~Chapter 45~
During the three days Bella lay unconscious, Armin investigated what kind of town Ermel was.
To be precise, he uncovered how Jacob had managed to scheme against her.
It hadn’t been difficult.
In a fief managed only by a single steward a noble had placed and then forgotten,
it was common for the captain of the guard to take bribes and release men who belonged in prison.
So common, in fact, that methods for dealing with such men had become standardized.
Dismissal was a given, and they were forced to return not only every bribe they had taken but also their entire salary as captain of the guard—before being exiled to another fief.
When his foundation as captain of the guard was destroyed overnight, Gale had tried to meet Bella.
It seemed he thought capturing her, his one remaining leverage, could help him cover things up.
Pathetic fool. He doesn’t even think of the crimes he committed himself.
Armin had prevented him from entering Bella’s home,
but he hadn’t managed to stop him from shouting and luring her outside.
“Haa…”
Even with his eyes closed, he could see it clearly—
Bella’s face, frozen in terror, as she looked up at him.
Bella was cautious, careful by nature.
The way she had freed him proved it.
She hadn’t acted rashly—she’d carefully strategized, slowly dismantled the Rohilton family,
and only when she was absolutely certain it was safe had she let him escape.
So of course she’d be wary, suddenly confronted with him after two years.
And after seeing him kill a man right in front of her, how could she not be afraid?
If I’d known, I would’ve silenced him before he could speak.
But regretting it now was too late.
In her small bed, Bella only sat huddled, repeating the same words like a parrot whenever he appeared:
[My name isn’t Bella, and I don’t know you.
I really don’t…]
The longer he stayed, the worse her condition seemed to grow.
So he left her house.
But leaving her unattended didn’t feel right either.
So he summoned a physician to examine her.
Falcon, a former military doctor, had followed Armin through blood-soaked battlefields, treating countless soldiers.
He was skilled not only with physical wounds but also with the mental scars of war.
“Your Grace.”
Falcon emerged.
Armin opened his eyes from where he had been standing, hidden in a side alley out of view from Bella’s window.
“Is the examination over?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your opinion? Does she truly have amnesia?”
“Well…”
Falcon’s lips curled in a faint, unreadable smile.
“The human brain is such a delicate organ, it’s hard to say anything with certainty…”
“The point.”
“It’s not impossible.”
“Hmm.”
Armin hummed low.
“You said her last known act two years ago was leaping off a cliff, yes?
Losing her memory from that shock—quite plausible, I’d say.”
“…”
“As you know, memory is deeply tied to emotion.”
Falcon was referring to the missing year.
The day he’d been forced to wear the cursed device around his neck.
He had lost his memories partly because of its power, but also… because he had wanted to forget.
On the surface, his life as a prince seemed enviable.
But it was all hollow luxury—he had lived under relentless pressure from every side.
His mother, though Empress, had long been barren and held little influence in the palace.
The position of consort had long gone to a concubine, whose daughter was already being spoken of as the next sovereign.
When his mother finally bore him late, she staked everything on him,
determined to see her son become Emperor and overturn her years of scorn.
But those backing the Crown Princess would not sit idly by.
After all, he was still the Emperor’s legitimate son.
From one side, threats.
From the other, crushing expectations.
His yearning to throw off that unbearable weight had manifested the moment the cursed device was fastened around his neck.
Thus his amnesia.
“…I see.”
Falcon’s point was simple.
Bella, too, had more than enough reason to want to forget.
Unlike Armin, who despite everything had never lacked materially,
Bella had lived with even less.
In many ways, her life had been darker still.
“…”
Falcon watched Armin sink into thought, a quiet smile on his face.
What he had spoken was only conjecture.
He left unsaid the guess closest to the truth:
In my judgment, she recognized you. She’s only pretending not to remember… But for her sake, I can’t say that aloud.
Bella’s fear seemed too sharp, too specific, to be only the reaction of someone facing a stranger.
She distinguished between Armin and others.
Her terror was reserved for him alone.
Falcon kept this to himself.
Because he knew what the violent man before him might do if he heard it.
He had followed Armin through campaigns; he knew his nature—
and to some extent, what Bella meant to him.
He only hoped Armin would not do something he would regret.
“So what will you do?”
“…”
“Shall I treat her, Your Grace?”
After long silence, Armin finally spoke.
“No.”
His answer, though late, was resolute.
“There’s no need to do anything.”
“…Meaning?”
“Even if Bella never remembers, it doesn’t matter.”
If you’ve forgotten everything, then you’ve forgotten.
If you remember, then you remember.
Either way, I’ll keep you by my side.
“Nothing changes.”
Turning on his heel, Armin walked away.
Falcon sighed softly, lighting a cigarette.
Armin had chosen to watch over Bella quietly.
To wait before letting his emotions spill over.
He had chased her traces even when her survival was uncertain.
Even during the lost year, though battered by hardship,
he had endured his life as a prince again only by fixating on finding her.
He would never give her up.
And in the Empire, no one existed who could stop him.
So perhaps the only thing Falcon could do for Bella
was to buy her time.
It had been Armin’s decision, his will.
And yet… why did it feel like sinking into a swamp?
It was another fortnight before I was able to step outside my room.
Not because I was being confined, but because I had burned with fever while bedridden.
Such a pitiful body.
Even when I should have been running away, I’d been forced back into bed.
I had seen Armin’s face during those days,
but more often, the physician’s.
The elderly man introduced himself as Jacob.
He examined me and gave me medicine.
Some pharmacist I am, swallowing medicine someone else prepared…
It was pathetic, but I took it.
I wanted to avoid Armin—not die.
Thankfully, the medicine worked,
and I could finally rise from bed.
So I reached for the door handle—
and saw the knights again, the ones I had seen before.
The difference was, they didn’t stop me this time.
It wasn’t until I reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped outside that I understood why.
“Bella.”
Armin was waiting at the shop door, his face lighting up at the sight of me.
Out of his armor, dressed in formal uniform, he looked strangely unfamiliar.
I stared blankly as he slowly approached,
until he stopped before me.
His tall shadow fell over me, swallowing me whole.
I shivered, shrinking my shoulders.
“For the last time, let me ask.”
“…”
“Do you truly not remember me?”
His voice was subdued, almost timid.
But I wasn’t fooled.
Sympathy was shallow. Reality was heavy.
“…Yes.”
“…I see.”
His head dropped low, staying there for a long time.
Puzzled, I looked closer—
and saw droplets falling, one after another.
He was crying.
