Please Forget Me - Chapter 335

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Was this thought creeping in because I’d been swayed by Killian’s words?

After that, the Marquis fell silent, staring at a corner of the table, lost in thought. Then he let out a short laugh and said,

“I wondered why the man who acted as if he’d run to the ends of the earth with you suddenly gave you up. So I asked him, but he wouldn’t answer.”

“You spoke with him?”

The Marquis ignored my question and continued on his own.

“He didn’t answer, but… he looked utterly unburdened. As if he had no regrets at all. It struck me as odd. But seeing your behavior today, I think I understand why.”

He meant that the man had fled because he couldn’t handle someone as unruly as me. I was about to snap back and call it a lie. But then Killian’s face surfaced in my mind, and the words died on my tongue.

“I have to go home too. The work I needed to do is finished.”

It was true. When he said that, he’d looked lighter than I’d ever seen him.

“How little attachment must he have, not even asking how you’re doing. And yet here you are, worrying over his safety. As your husband, is that something I should tolerate? Still, I’m expected to be grateful for taking in a woman discarded by another man. I hope you now understand your place.”

“Liar!”

No. Killian didn’t abandon me. He wouldn’t.

“It’s all lies. Give me the newspaper now.”

I couldn’t even trust the claim that he was alive anymore.

“Why would the papers carry news about a nobody like him?”

The Marquis leaned back and laughed openly at me.

“Then why keep it from me if there’s nothing there?”

“Dana, calm down. As I said earlier, the newspaper isn’t being withheld because of him, it’s for your psychological stability.”

The doctor, who’d been silent, stepped in to soothe me.

“I won’t believe it unless you show me proof that he’s alive.”

“Dana, I guarantee it. Father Ackroyd is alive and well.”

“…Really?”

There wasn’t a flicker of discomfort in the doctor’s nod or expression. He might make excuses often, but he didn’t seem like a man skilled at lying. Could this be the truth?

‘Then Killian really is alive.’

The frantic pounding of my heart gradually settled back into rhythm. Seeing me quiet down, the doctor continued gently.

“He’s forgotten you and gone to reclaim his own place in the world. Why are you clinging to someone who’s already left? It’s embarrassing, even shameful, before your husband.”

“……”

“Dana, forget that name now. You are a Marchioness. The position you once chose because you liked it. You keep refusing to accept it, but the woman you were and the woman you are now are the same. A vow you made must be kept to the end. And though you may have forgotten for a time, there was a reason you vowed to spend your life with the Marquis, wasn’t there?”

Of the three of them, the doctor was the one speaking the least incorrect words, yet none of it reached my ears.

‘…Did Killian really leave me?’

The dinner meant to mend fences only widened the rift and ended early. I thought the Marquis might leave just like that, but thankfully the doctor stopped him.

“Last year, I received a very rare liquor as a gift. I’ve been saving it to share with a truly honored guest. It seems today is that day.”

And so I was brought along to the sitting room as well.

“Please sit here, Marquis. This sofa is much more comfortable.”

The moment Grandmother offered the cushioned seat, the Marquis’s face twisted. His pride had been pricked again. She hadn’t offered it as a seat of honor, it was simply the most comfortable place for someone with an injured leg.

The Marquis limped.

It wasn’t obvious unless you paid close attention, but it showed clearly when he climbed stairs.

‘That man said one of his legs was injured during the Great Air Raid. That was true, then.’

For a soldier, his gait was slow, his stride short. It seemed he deliberately walked stiffly and carefully, trying not to reveal the limp. To him, the scar left by the air raid wasn’t a badge of glory, but a shame he wanted hidden.

To me—someone who lived bound by the scars of that same raid—his injury felt like punishment. I’m not proud of the shallow, vulgar pleasure this gave me, but watching him squirm under Grandmother’s misplaced consideration was, frankly, satisfying.

It was just as satisfying to see her fluster, trying to curry favor and only making things worse.

“I apologize for leaving so soon after asking you to stay. It can’t be helped. Keep this to yourself, His Majesty has been unconscious for over five days now, and the entire medical staff is on edge.”