Chapter 126

Till Death Do Us Part

Still holding Valdrova's hand, Ferda led her away.

The only thought in his mind was to find somewhere quiet.

So he headed for the quietest place he could think of.

They arrived at the castle gardens.

Bathed in beautiful moonlight, the garden was the perfect place for a secret meeting.

The ballroom was at the height of its excitement, leaving the gardens completely deserted.

A dry spring breeze brushed against their skin.

Ferda's forehead felt cold.

Cold sweat beaded across it.

Valdrova gently released his hand and walked ahead.

After taking four slow steps, she crouched down and buried her face in her knees.

Like a young noble girl crying her heart out.

"...Sniff."

The quiet was broken by the sound of her drawing in a shaky breath through her nose.

The Shadow Circle stirred.

The regret that had been separated from him began moving within his chest once more.

Ferda wanted to avert his eyes from her pitiful figure.

Instead, he forced himself to keep looking.

Just as she had faced her own pain... I can't run from mine.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

Yet somehow...

The words refused to leave his mouth.

Only the sounds of her quiet sniffling and swallowing tightened around his own throat.

"Mr... Ferda..."

Valdrova spoke first.

"Please."

"...Did you hear them?"

"What do you mean?"

"My voice..."

She rubbed her eyes with both wrists.

"The voices... whispering while they looked at me."

Whispering?

Ferda hadn't heard anything.

"They were calling me a murderer... whispering about me... Didn't you hear them?"

Ferda clenched his fist.

Valdrova's hearing far surpassed that of any human.

She could hear the fluttering wings of even the tiniest gnat.

A whisper like that would have been impossible for her to miss.

Rage flooded his body.

How dare they?

They set foot on the Prince's land and still dared to slander her?

Whoever you are...

I don't care what noble house you belong to.

If I find you... I'll kill you with my own hands.

—Don't hesitate.

—They insulted your woman.

The voice whispered into his ear.

The Shadow Circle itself wasn't moving...

But it was urging him forward.

Which meant only one thing.

He would regret whatever came next.

This... is dangerous.

Ferda forced himself to calm down.

If he surrendered to emotion, he would make mistakes.

And mistakes, like snowballs rolling downhill, only grew larger.

Watching himself from a distance, if only for a moment, he regained his reason.

Even if they were immature, they couldn't be complete fools.

If someone carelessly slandered the host behind his back, losing their head would be the least of their worries.

It could easily bring ruin upon their entire family.

No noble house would ever present sons and daughters so hopelessly ignorant before the assembled aristocracy.

And this wasn't just anyone.

It was a dragon.

A dragon no one would ever expect to see in their lifetime.

The infamous Evil Dragon.

No one possessed that kind of courage.

So he answered calmly.

"I didn't hear anything."

Valdrova let out a relieved breath.

"That's a relief... Then I guess I was hearing things again."

"...Again?"

"Whenever I'm around people... I always hear voices."

She took a deep breath.

"They call me a murderer... a butcher... They scream at me..."

Another slow breath.

"...But I thought... it might be a little better than before."

Ferda didn't know it...

But Valdrova had been helping build the village.

Back then, there had been no problems.

Because she hadn't been Valdrova.

She had simply been a mysterious armored knight with incredible strength.

People admired that armored knight as though she had stepped out of a legend.

"But... it wasn't."

The armored knight...

And Valdrova...

Could never be the same person.

The label attached to her past still lingered in everyone's eyes.

Murderer.

Butcher.

The flames that burn everything.

Evil Dragon.

Evil Dragon.

Evil Dragon...

"That isn't true. No one here curses Your Highness. Those events happened far too long ago."

It had been...

One hundred and fifty years.

Outside of powerful archmages like Erdes, almost no one alive today had witnessed those days.

"I know."

She nodded faintly.

"I know they wouldn't dare say those things in front of me."

Her trembling voice wavered.

"But... if..."

Moisture and emotion shook every word.

"If someone ever really said those things to my face..."

Her throat tightened.

She swallowed hard, unable to finish.

"...That's why... I was only going to watch from far away."

Ferda could picture it vividly.

Watching through a window.

Keeping herself hidden.

Standing far enough away that no one would notice her.

The place he had wanted to create for her...

Yet she had become nothing more than an outsider.

"I... I only wanted to watch Mr. Ferda at the banquet..."

Her voice quivered.

"...Then I happened to see it."

"You asking..."

"...Olivia..."

"...to dance."

Just as I thought.

That had been the breaking point.

"The Princess of Arken means nothing to me."

Ferda answered firmly.

"I asked her only because it was my duty as the host."

He wished his sincerity could reach her.

But it wasn't enough to soothe her pain.

"But..."

She lowered her head.

"You looked so perfect together."

"Compared to you, Olivia Arken means nothing to me."

"No!"

Valdrova suddenly raised her voice.

"The Imperial Princess is intelligent!"

"She's graceful!"

"Elegant!"

"She smiles so beautifully!"

"Everyone admires her!"

"..."

"Look at me!"

She pointed at herself.

"I finally gathered enough courage..."

"...and this idiot..."

"Wearing a mask like this..."

"Unable to even show my face to people..."

"Not even to my own fiancé..."

"And then..."

"I got jealous..."

She covered her eyes.

"And now..."

"I'm crying like this..."

"..."

"And I danced so terribly..."

"I stepped on your feet over and over..."

The reason she was crying wasn't because she believed Ferda had betrayed her.

It was...

Self-loathing.

She blamed herself for everything.

The gossip between Ferda and Olivia?

Her fault.

The disastrous dance?

Also her fault.

Living isolated from the world had driven her self-esteem to the very bottom.

Every mistake only pushed it lower.

Ferda knew she carried wounds.

And he knew...

Those wounds were his responsibility to embrace.

Even taking a single step into the world was difficult for her...

Yet he had dragged her into it.

To stop meaningless rumors...

He had burdened this innocent woman with unnecessary pain.

I'm the worst fiancé imaginable.

"Iorga was right."

She murmured.

"I ruin everything."

"That isn't true."

"It is."

"You don't have to comfort me."

"I'm not comforting you."

Ferda stepped closer.

"I'm telling you the truth."

He took another step.

"Your Highness."

"You told me..."

"...that if I let go of your hand..."

"...you didn't know what would happen."

"..."

"I didn't let go."

"And neither did you."

"So what happened?"

"..."

"You didn't run away."

"You didn't scream."

"..."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"You maintained your dignity..."

"...as the great dragon..."

"...and as the Prince."

Those words seemed to reach her.

Her sobs gradually faded.

"Although..."

Ferda smiled faintly.

"Our dancing really was rather foolish."

"Ugh..."

"But..."

"I don't think anyone believed you looked foolish."

"...Why?"

Ferda answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because I was the one flapping around like a chicken in a burning coop."

"Pfft...!"

A laugh escaped between her tears.

Silence settled for a moment.

Then Valdrova slowly turned toward him.

Only the white mask was visible.

But he knew.

The sadness behind it had disappeared.

"They probably thought..."

"...both of us looked ridiculous."

"That's right."

"So..."

"We're two fools."

"Yes."

The crying had vanished.

Only laughter remained.

The heavy atmosphere dissolved into the cool spring night.

Valdrova slowly stood.

Ferda quietly stepped beside her.

"Mr. Ferda..."

He turned his head.

The petite dragon was looking up at him.

"...Do you..."

"...want to see my face?"

More than anything.

"We're alone now..."

"And..."

"You've always wanted to see my face..."

"So..."

"I think..."

"It might be okay..."

"...to show you today."

With timid fingers...

She reached for the mask.

Beyond it...

Was the face Ferda had imagined countless times.

Not a vision of his imagination—

But the real Valdrova, standing before his eyes.

"No."

Almost instinctively, Ferda caught the hand that was reaching for her mask.

Valdrova blinked in surprise.

"Why?"

Why, indeed?

Even Ferda didn't know.

His body had moved before his mind could catch up.

Faced with her question, he finally searched for an answer.

Then he found one.

"...There are still tears in your eyes, aren't there?"

"...Probably."

"Then you mustn't."

The first time he had seen her face...

She had been crying.

He didn't want the second time he saw that face to be stained with tears as well.

"So... I suppose I'd look awful if you saw me crying?"

Her voice shrank with disappointment.

That wasn't it.

If he thought her tears made her look ugly...

He would have beaten himself senseless.

Ferda desperately searched for an explanation.

Then he remembered something Zed had once told him.

"My knight once told me..."

"If your first glimpse of someone is while they're crying..."

"...then the second should be when they're smiling."

"When we first met..."

"...weren't you crying?"

"Ah... yes."

"You were."

"Then..."

"The next time should be when you're smiling."

"I-I see..."

Convinced by his explanation, Valdrova lowered her hand instead of removing the mask.

Ferda had looked so desperate that she simply assumed there must be a reason.

Still...

She couldn't help asking.

"Then... what happens if you see someone's smiling face?"

Ferda answered without thinking.

"They say you'll grow old together."

He expected her to blush.

Or smile happily.

Instead...

She looked disappointed.

"...Only a hundred years?"

"...Pardon?"

"If love only lasts a hundred years..."

"...wouldn't that be terribly sad?"

...What kind of silly thing is that...?

Then Ferda remembered.

Her perception of time was completely different from a human's.

To humans...

A hundred years was practically an entire lifetime.

To her...

It was scarcely different from a single year.

No wonder she thought he was saying they would only stay together for a year.

Apparently deciding that simply wouldn't do, she asked in complete seriousness,

"Then..."

"Yes?"

"If I smile even brighter..."

"...could it last longer than a hundred years?"

For a moment...

Ferda was speechless.

Valdrova continued innocently.

"Could it last a thousand years?"

She immediately shook her head.

"No..."

"Even a thousand years feels too short."

"I think..."

"...ten thousand years would be better."

"...I'm sure it could."

Ferda answered absentmindedly.

Yet somehow...

Valdrova seemed to brighten.

"Then..."

"I'll make sure I can smile as brightly as possible."

"Because..."

"I want to stay with you for ten thousand years, Mr. Ferda."

She was the kind of woman who, if someone pointed at the moon...

...would only stare at the finger.

Utterly innocent.

Utterly foolish.

And Ferda found her unbearably adorable.

The Shadow Circle had stopped moving.

Instead...

The Red Circle spun wildly of its own accord.

He had to suppress the feelings threatening to overflow and ruin the moment.

It was unbearable.

He was so happy...

...that it hurt.

Never, in all his life, had he imagined he could feel something like this.

Perhaps she sensed his emotions.

The smiling Valdrova slowly lifted her eyes toward the sky.

"...The moon is beautiful."

"I've heard tonight is when it's at its largest."

"I-Is that so?"

An awkward silence followed.

That probably wasn't the response she'd been hoping for.

I've definitely caught whatever foolishness she's infected me with.

"...The Moonlight Step..."

She mumbled softly.

"They say..."

"...it's the most beautiful dance to perform beneath the moon..."

"I... see..."

Even a fool could understand what she meant.

Valdrova's fingers fidgeted nervously.

Ferda's hand at his side did the same.

Neither of them could quite bring themselves to say it aloud.

As the man...

It should have been Ferda who invited her to dance.

But he hesitated.

There was a reason.

He had rushed through learning to dance.

Olivia could hum the tune while dancing flawlessly.

He...

Could not.

If he wanted to dance beneath this moon...

He needed music.

Just as she longed for another chance...

He also didn't want to waste the chance he had finally been given.

Then—

The elegant sound of a violin drifted through the night breeze.

Ferda quietly turned toward its source.

There stood a tall figure playing the violin.

It was Zed.

His performance was masterful.

Yet a violin alone wasn't enough.

Soon...

The sound of a flute joined in.

A duet.

The woman seated beside Zed played the flute.

Garnet.

Together, they performed the waltz Moonlight.

The dance born from that melody...

...was the Moonlight Step.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

They had just been talking about the Moonlight Step...

...and suddenly Moonlight began playing.

So they've been listening the whole time.

Come to think of it...

This was the very place where they had hidden while intimidating those foolish young nobles.

Of course they had overheard everything.

Well... it doesn't really matter.

Rather than feeling annoyed...

Ferda understood the message Zed was sending him.

As his knight...

Zed was pushing him forward.

Ferda had to seize the opportunity.

"Your Highness, Prince Valdrova."

A chance...

To make up for the mistakes they had both made.

"Would you honor me with a dance?"

A chance...

For the two of them to move forward together.

Valdrova answered with the brightness of the morning sun.

"Yes...!"

Their hands met once more.

Excitement settled quietly between them.

The pounding of their hearts blended into the atmosphere.

Their fingers lingered against each other's warmth.

Beneath the moon...

The man and woman surrendered themselves to the beautiful melody and danced.

The Spring Festival banquet may have been a disaster.

They may have embarrassed themselves before everyone with their clumsy first dance.

But here...

In a place no one else knew...

They were perfect for each other.

And that...

Was enough.

As the final notes of Moonlight faded away...

They bowed to one another.

Their hands separated.

Yet neither could pull their gaze away.

"Mr. Ferda..."

"I..."

"I think I should go now..."

"Is that so?"

Her clasped hands fidgeted together.

"It's not that I don't want to stay with you..."

"It's just..."

"I don't think I can keep myself under control anymore..."

Ferda felt exactly the same.

He wanted nothing more than to be alone for a while...

To quietly savor the lingering warmth in his heart.

But unlike their wishes...

Their bodies refused to move.

Their fingers slowly slid apart.

It took every ounce of restraint...

...before their hands finally separated completely.

"Please return safely."

"Yes."

She walked toward the far edge of the garden.

Toward the cliff.

Feeling it would be wrong to watch her leap from it, Ferda turned around.

Time to return to the ballroom.

"Mr. Ferda!"

Valdrova's voice, filled with newfound courage, stopped him.

He turned back.

She was standing atop the railing.

The moon hung directly above her.

Ready to leap at any moment.

She reached toward her face.

Then...

She removed her mask.

In that instant...

The black-and-blue night was flooded with color.

Ferda stood utterly overwhelmed by the surreal, almost divine sight before him.

He searched desperately for a word worthy of describing it.

Yes.

She was...

The sun.

The warm light that melts frozen earth...

That coaxes new sprouts from the soil...

Behind that mask...

She had hidden a radiant smile as warm as the sun itself.

"With this..."

"...can we stay together for ten thousand years?"

"..."

"Ah..."

"That was a silly question."

"I'll be going now!"

Blushing with embarrassment...

She threw herself from the cliff.

Ferda remained frozen.

His soul had yet to return.

He stared silently at the place where she had disappeared.

Then...

His knees gave way.

He collapsed onto the ground.

"...Is this heatstroke?"

His face was burning red.

His thoughts drifted hazily.

That had to be it.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

Lying there in the empty garden...

He gazed blankly up at the stars.

"...Did you see that?"

He spoke into the empty air.

The one he was addressing...

Was the voice inside himself.

The voice he had ignored for so long.

For the first time...

Ferda was the one who spoke to it first.

The voice remained silent.

He didn't mind.

That silence...

Felt sweeter than any victory.

The victor looked down upon the defeated.

"No matter how violently you struggle..."

"...you will never defeat that woman."