Chapter 42
After all the merchants had left and Kashien had finished preparing to depart for the capital, he headed to Arlen’s room one last time before leaving the castle.
Quietly opening the door, he saw Arlen sitting by the window as usual.
However, unlike usual, she was awake. Awake and looking out the window at the interior of Schuel Castle.
Next to her on the side table was a soup bowl, half-empty, suggesting she had at least eaten something.
A maid standing nearby went to greet him, but he raised his hand to stop her.
Even just watching her awake was satisfying enough.
To be honest, though he had told the merchants to come, he did not really remember seeing her show much interest in dresses or jewelry before, so he hadn’t expected much.
As he thought, Arlen did not seem very interested in the dresses. She probably hadn’t even registered the colors of the ones in front of her.
But she did look at the merchants’ faces. At their assistants’ faces.
At first, her gaze was unfocused and dull, as it usually was, but over time, he could sense that her eyes were gradually taking in their faces more clearly.
Her lips trembled slightly, too.
Her expressionless face was still emotionless, but unlike before—when it had seemed like empty nothingness—now it was a kind of blank expression that could almost be called a type of emotion.
“She said she was a regular customer,” he recalled.
Before summoning the merchants, Kashien had been briefed in detail about who they were. It was a clothing store she had frequented during her days as a noblewoman, and though they hadn’t had time for a full investigation, he had confirmed that there were no known risks.
She was someone she already knew, and her reaction was more to the familiar faces than the dresses themselves.
He didn’t like that someone who had so fiercely rejected him and closed her heart would react even slightly to the merchants, but at the same time, he was satisfied that the careful measures he had taken were effective.
After all, she was his. As long as she lived, she would continue to belong to him. Worrying about the exact methods didn’t matter. Like fertilizer for a flower—what it’s made of doesn’t matter as long as it makes the flower bloom.
“Arlen.”
He approached her and softly called her name, and she flinched. Ah, a reaction after so long. Even this seemed refreshing.
Yes. Over the past few months, even if she trembled and tried to escape in fear, it was far better than lying around like a lifeless doll. At least she was alive, terrified though she was.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. She flinched slightly, which he felt along her skin. Smirking, he gently sucked her skin between his lips, then moved her hand to sweep aside her sunlight-gilded hair.
“Did it make you happy to see someone you knew?”
Arlen lowered her eyes. The fear and trauma etched deep into her soul tightened around her, cutting off her breath. Gasping for air, she clenched one hand over the other.
Why is he asking? What if I say yes and they get killed? Or no, and they still get killed? What if someone dies because of me again? What if everyone I know dies?
Seeing her hands tremble, Kashien brushed her hair behind her ear and continued.
“If you say it made you happy, I’ll have them come again.”
At those words, her trembling subsided slightly, and he saw her pause, taking a long breath before slowly nodding.
The small, slow nod gradually grew larger and firmer, as if she feared he might miss even her smallest movements.
“Yes, if my lady wishes it.”
He cupped her cheeks and met her eyes. After such a long time, she looked at him—full of fear, trembling as if threatened into meeting his gaze.
She was alive.
He smiled faintly and pressed his lips to hers for a long, lingering kiss.
The note contained only two words:
“I’m fine.”
Just two words.
Plain and simple, neither stylish nor romantic, crude but ordinary.
Yet those two short words—the black ink forming them, the warmth of the hand that held the pen, carefully pondering what to write, finally choosing the words she had been longing to hear—instantly penetrated her heart, giving it life.
He was safe.
He had survived.
Thank goodness. Thank goodness.
The last image she had seen of him was him unconscious, on the brink of death. She had ridden out determined to save him, but what happened afterward, she did not know. All she could do was hope he had survived.
That desperate wish and prayer settled gently into her palm.
The piece of paper felt warm, like a soft tuft of fluff rather than cold paper.
During the brief time she changed her dress, Arlen looked at the note over and over. The short message, the handwriting, the faintly smudged ink, the creases in the paper—all touched by his breath.
As she soaked in that longing and joy, a sharp blade of reality suddenly struck her mind.
“Why… why is he still in Schuel?”
In this dangerous land.
She froze again.
She had hoped he had crossed the border. By now, she had wished he would already be gone.
But perhaps it was inevitable. From the moment she had not been executed, it had been possible he might return.
Because she was alive. Because she, who should have died long ago, was still alive.
The pain that had once left her body while she was numb now returned with full force, seizing her. Screams echoed in her ears; the floor seemed to ripple with blood, and she began trembling uncontrollably.
“Miss, are you alright?”
Frau Foer’s soft whisper snapped her back. She looked at her.
Alive.
Someone she knew, alive and well.
Looking around, she also saw Frau Foer’s assistant, Sera, carefully adjusting her dress while checking her expression—also alive.
For these people to leave the castle today, for the person who wrote the note to get out of Schuel alive, she could not just freeze and tremble.
“I’m….”
Her voice barely came out. She inhaled and exhaled before continuing.
“I’m fine.”
She had to be fine. She had to…
Her mind, at the very least, had to remain intact.
While Frau Foer and Sera helped her change and fix her attire, she stared at the note for a long while, as if trying to imprint it fully into her mind.
When she finally changed and stepped out, she tore the note into pieces and swallowed it.
She couldn’t carry it. Not a single moment of privacy was granted, not a single hair could be hidden. Burning it in a candle was a luxury she could not even dream of.
She was wary of giving it back to Frau Foer, fearing a search might happen on the way out.
After changing a few more dresses and being escorted by the duchy’s maid inside the partition, there was no opportunity to discuss the note further.
Arlen’s stamina, weakened from moving after so long and her injured ankle swelling, forced Kashien to dismiss the merchants.
Frau Foer, bowing elegantly and smiling brightly, said cheerfully:
“If what we showed you today pleases you, please visit our shop next time. We can show you even more there.”
