Chapter 43
Now, Cyrone truly had no one left by his side. What if it wasn’t Elia? What if even she abandoned him?
“Cyrone.”
At that moment, Elia’s quiet voice cut through the space between them. She sighed deeply, almost without meaning, and spoke calmly.
“I’ve stood by Your Highness’s side for ten years. What I can do ends here, no more.”
Even if Elia someday lets go of Cyrone’s hand, she prayed silently that he could hold on strong enough. Her voice grew firmer and almost harsher.
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
Cyrone’s face turned pale, as if struck by a storm. Shaking his head like a madman, he bit down on his lip until it nearly tore and muttered.
“No. Never.”
He slammed his chest in an effort, trying to crush his broken heart. What was this pain? Why did it hurt so much? He had never felt anything like this before.
Even when raw flesh was torn from his body, it hadn’t hurt this badly. He would have preferred his limbs being cut off and blood spurting out.
“Never, never, never…”
The strange feeling squeezing his heart bubbled up like boiling water. He felt like he might go mad at any moment. For a fleeting second, madness flashed in his eyes. Even when he stood over hundreds of enemy corpses, or when he stepped on graves returning to the capital, he’d never felt such torment.
“What do I do? You won’t listen at all—should I just kill you? Huh? But if you’re gone, how will I live?”
His eyes, flickering with rage, relentlessly pursued Elia. His desperate voice spoke volumes. Cyrone was begging with all his might. Elia knew this well. But still, still—
Elia sharply turned away from her aching heart and said coldly.
“Your Highness, I am no longer someone you need.”
It was as if she denied the ten years they had spent together. At that moment, Cyrone’s wildly trembling eyes suddenly froze.
“No longer, need?”
Cyrone muttered to himself in disbelief. Where he had broken down, rainwater pooling like blood gathered.
“No longer needed?”
The sun was setting. Cyrone stood bathed in the twilight, a figure painfully beautiful. Elia felt as though none of this was real.
“Why do you say such cruel things, Elia?”
He laughed low and bitter. Even as he raged in madness, hearing Elia speak so coldly filled him with unbearable hatred. He hated her with all his being.
Slowly, Cyrone stood up, filling Elia’s entire view.
“Your Highness!”
He flung the umbrella Elia held onto the floor. With a splash, rain poured between them like it had been waiting. Closing his eyes briefly, as if to regain composure, Cyrone silently stared at Elia.
“So. What will you do if I say I don’t need you?”
Cyrone took a step toward Elia. Between them, the wet, sloshing sound of the rain echoed.
“Cy… ugh!”
Elia tried to step back, but Cyrone gripped her slender neck tightly. He pulled her forcefully closer. Slowly, he stroked her cheek and spoke.
“Did you really think you could end this now?”
At that very close moment, their eyes locked, and Elia saw it. Cyrone’s gaze was half-lost in a daze.
“Elia, you really need to pull yourself together.”
The ill-fated relationship was only just beginning.
* * *
“Let go of me!”
The rain poured fiercely without any sign of stopping. Elia’s voice rang out through it. But Cyrone didn’t stop walking. Elia was dragged deeper into the castle, her whole body drenched, the damp, salty scent of rain and wind filling the air.
“Cyrone!”
Elia shouted again. Only then did Cyrone stop. Barely suppressing his shattered emotions, he slowly turned to face her.
“…!”
Elia froze. Facing those sharp, glass-like eyes, long-forgotten memories flooded back. She found herself asking without realizing.
“Was it you?”
Yes. Those eyes, the blue ones that tore away the illusion of love to reveal the truth. The same eyes that had bound her so relentlessly that day. The small figure standing in the rain outside the mansion…
“Finally remembered?”
Cyrone answered with a low laugh. He showed no sign of surprise or hesitation at her sudden question.
“I wish I could forget everything like you.”
He murmured in a voice too calm for the moment. It was as if he had been preparing for this very instant for a long time.
“But I can’t forget everything like you. I still see your face in my dreams.”
Cyrone gently brushed aside Elia’s disheveled hair and moved close to her ear. Their bodies’ warmth clashed fiercely.
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