Chapter 151
He gripped Arzeletta’s hand firmly as she backed away as if to flee.
The impatience he had suppressed finally reared its head.
“Give me your permission.”
She finally realized.
“Give me your permission, Arzeletta.”
What a terrible thing she had done.
Arzeletta shook her head again. At her terrified, light-green eyes, Ragnar pressed his lips together. But he did not let go of her hand.
He might have been too hasty. He knew she was surprised. He hadn’t expected this selfless maid to readily accept his proposal.
Nevertheless, the sight of Arzeletta shaking her head as if to flee from him deeply discouraged Ragnar.
Arzeletta’s rejection was more agonizing than his vague expectations.
He calmly breathed in and out. He did not want to scare her further.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. So…”
“No. Please don’t…”
Heavy tears flowed down Arzeletta’s face. At those tears, Ragnar stiffened as if caught off guard.
Ragnar was no fool. What was making Arzeletta cry now was not joy.
Ragnar’s hand wiped Arzeletta’s tears. She shook her head even at that moment. At her gestures, which seemed to genuinely reject him, Ragnar’s eyes slowly darkened.
“…Why are you trying to run away?”
She had made this man sincere.
This strong, stubborn, great knight who had no wavering in his choices.
Arzeletta recalled the laws that had clung to her all her life. The heretical fairy. The wicked beings who taint holiness, cause people to betray God, and corrupt saints.
The warnings that had been handed down countless times in Impellias’s doctrine were proven to be absolute truth.
She was now the very wicked and inauspicious fairy the priests had talked about.
Arzeletta’s heart was torn apart by the despairing eyes of Ragnar as he looked at her. It truly felt as if someone was taking out her heart and tearing it apart with their hands.
…And even at this moment, Arzeletta knew.
That even if she was in pain because of Ragnar, and even at this moment when she felt a tearing agony, her heart belonged to another.
That no matter how much she grieved for him, there was ultimately no sincerity to repay him with.
That Arzeletta could not give back the one true sincerity Ragnar sought to obtain by sacrificing his entire life.
Because all of it already belonged to another man.
None other than his own successor, whom he had accepted and raised.
It would be a perverse and dirty betrayal that Ragnar, for whom morality and law were the entire world, could not even dare to imagine.
If only she could give this man love, even just a sincere love, Arzeletta felt she would be able to make any sacrifice.
“Arzeletta.”
A voice that sounded as if it would collapse at any moment was heard.
Wise Yoseph’s words were right. She shouldn’t have been so swept away.
She shouldn’t have let herself fall into this person’s arms so willfully, clinging to him and acting spoiled… she shouldn’t have felt that sweetness.
Everything, from the way she felt like crying at the Lord’s kindness, which had always been so terrifying, to the way she had arbitrarily thought his tall, firm back looked lonely.
Even though she clearly saw the torment deepening in this man’s eyes, a man who was honest before God and his life, she should not have pretended not to see… she should not have done such a thing.
“…Please.”
His voice was so deeply submerged. It was a sight of the Lord she had never even imagined before.
Arzeletta resented Ragnar. It would have been better if he had been like other Lords. As Yoseph said, if he had been a Lord who took and discarded a powerless maid as he pleased. If he had been a common powerful figure who only amassed his own wealth without any interest in the lives of his people. Arzeletta would not have felt any guilt for her actions.
To have him plead so desperately for her permission, clinging to her like this… when she would not be able to resist even if he were to crush her with force.
“…Arzeletta.”
It was a sincerity she would never have known if she hadn’t embraced him in order to harm him.
These were things she would have never known until her dying day if she had not pressed her skin against this man, if they had not embraced each other in a state of confusion, if she had not felt a burning pity and desperation.
If none of this had happened, Rzeletta would have forever seen Ragnar as a cruel powerful figure with ice for blood.
He would have remained a being for whom she would be able to swallow poison only for the sake of her own love, for the safety of the person she loved.
But it had already spilled water.
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