Chapter 74
“Sir Adrian Watford.”
Jelrak stared silently toward the door.
Something he absolutely had to take back?
Then suddenly, he recalled the pen he had borrowed from Adrian at Clem’s bookstore.
“Did he really come all the way here just to retrieve a pen?”
When Jelrak gave a small nod, his aide turned toward him.
“Your Grace, then I shall go check on the repair site.”
After the aide left, Adrian entered with a slightly flushed face.
He seemed so nervous that he even forgot to close the door completely, striding forward with hurried steps.
“Haa…”
On the way to Cygnus Castle, Adrian had agonized endlessly—should he turn back, or should he stand before Jelrak as he was now?
“No… this is the right thing to do.”
But as he faced Jelrak, seated so straight and dignified at his desk, Adrian felt a tight ache in one corner of his chest.
Was it because of the letter hidden in his breast pocket?
Or because he still hadn’t made a firm decision in his heart?
“Your Grace.”
Standing before Jelrak, Adrian bowed with composure, then raised his head again.
Meanwhile, Jelrak casually picked up the pen that was lying on the desk.
“I meant to send someone to return this, but I’ve inconvenienced you, the borrower.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Adrian shook his head, forcing an awkward smile.
In truth, the pen was only an excuse. He had come to say something else entirely.
Just a few hours ago, Adrian had committed something irreversible at the bookstore.
As he flipped through the book, whenever he saw a scene where Jelrak and Rieve spoke affectionately, he tore out the page.
Then, for quite some time, he practiced imitating Jelrak’s handwriting.
As he wrote, he grew more skilled, and eventually produced a letter that looked convincingly real.
But when he read through the finished letter, his face fell with despair, and he sank down helplessly.
“What in the world have I done?”
Looking down at the altered letter, Adrian was consumed with shame.
Crazy. Insane. Out of his mind.
No matter how blinded he was by affection, how could he stoop to such despicable acts?
Pathetic fool. Idiot.
He crumpled the letter in both hands and shoved it into his pocket.
Now that he realized the gravity of his mistake—how his actions could change so much—his chest churned with a sickening unease.
Only then did Adrian glance down at the ruined pages he had torn away, his face hollow with regret.
Though he slid Jelrak’s original letter back into the book and returned it to the shelf, the damage to its pages could never be undone.
“Judging from your expression, you don’t seem to be here just for the pen.”
Jelrak’s deep voice snapped Adrian from his thoughts.
“…That’s correct.”
If he confessed what he had done, Jelrak might punish him.
But what mattered most now was ensuring Rieve’s safe return.
Nothing else mattered.
Adrian lowered his chin, speaking with gravity.
“Your Grace, should you choose to condemn me or punish me in any way, I will accept it humbly.”
Jelrak stared blankly at the man before him, unable to guess where this was going.
In silence, he watched Adrian until the latter spoke again.
“I acted in a manner unbecoming of a gentleman. I’ve committed deeds so shameful I hesitate to even speak of them.”
“Fine, so what is it—”
Jelrak’s brow creased, impatience seeping into his voice.
“I’ve learned Rieve’s secret.”
Adrian spoke with a look of firm resolve.
“I saw the book Your Grace left behind at the store. I only meant to return it to its place for Clem, but… I couldn’t resist a vile curiosity.”
“…And?”
“And though I knew I shouldn’t, I read the letter you left inside.”
A strange silence filled the study.
Jelrak gave no visible reaction. Adrian simply stood there, like a criminal awaiting judgment.
After a long moment, Jelrak looked at him with a dry expression and asked slowly:
“You read it?”
“Your Grace raised your voice at Clem, so I sensed something unusual was going on. I was also curious about what secret the book held. And as I glanced inside… I found the letter.”
Even up until he opened his mouth, Adrian had debated whether to keep silent.
But once he began confessing, he felt oddly relieved, far more than when he had hidden it.
“If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known. So why come all the way here just to say this?”
Jelrak’s voice was heavy as he studied Adrian.
“…Because I tampered with Renata’s Tumultuous Tale. More precisely, I tore out scenes where you met with Rieve.”
At that, Jelrak’s composure shattered.
“What?”
“I didn’t want Rieve to meet you, Your Grace.”
Sweat beaded in Adrian’s clenched palms.
He had steeled himself before coming here, but facing Jelrak’s chilling gaze made his courage falter.
“You didn’t want her to meet me?”
“Call me a pitiful, foolish man if you wish. I thought… perhaps I might have a chance too.”
“….”
Jelrak rubbed his heated eyes with his hand.
He had only thought of finding the one who had thrown Rieve into confusion and into another dimension.
But now, an unforeseen obstacle had appeared.
To dare damage the book, knowing it could change the story?
“…So what do you expect me to do about it?”
Yet Jelrak couldn’t simply treat him as an enemy, not when Adrian also knew the bookstore’s secret.
What exactly was this fool of a man trying to say?
“I wanted to apologize. And… I want to help bring Rieve back here safely.”
“You want to help her return, when no one knows what hardships she might suffer there, what dangers might occur, because you altered the story?”
Jelrak could have grabbed him by the collar then and there.
He could neither forgive Adrian’s reckless act nor stop worrying for Rieve inside the book.
Jelrak himself had thought along similar lines—he had taken the book back precisely to examine it further.
“If you truly cared for her, you wouldn’t have done something so rash—”
But Adrian’s expression was eerily calm.
“I admit it. It was despicable and pathetic. But… I have an idea.”
“If it’s something I can’t accept, I won’t let it go.”
Jelrak glared at him, while Adrian continued with quiet determination.
“Your Grace suspects it as well—if a page is torn or a sentence added, the story’s flow can change, correct?”
Jelrak narrowed one brow, glaring harder.
Adrian glanced down at his own feet for a moment, then finally spoke, face set with heavy resolve.
“I wrote a sentence in Renata’s Tumultuous Tale that Adrian Watford had died.”
He dropped the words like a bomb, then calmly looked Jelrak in the eye.
“…What?”
“So please confirm with Rieve next time—whether I’m truly dead, or alive.”
“Watford, what on earth have you—”
Jelrak shot to his feet, but Adrian’s gaze sank as he thought of Rieverata.
Perhaps this adventure had begun the very moment he first crossed paths with Jelrak at the bookstore.
Whatever the result, he was prepared to accept it.
“Your Grace, if that happens, we can confirm two things. First, whether writing directly into the book here can alter the story.”
Adrian quickly pressed on, not letting Jelrak cut in.
“And second: two people from different dimensions cannot exist in the same place. If it’s confirmed that I died in the other dimension, then perhaps the me here can also cross over.”
“…We still don’t know how to travel there. And more importantly, we don’t know what consequences it may bring. What if that sentence doesn’t just apply to the other-worldly version of you?”
Jelrak didn’t finish, but Adrian understood the implication.
“Even if it means I die here, so be it.”
“…Why go that far?”
Perhaps Adrian had been waiting for that very question.
With the same flush he’d worn entering the castle, he looked straight at Jelrak.
Words Jelrak didn’t want to hear, and words Adrian had longed to say.
“I love Rieverata. I need her in my life.”
