TTMLPTWW – Chapter 137

That moment, footsteps echoed nearby.

“Did Princess Cynthia already leave? She really is one lucky woman.”

It was Capitano’s voice.

Helene barely managed to lift her head, and he crouched to meet her gaze.

The man who always wore a warm, smiling face was now staring at her with a blank expression.

Yet Helene didn’t curse or blame the one behind it all. Instead, she let out a faint laugh and asked,

“So, after all that toying and using me, you’re here to save me?”

“No. I came to save Princess Cynthia. And I’d rather not have you suddenly repenting and spilling the truth. The one I wanted was the real princess.”

He gave her a cruel truth in place of a sweet lie.

Helene clenched her fist, grinding the gravel into her palm.

“So the liar finally speaks the truth. Don’t say anything else. Just go. I’d rather die a princess than be executed as a fraud.”

“Most of it was a lie. But when I said you were as beautiful as a silk viper, I meant it. I like snakes.”

As her gaze trailed up from the serpent tattoo on his wrist, Helene’s eyes flew wide. His hair, once black, now gleamed silver-grey like the frosty silver of dawn.

“You’re Esatain?”

He calmly lowered his eyes and nodded.

“Yes. My goal was to destroy your father and your family.”

So you were that Esatain boy you once told me about—the one who became a war orphan.

You said your mother died because you couldn’t afford her hospital bills after the air raid.

The image of a young boy waiting in vain for his father to return surfaced in her mind, and with it came an emotion she hadn’t felt before.

She looked into his golden eyes. Cold and unfeeling as they were, somehow they felt warm—like sunlight.

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

So she chose to return his kindness—the same kindness that had shattered her.

“Since you told the truth, I will too. I always knew you were lying—but your lies were so warm, I couldn’t help but believe them. You were the first person I ever responded to with my heart, not my head.”

She recalled Count Queensguard’s words—that strong feelings make you blind.

Following her heart had been her first act of rebellion, her first taste of freedom in a world where everyone else was a rival.

And then, suddenly, it clicked.

Ah. So that’s why.

Why Brigadier General Vicente never so much as flinched no matter what anyone said about Cynthia, and why he believed in her so absolutely.

At least your destination is a sunlit field of flowers. I’m happy for you, Brigadier General Masera del Vicente.

“Looks like this is goodbye.”

Still crouched, he spoke in a flat voice as he looked at her.

To the one bidding her farewell, Helene opened the hand she had kept tightly clenched and held it out.

“Will you tell me your real name?”

He stared quietly at her outstretched hand, then removed his glove and took her cold fingers in his.

His eyes were icy enough to burn, but the hand holding hers was warm.

“Markiel.”

Crack—

The ground rumbled again, and stone dust began to fall.

“Farewell, Markiel.”

Helene smiled brightly at Capitano, blood trickling from her lips.

“Goodbye, Princess.”

Their hands, once clasped, slowly came apart. Helene gently closed her eyes.

* * *

I barely managed to crawl my way through the wreckage, only to stare blankly at the entrance now blocked by a collapsed heap of concrete.

“This was the only way out…”

Are we all going to die here?

Everything was shrouded in darkness. The air was thick with smoke and dust, so much so that I could barely see in front of me.

“Please! Someone help!”

I screamed, my throat raw and burning, but there was no answer—only silence.

My legs were about to give out from the sheer terror and dread.

“Someone’s trapped! We need rescue personnel! Is anyone out there?!”

But no matter how loudly I shouted, all I got was the echo of my own voice bouncing back at me.

Clinging to my fraying sanity, teetering on the edge of a trauma-induced panic, I screamed out.

“I hate this—so damn much!”

Don’t ruin my happy ending!

“Just think of it as a play. This war, this pain—it’ll all end someday.”

I tried to stay calm, recalling my sister’s voice—but in the end, I crumpled to the ground, clutching my head.

Terrible memories from my past life clawed their way back in, whispering that it was time to give up.

“What am I supposed to do…”

“Brother, why is it always me who survives while everyone else dies?”

Tears began to fall, soaking the cracked ground beneath me.

Then, a voice broke through—sweeping the misery aside.

“They say there’s spring over there. Jealous, right? I’ll stick a spring flower on a postcard and send it to you later. You know, they say you should put flowers on things for someone special.”

“The Princess is someone warm, like sunlight.”

“I don’t want to be the husband pretending to be kind anymore—I want to be the real thing.”

Still sniffling with my head bowed, I clenched the hand pressed to the ground.

I’ve lived through two lives, and there are so many people I still love.

So my happiness… it was never just a play.

Grief is just part of the journey to learn what true happiness means.

“So get up again, okay? Be strong, little one.”

The voice of my brother in uniform rose from memory and helped me back to my feet.

My luck was never just for me—it was a mission to save someone else.

Even if I was a uselessly lucky survivor who always failed to save others, that truth never changed.

“Maybe… it was the choice to save others that kept you alive all this time.”

My sister’s voice gave me the strength to move again.

I stared at the crumbling wall, where stones were beginning to fall and fresh cracks were spreading.

Clang—!

A directional sign with a painted arrow fell right in front of me.

I stared at it for a moment, then tore a piece of my skirt and used it to cover my nose.

And without hesitation, I plunged into the smoke, running in the direction the arrow pointed.

Tears streamed down my cheeks—but I didn’t care.

* * *

“If Cynthia dismantles the monarchy after ascending the throne, do you really think the Lumantis Empire, which wants to preserve the absolute monarchy, will just sit by and watch?”

That was what Count Queensguard had said when he came to the official residence after his recovery.

“Just like how they used Helene to poison me, things will only get harder here, where both the Organization and the People’s Liberation Front are breathing down your neck.”

The Count was emphasizing that the two of them—Masera and Cynthia—could only ever bring misfortune to each other.

Masera, seated across the table from him, said nothing and let out a faint sigh.

“I’m well aware.”

“I understand your duty as son-in-law who married the Princess, but my daughter’s life comes first.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Count Queensguard suddenly turned a cold gaze on him.

“Brigadier General, do you still resent Princess Margarita, who handed your mother that necklace?”

When Masera didn’t immediately respond, the Count studied his face carefully and continued.

“Princess Margarita died at the hands of the very leader of the Organization that killed your mother—and I was the one who killed that leader. I leaked the intel that lead you to kill him.”

“Are you talking about Blake?”

Masera spoke, sensing the hatred and madness begin to cloud the Count’s blue eyes.

“That bastard was a noble of the Defeated Empire. He hated the Esatains so much that he murdered the Duke and Duchess and covered it up as a train accident.”

The Count paused briefly before continuing.

“But in some twisted turn of fate, he ended up falling in love with an Esatain woman held in an internment camp.”

The Count explained that Blake had entered the Republic of Rutemia as a spy under orders from the Imperial Family, all in an effort to protect his wife and their child—and that’s why he’d killed the royals and Princess Margarita.

“…That’s the curse of love—irrational and relentless. A brutal chain reaction. Now, his son has begun to move for revenge. Doesn’t matter who started it anymore. Grudges and revenge have become the only reasons for living. It’s pathetic, really.”

After leaving behind those ominous words, Count Queensguard departed, and Masera, now alone in his office, found himself looking out the window.

He would sometimes glance toward the garden to see Cynthia and Eugene playing—but today, the silence in that space felt unusually heavy.

“……”

Masera thought of Cynthia’s radiant smile.

If he were to lose her, he would fall into that same vicious cycle and become no different from the rest of them.

Just then, lost in thought, the door to his office burst open—without so much as a knock.

“Brigadier General, something terrible’s happened! There’s been a terrorist attack at the detention center!”

Captain Declan came rushing in, panicked, and Masera immediately rose to his feet.

The Captain’s face was pale, drenched in sweat.

“The explosion leveled the entire detention center… and… well…”

Masera’s face went rigid as he suddenly remembered that Cynthia had gone to the detention center today.

“Princess Cynthia happened to be visiting her sister at the time…”

The moment those words reached his ears, Masera’s eyes darkened into a deep, stormy blue, and the uniform coat in his hand slipped to the floor.

It was as if every emotion and every ounce of confusion had surged in at once to fill the silence.

His lips, previously parted in a moment of vulnerability, pressed into a thin, hard line.

Time seemed to stand still around him before he finally moved his lips to speak.

“Who did you say was there?”

“P-Princess Cynthia. Rescue operations are currently underway, but with the secondary collapse after the blast… they say there’s almost no chance… anyone survived.”

His voice trembled violently, unable to speak the words as a clear death announcement.

By comparison, Masera stood completely still, his face devoid of any expression.

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