Chapter 45
“The one I want to be with is not a perfect, flawless husband, but you, Lucius Valentin. So if you feel the same as I do, don’t hide anymore. Don’t hide from me.”
Lucius placed his hand over Charlotte’s. Endless hot tears streamed down his cheeks, wetting Charlotte’s hand. Her confession cleared his blocked airways and made his heart race. Even though he had deceived her, even though he had no right to have her, a single word of love made his chest swell with emotion, cowardly.
Lucius slowly nodded.
“I swear it.”
I love you, Charlotte. A whisper, so quiet it was barely audible, seeped into Charlotte’s lips along with his tears.
The very moment he first met Charlotte was when his lonely and insignificant life turned upside down. The world centered around Charlotte was as colorful and beautiful as a rainbow. Lucius knew of no existence that shone more brilliantly than her.
So he would love her forever.
Even if he were ultimately to drown and die in the sin he had committed.
EPILOGUE - I
Like any other great noble family, the Valentin Ducal Manor had an underground tomb where the remains of the Valentin family members were laid to rest.
Initially, Linert’s remains had also been interred there. However, after Lucius succeeded to the ducal title, the previous Duke and Duchess, who naturally moved their residence, created a separate, small family tomb and re-interred Linert’s remains there. Of course, they did not seek even a word of consent from Lucius regarding this matter.
Charlotte was very displeased by this. She knew the previous Duke and Duchess’s biased love for their children wasn’t a new development, but she found such overt discrimination to be excessive. But unlike the upset Charlotte, Lucius himself didn’t really mind; in fact, he was grateful to Diana for having done it.
“…….”
In the underground tomb, isolated from the outside world, only perfect silence lingered. On the exquisitely crafted stone coffin and its lid, the likeness of the deceased in life was faithfully carved.
Lucius gazed quietly at the coffin containing Linert’s remains. Although they were brothers who had lived under the same roof for over a decade, the memories that remained amounted to barely a handful. A chill emanating from the cold stone walls seeped into Lucius’s quietly exhaled breath.
Although he hadn’t come here specifically to pay his respects, he suddenly wondered.
How had Linert felt right before his breath ceased? Had he felt wronged and resentful about dying by the hand of the younger brother he so despised? Or had he met death without even the leisure to feel such emotions? He couldn’t clearly remember what expression Linert had worn while looking at him in that final moment.
If Linert hadn’t grown bored of sparring with the servant that day, if Lucius hadn’t accepted the real sword he offered, if they had never crossed blades—would things be different now?
Lucius was certain they would not. Even if it hadn’t been that day, he would have done anything to take Charlotte for himself, and even if it hadn’t been the sword in his hand, he would have sought Linert’s life.
…Yes, so he would not regret it. He would neither apologize for the sin he committed, nor seek forgiveness.
“Resent me all you want, Brother.”
I will gladly fall into hell for you.
“Lucius?”
A familiar voice pulled Lucius from his thoughts.
“You’re still here? We should head home now.”
Charlotte, who had approached him, took Lucius’s hand as she spoke. The warmth flowing from her palm through his revived the pulse of his frozen, cold heart. Lucius interlaced his fingers with hers and smiled softly.
“Yes. Let’s go home, Charlotte.”
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