Chapter 53
To Elia, Rias was her fiance, the person she was supposed to spend her life with. But ironically, Rias was not the one Elia loved. Rias, too, understood her feelings better than anyone.
Elia had been thinking lately about how far this relationship, which had never been normal from the beginning, could go.
“I suppose you don’t trust your father… I mean, Duke Reiffers.”
Rias muttered to himself, seemingly lost in thought, perhaps recalling what had just happened. His dark, sinking eyes were unsettling as they flickered.
“Not so much that…”
Elia shook her head. She wanted to give some kind of answer, but the right words didn’t come to her. In fact, Elia herself wasn’t sure what exactly had driven her to block Reiffers back then.
Had it been simple distrust? Or fear? Worry? Or perhaps…
“Or maybe you just love Cyrone too much. Even now.”
Rias muttered those words, and then clenched his lips tightly. His words were distorted, and his subdued voice felt strangely familiar. His back was turned, and the light partially obscured him, so Elia couldn’t see his expression.
Elia, gathering her tired voice, called out to Rias. She didn’t want to keep repeating these meaningless questions and answers with him.
“Then what about me?”
Rias, who had been staring out the window, slowly turned his head. When his face finally emerged from the shadow, Elia flinched.
If Cyrone was dazzling and captivating, Rias was neat and composed. Despite the stark contrast between them, they occasionally seemed strangely similar.
Like now.
“Elia.”
His dark eyes remained fixed on her, stubbornly holding her gaze. Rias asked, in his usual gentle voice,
“As expected, that drink was poisoned. But if the person who served it wasn’t Reiffers…?”
Rias smiled slightly.
“What if it were me?”
Elia couldn’t make sense of Rias’s words; they didn’t sound like reality. A long, tense silence stretched between them.
Elia frowned for a moment. How could Rias know that the drink was poisoned, and why was he saying it might have been him who served it? What kind of answer was he expecting?
“Would you have stopped it back then? Would you have, just like today, been ready to drink the poison in place of Cyrone?”
Rias’s voice grew rough and lost its direction as he asked. It sounded as if he might shout at any moment.
Rias took a deep breath, trying to restrain his anger. Watching Elia give up her life for Cyrone instead of himself was enough for him once. The thought of witnessing it again made his insides twist in disgust.
Why can’t I have you? I was willing to give up everything. So why do you make me suffer like this?
“Do you love me?”
Even just like towards Cyrone, no, even half as much? Rias sneered sharply. His inexplicable jealousy festered into inferiority.
“…Rias.”
Elia didn’t answer the question. Or rather, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Watching her in silence, Rias let out a hollow laugh.
“So, you can’t answer after all. Well, it doesn’t really matter.”
Though he said it didn’t matter, Rias’s expression said otherwise. His fingertips trembled as if he couldn’t bear the resentment he felt toward Elia.
Trying to sort through his tangled emotions, Rias frowned and turned to her.
“Or maybe…”
His lips slowly parted, drawing out the words in a cruelly red smile.
“Do you trust me?”
The voice that slipped out was firm but slightly trembling. Elia happened to glance down at the long shadow Rias cast by his feet.
“Can you trust me?”
Rias asked again, more urgently this time. He was determined to hear the answer he wanted. But Elia no longer heard his voice. Fragmented memories suddenly flashed all around her.
“Rias, you…”
Her voice faltered and stopped.
The shadow glimpsed through the crack in the underground stairs that day. The guest standing by the window. That shadow….those memories fit together like puzzle pieces, and Elia suddenly felt suffocated.
“I’m asking if you trust me, Elia.”
The deepening darkness had by now perfectly concealed Rias’s true face.
Elia.
Could it be… could you really trust me?
* * *
Autumn deepened. Gazing down at the leaves changing colors, Elia felt the chill in the air.
She stared quietly at the faded garden. Beyond it, the banner of Welrod Palace fluttered grandly. These days, Elia found herself lost in thought more often than not.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was constantly caught up in strange and troubling events.
Her father, who watched her warily; Rias, suddenly showing unfamiliar sides of himself; and Cyrone, who seemed to have already seen through everything.
It was like the calm before a storm.
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