâm sorry, Charlotteâthat I love you.
But I will never regret it.
So I wonât grant a divorce.
Your husband forever, Noctum Afros.
đ
No matter how many times I’ve read this, it still leaves me hurting. like experiencing multiple heartbreaks at once. Im literally broken for Noctumđ
I know⊠but I love that this is fresh with FL regretting her behavior