“Step aside.”
“No.”
“Etricia.”
“You can’t kill that maid.”
Edmund’s eyebrows furrowed sharply.
“Do you really think I can’t?”
His eyes held more sincerity than ever before.
I knew. As he said, he was capable of doing it.
That’s what made it even more terrifying.
Because I knew what he had done in the Zeder Forest.
For the sake of the group, he always cast aside his emotions, leading with strategy and cold rationality.
Maybe he had never regretted his choices before.
But this time, at this moment, I knew he would.
And that regret would create a crack.
“No matter how much you try to intimidate me, I won’t move. Would you let someone walk down a path they’re bound to regret?”
“You speak as if you’re calming a rebellious child. I understand your sympathy for the maid’s mother, but that girl is a traitor. There is no room for forgiveness.”
Did he really think I was trying to save her out of pity?
I met his gaze firmly.
“The one I want to save is you.”
For a moment, Edmund blinked slowly, as if at a loss for words. His expression was one of disbelief.
Of course. Telling someone not to kill while they’re holding a sword was absurd.
I grasped his hands, which were gripping the sword hilt. He tried to pull away, but I held on tightly.
“If killing the maid would truly ease the burden in your heart, I wouldn’t stop you. That way, the monster would die, and we’d all suffer less. But that would mean your years of vengeance would be for nothing.”
His gaze wavered.
“What ending did you imagine for the monster? Was it this easy?”
I stared at him with fierce determination.
“For me, it wasn’t. That ignorant beast doesn’t even realize the sins it has committed—the lives lost, the suffering it caused. And if it simply dies like this, it never will.”
That’s why…
“We have to make it bear the weight of its sins.”
As painfully as those who suffered.
His eyes trembled like rippling waves.
Slowly, the tension in his grip loosened. I ran my fingers over the rough bones of his hands before gently patting the back of his hand.
I took the sword from him and handed it to Tale, then signaled him to step back.
Once Tale left, Edmund shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his face with his large hand.
Haah. He sighed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling.
It looked like both resignation and silent agony.
“If I didn’t stop you, you would have…”
His throat moved as he swallowed his words.
He knew.
To destroy Lunox, which was immune to holy power, a ‘purification’ ritual was necessary. It could be done through force, but at great cost.
He knew the choice I would make.
And that he wouldn’t be able to stop me.
That our vow—to live and die together—hadn’t changed.
That’s why he tried to kill the maid and end the monster’s life. To keep me from ever being in danger.
‘Who would willingly stain their hands with blood if they had a choice?’
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked up at him. Realizing that all of this was for my sake made my chest ache as if pricked by needles.
After a long silence, he slowly lowered his hand and looked at me.
He just stared, lips tightly pressed together, until his voice, rough and low, finally broke the silence.
“There is only one thing I fear.”
“…”
“Losing you.”
“…There’s only one thing I fear too.”
“…”
“Losing you.”
That’s why we couldn’t leave each other to fight alone.
“If you use ‘purification,’ we don’t know when you’ll wake up.”
“I know. And I still choose to fight alongside you.”
Edmund’s expression twisted with anguish, his voice cracking.
“Do you really have to? This isn’t something you should put yourself in danger for. Even without your powers, I can—”
“I’m happy that I can fight beside you.”
“…”
“Did you know? When we fought Devon, I hated that I could do nothing but act as bait. I felt useless, always needing your protection.”
His eyelids trembled as if struck by a revelation.
“Etricia, I never once—”
“I know. You never saw it that way. It was just my own insecurity.”
Some of the knights disguised as staff were women. That alone had stung.
I should have learned swordsmanship—or at least archery, or some kind of strategy that didn’t require strength. Then I could have fought beside him.
I let out a bitter smile and looked up at Edmund.
His brows were deeply furrowed, his expression more pained than mine. The sight made me chuckle softly.
I reached out, cupping his cheek. As his head tilted slightly, the tears that had welled up finally spilled over, tracing a cold path down his face.
“I’ll fight for you. So you fight for me too, okay?”
Yes. We would fight for each other.
A sacred duty as the heir of ‘purification’?
Revenge for Leticia, the saint? A resolution for past regrets?
None of those mattered more than protecting the people I loved.
Nothing was more important than the suffering my beloved had endured.
Instead of speaking a hundred words, Edmund chose to hold me.
In the warmth of his embrace, I knew—I would never regret my choice, even if it cost me my life.
Tale and I arrived at the maid’s quarters.
I had given her a room where she could stay with her mother.
The separate annex where they were placed was far from the main building where Lilien and Edmund resided—where I lived.
She needed to feel safe here.
We had to show that we were allies against a common enemy, not her executioners.
That’s why I refused to let Edmund come with me.
People don’t control fear—it controls them.
I, too, had been paralyzed by Edmund’s sheer presence when we first met.
And she had sinned. How much more terrified must she be?
“Phew.”
As I let out a quiet breath, just as I reached for the doorknob, Tale stopped me.
“Do you have a way to make her talk?”
“No.”
“Should I just kill her after all?”
“What are you saying? Stay quiet.”
Of course, being one of Edmund’s men, the first thing he did was draw his sword.
Tap. Tale looked at me with a sulky gaze after lowering his hand.
“But the Count said there’s no other way.”
“He said there’s none because there isn’t.”
There really wasn’t. The only option was to use subtle psychological pressure to make her talk.
But even then, there was no guarantee it would work.
Who would easily confess their crimes and open their mouth knowing they’d face revenge?
Still, her involvement in the crime was already clear.
Even if she didn’t confess, there was a witness who could prove her suspicious behavior at the magic stone management center.
We had the maid, the monster’s weakness, so our goal was to figure out the details of their contract and find a clue about that “unconscious contract.”
I gave Tale a signal with my eyes, then immediately opened the door and entered.
The first thing I saw was the mother and daughter hugging each other and crying.
They wiped each other’s tears, pressing their cheeks together, looking at each other with deep sorrow.
Then, startled by the open door, they turned to us. The maid’s mother leaned forward to protect her daughter. Even as the maid begged her not to, she shook her head and clasped her hands in prayer.
As if we were about to harm her daughter.
From my position, having to pressure her daughter, her direct gaze felt as heavy as an anchor.
‘So that’s what maternal love is.’
As someone who lost her mother long ago, that emotion felt unfamiliar to me.
I wondered if I’d feel the same one day if I ever had a child. Thinking that, I sat across from them.
Tale gave a signal to the knights in the room, and they took the mother away.
“Ugh… Ah! Ahhh…!”
Her desperate cries begging to spare her daughter slowly faded away. I glanced at the closing door, then looked forward again.
The maid, now alone, seemed anxious and kept fidgeting with her hands, constantly watching me.
Even so, she seemed uncomfortable with her neatly arranged hair and clean clothes, which had been tidied by the other maids. She kept glancing around and lightly touched the ends of her hair.
I crossed my legs and quietly watched her. Tap, tap. I tapped the table with my fingertips at intervals, making her feel more nervous.
It’s hard to ignore auditory stimulation.
“Belle.”
When I finally called her name, she flinched.
Her eyes, which had been wandering like glass marbles through the air, finally landed on me.
