I Married the Mad Duke Who Killed My Husband - Chapter 93

The mood when leaving and returning was vastly different.

But regardless of the mood, the most important thing was seeing Asilia again, so Cassion increased his speed.

“Cassion!”

As if her feelings were no different from his, he could see Asilia running towards him in the distance, pushing past the knights trying to stop her.

Reflexively, Cassion was about to embrace her but hesitated, remembering his appearance covered in dirt and blood. However, she was faster, throwing her whole body at him. It was such a forceful hug that it made a thud sound.

“Asil! Are you oka—”

“Are you okay?! What’s all this blood?! You said you could win this battle with your eyes closed! Why do you look like this? Why is the atmosphere like this?!”

“Asil, Asilia. Calm down.”

“No, this is not a situation to be calm about!”

Cassion missed his timing to speak, taken aback by Asilia’s actions as she pulled at the hem of her dress to wipe the blood from his exposed hands and face.

He had something important to say.

Even in this situation, her touch as she worried about him with a pale face felt so good, and on the other hand, he was concerned about looking too dirty and unsightly. His words got jumbled like an idiot.

“Do I look that bad? Wait. You can stop wiping. There’s no blood of mine, Asil.”

“…Ahem. Your Grace.”

Now, there was hardly any clean part left on her dress. As he gently stopped Asilia, who was vigorously rubbing her cheeks with what little white area remained, and asked quietly, the knights standing behind gave him a look as if to say this wasn’t the time for such questions.

But even as the knights collectively coughed as if they all had tuberculosis, Asilia paid no attention. It was indescribably enchanting to see only himself reflected in those beautiful lavender eyes.

“If it’s not your blood, why is there so much splatter?! Did someone get sliced up right in front of you?!”

“…It was almost like that, Duchess.”

“Without that happening, how could you be covered like this… Huh?”

“Well… His Grace will explain. We’ll take care of the rest.”

As the knights gave him a look that seemed to say ‘Just go somewhere private like a tent and explain the situation’, Cassion glared back at them, making them avert their gaze.

However, given the nature of the situation, he did need to inform Asilia and return to the imperial palace quickly.

“What on earth… Oh. Oh! Lorang! Isn’t that Lorang?!”

But while Cassion was hesitating, Asilia, who was turning this way and that to assess the situation, spotted Lorang being supported in a dazed state from behind.

“Lorang! How are you here? I was worried about—”

“Asil.”

As expected, she seemed to have been somewhat worried about him too and tried to approach Lorang with a sigh of relief. But he wasn’t in a mental state to have a proper conversation with Asilia right now, so Cassion carefully blocked her way.

“…Cassion?”

“Let’s go into the tent first. I’ll explain everything.”

“Why is the atmosphere really like this? I’m starting to get scared. Nothing’s gone wrong, right?”

“There’s no need to be scared… It’s just become troublesome.”

“Even that sounds scary.”

As he gently turned her by her slender shoulders towards the tent, blocking her view of Lorang and what was being carried behind him, she looked up with an anxious expression.

He was grateful that she didn’t rush him and obediently allowed herself to be guided into the tent.

“Now, tell me. It doesn’t seem like we lost, but why does the atmosphere feel like a funeral?”

“…It’s similar. We’ll probably be holding a funeral soon. You really seem to know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know, so stop being vague and explain what happened and why Lorang is like that.”

With her hands on her hips, she looked incredibly cute, and scary. But her proactivity was not to be underestimated, so if he hesitated any longer here, she would surely rush out and grab any knight by the collar, shaking them until she got an answer.

“As you said, we didn’t lose. The battle was our complete victory. Just the ending got a bit messy.”

“I told you not to beat around the bush.”

Her gently downturned eyes suddenly sharpened. Before her patience ran out, Cassion quickly continued with his explanation.

“The First Prince, seeing his defeat was imminent, took his own life.”

“What?!”

“With the commander dead by suicide, the remaining soldiers were… well, a disorganized rabble. From the start, they were less the First Prince’s soldiers and more people from the Empress’s family trying to use him. He stabbed himself in a vital spot before we could do anything.”

Thinking back to that moment, Cassion’s brow furrowed involuntarily. What an irresponsible action and conclusion. The First Prince had chosen the easiest way out.

The stubborn First Prince, who had insisted only on status and bloodline, turned out to be an illegitimate child, and despite committing a rebellion with no chance of victory, he completely betrayed even the few people who had followed him solely for his sake.

“…He died? By suicide?”

“And while we managed to rescue Lorang, who was being held hostage by the First Prince, seeing his son die before his eyes must have been quite a shock, even without any emotional attachment. It’s probably best to leave him alone for now.”

“Good heavens. He really was… a pathetic person. To escape in such a way.”

From the start, the soldiers and knights who could flee had already escaped, leaving only stragglers who had missed their chance. What could be done about the First Prince’s suicide?

Cassion’s soldiers could only awkwardly approach and restrain the enemy troops who stood dazed, unable to believe the reality.

‘…What? What is this…? Is he dead?’

‘…’

‘Really? He died just like that?’

‘Don’t go near him.’

And it wasn’t just the First Prince’s soldiers who were stunned – Lorang, who had fled behind Cassion thinking he was being attacked, was in the same state.

Even after falling when his legs tangled while trying to shake off Cassion’s restraining hand, he crawled on his knees toward the First Prince who had fallen so futilely.

‘So, now… Rather than living as my son, as my blood, he’d rather die, is that it?’

‘…He might have wanted to avoid the fate of a traitor.’

‘Hah… No, that can’t be. That can’t be. With his eyes wide open? Ha!’

The words of comfort slipped out unconsciously because Lorang’s expression was as empty as that of the First Prince who had died with his eyes open.

It wasn’t about blood ties or anything like that. It must have felt like his very identity, his sense of self, had been denied.

“Cassion, are you alright?”

“What would I have to not be alright about?”

“Still… I want to make sure you’re really okay. So this is all the First Prince’s… Ah, um. We should both change clothes first. Turn around.”

“What?”

“I have spare clothes I received earlier. You just need to take off that armor and put on spare clothes, right? If the First Prince is dead, we need to get to the imperial palace quickly. Let’s continue talking while changing.”

“What?”

“I said turn around! We don’t have time to repeat ourselves!”

While Cassion was doubting his ears about what he’d just heard, he quickly turned around when he saw her loosening the strings at her chest.

The disgust and contempt that had filled his mind toward the First Prince until just moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by a bright red flush. Or was it pink? The clear sound of rustling clothes being removed behind him pierced his ears.

“You brought the body, right? Even though he’s an illegitimate child and a traitor, he’s still of the Empress’s blood and lived as the First Prince, so we should take him to the imperial palace.”

Meanwhile, his limbs, sensing he’d be in trouble if he stood still alone, started changing clothes on their own. Cassion couldn’t tell if it was his shirt or his vision that was pure white.

Right now, not in a mansion but in a hastily erected tent on a battlefield. Just the two of them, backs turned. Taking off clothes…

“Damn it.”

“I understand. This situation really turned ugly. How the Empress will react…”

Though all he could see was the tent’s fabric, he cursed while squeezing his eyes shut, and Asilia, misunderstanding his curse, continued rustling as she apparently changed clothes.

He had thought the First Prince’s rebellion had ended somewhat anticlimactically compared to previous wars, but the real battle was elsewhere. Cassion suppressed his emerging breath as he practically tore off his sweat-soaked clothes.

“Ah, we don’t need to call a carriage when we go. I think I’m quite good at riding horses now. I’ll ride alone. By the way, are you done changing? I’m finished.”

“Don’t even dream of it, Asil.”

This time, Cassion’s eyes snapped open for a different reason as he turned around.

“…Wow.”

Unlike Cassion, who had removed all his armor but only changed his lower garments, Asilia was perfectly clean in her new attire as she uttered an indecipherable exclamation while looking at him.

“There might be remnants of the First Prince’s forces harboring grudges nearby, so even if you ride, you must ride with me.”

“Ah…”

“Asil? Are you listening?”

“Your chest seems to be speaking.”

“What?”

“Are you using your looks to threaten me? If it’s this kind of threat, then… then…”

As she winked one eye and lightly touched his bare chest with her palm, Cassion quickly pulled on his new shirt, remembering he was in the middle of changing.

For some reason, she was covering her nose and mouth with her small clenched fist, wearing a serious expression.

“I’ve seen it before, but never this close. That move was very nice.”

“…Asil. It wasn’t intentional…”

“Hmm. No need to explain. I’ll ride with you.”

He had worried about how she would react to the First Prince’s death, but seeing her nod with that indecipherable expression… He couldn’t help but laugh, though it didn’t fit the situation.

This wasn’t the time to be laughing like he had a hole in his lungs. Though the war was over, the aftermath would be quite troublesome. However…

“After visual comes tactile, huh? I’m tired, so can I lean on you while we ride?”

It was hard to stay serious when faced with such a lovely and playful expression. Asilia was always like a storm – intense yet vibrant.