‘Cedric right now…’
He wore the expression of someone who didn’t want to be a burden.
Just as Iris had never wanted to become a burden to him.
That’s why she had avoided speaking to him so openly until now.
But…
Because of that—because she knew how he must be feeling—Iris couldn’t let go of his hand.
During all that time…
What she’d truly wanted was for Cedric to reach for her—and he had.
“I could never think of you as a burden, my lord.”
“That’s…”
“No matter how trivial or painful the matter, if it means I can help you, I would be glad.”
Iris’s sky-blue eyes met Cedric’s gaze directly.
“You feel the same, don’t you?”
“…”
“You do, right? So… please come down.”
She let go of the robe she’d grabbed and opened her arms.
There was no answer.
But she waited.
And then, as though collapsing into her, Cedric fell into her embrace.
“Your body’s ice-cold.”
Up close, she saw his face was pale as paper.
Just how long had he been outside?
She quickly helped Cedric to the bed and poured him a cup of warm spiritual tea.
Thank goodness my insomnia came in handy for once.
Cedric sat quietly, drinking the tea she handed him without protest.
To others, his silence might look like a refusal to speak. But Iris understood—he was sorting through his thoughts.
When one carried wounds for so long, speaking them aloud took time.
It always did.
Iris reached out and took his hand.
She held it until the cold faded and warmth returned to his skin.
Eventually, after some time had passed, Cedric finally spoke in a low voice.
“…Truth is, I haven’t been able to sleep well in this Lilac Manor.”
“All this time?”
It had already been several days since they’d arrived.
“Then you’ve been…”
“I’ve been sleeping in the trees, like earlier.”
Iris blinked slowly at the unexpected confession.
I should’ve been more attentive.
Surely this place held countless memories of his time with his parents. She hadn’t even realized how painful it must be for him.
That fact made her feel a little heartache.
“If you’d told me you wanted to stay somewhere else… I would’ve agreed. Happily.”
But Cedric shook his head firmly.
“I wanted you to see the Lilac Manor. I hoped you’d like it.”
He loved this place.
Within its walls were shadows—dark memories, regrets. Things he might want to erase.
But even more than that, there were warm and beautiful moments. He didn’t want to lose all those memories just because of a little pain.
And yet…
Cedric’s voice lowered.
“I’m afraid when I’m alone. When I lie down… I can’t stop the memories from surfacing.”
When everything goes quiet, when darkness sets in…
He hears the screams again. The stench of blood returns.
“I felt pathetic, clinging to the past like that. I didn’t want to trouble you with it.”
“…Don’t say that.”
To Iris, Cedric had always been confident, dignified—almost untouchable.
Even in the novel, and in her previous life before she regressed, he had been that way.
So perhaps she had forgotten—
That what was just a single line of tragedy in her memory had been a lifetime of suffering for him.
That face, looking so weary and vulnerable now… she had never seen it before.
“That’s not pathetic. It’s just… sad.”
At her words, Cedric looked up at her.
In that moment, Iris reached out and embraced him.
Clink—
The empty teacup hit the floor.
They both tumbled onto the bed.
Cedric, startled, then felt something warm begin to soak into his shoulder.
…Mmm.
He hadn’t even said anything yet.
For so long, he had buried this story deep inside himself.
He’d never intended to share it with anyone—never wanted to draw anyone close.
Because people got hurt when they did.
But for this person, who cried in his place…
“For you, I’d like to tell it.”
He wanted to let the truth be known.
“It was the day… my parents died.”
It had started as an ordinary day.
A young Cedric had come to the Lilac Manor with his parents for a short rest. He was lying on a tree branch, basking in the sunlight.
But when he opened his eyes again—
A strange, thick mist had begun to creep into the estate, silently swallowing everything.
“Cedric!”
At some point, his mother had come searching. Her voice called out, urgent and trembling, as she spotted the young boy.
“Mother!”
Tears streamed down her face as she ran to him, clutching him tightly to her chest.
“I thought… I thought something terrible had happened to you…”
Clang.
A strange metallic noise echoed from beyond the manor gardens.
His mother’s body, wrapped around him, froze stiff as stone.
“Cedric. Come quietly with Mother.”
Wiping her tears, she gripped his hand tightly and rushed back into the manor.
Cedric had never seen her look so pale, so full of dread.
She led him into a bedchamber.
Opening a concealed compartment beneath the bed, she gently pushed him inside.
“Cedric, you must stay here until Mother comes back and opens the door. You understand?”
“What about you?”
Sensing something ominous, Cedric clutched her sleeve.
“Can’t you stay with me?”
“If I stay…” Her voice trembled. “If I stay, you’ll be in danger too.”
“Mother…?”
“I’ll come back. I promise. But even if you finish counting from one to a hundred and I don’t come… you mustn’t come out. No matter what.”
Her eyes were desperate—frantic with a fear Cedric couldn’t understand.
“You understand, don’t you, Cedric?”
He couldn’t cry or cling anymore. His mother’s face was far too sorrowful.
And so, the hidden door shut.
One, two, three, four, five…
He heard her hurried footsteps fading away, then—
Agonizing screams rang out beyond the chamber walls.
Some of the voices… were familiar.
…Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight…
Cedric clamped his eyes shut and covered his ears, repeating her words silently:
“Stay hidden until Mother calls for you.”
But that day never came.
His mother’s voice would never call his name again.
Cedric remained hidden there, counting and counting until his strength failed him.
When his aunt, Lady Sylvia, finally found him and opened the hatch, his parents were already gone—murdered under mysterious circumstances.
“…It was a tragedy no one could understand.”
The Lilac Manor had been guarded by knights of the imperial court and attended by numerous servants.
Other noble families lived nearby.
And yet…
“It was strange. No one witnessed anything. Not a soul saw anyone enter or leave during the incident.”
Cedric had been the sole survivor of the massacre.
Despite the sheer number of lives lost, not a single clue about the culprit was ever found.
Iris remembered that story well.
“No one believed me.”
Cedric’s hand, which was wrapped protectively around Iris, trembled again.
“I was too young…”
And besides, he’d been locked away the entire time. All he had were fragments—sounds and fear.
Even if he had seen something, it likely would’ve changed nothing.
It must’ve been Ludwig’s doing…
In the original tale, it was hinted that Ludwig committed many dark deeds on his path to seize the throne.
Cedric, sensing Iris had already reached the same conclusion, gently patted her back and spoke.
“I always believed Ludwig was behind it. But… there was nothing I could do.”
Whatever means he used… Why the Crown Prince and his consort had to die… Why so many had to perish…
Nothing had ever come to light.
The empire simply buried the sorrowful deaths of its most beloved imperial pair.
If only there had been more detail in the novel…
But it only vaguely mentioned that Ludwig’s scheme led to the unjust deaths of Cedric’s parents.
“…But just how long do you intend to pin me down like this?”
Not that he minded too much.
Iris blinked at his teasing, then quickly pulled herself up, her face flushing red.
Her disheveled violet hair fell near Cedric’s ear.
“W-what a thing to say!”
“Haha. But it’s true. Look at us now.”
Somehow, like this, it felt as if the world had faded away—leaving only the two of them behind.
Cedric’s voice softened, a rare tenderness in his gaze.
“Thank you… for listening.”
His smile faltered, vulnerable and fragile.
“I always thought saying it out loud would break me. But it wasn’t as hard as I feared.”
There was no trace of his usual teasing in that moment.
And Iris couldn’t bring herself to scold him, not with that voice.
Instead, a quiet thought rose in her heart.
You once said a kiss could ease the pain…
Just as Cedric had once done, she lowered her head and gently pressed her forehead to his.
When she lifted her head, their eyes met—and Cedric blinked wide-eyed in surprise.
Was this how she looked every time he caught her off guard with his teasing?
If so… then I finally understand why you never stop.
He was adorable.
“Let’s decide we’re not hurting anymore,” Iris said, her voice light but sure.
“It’s all right now. I’ll be by your side from now on.”
Feelings rarely reach their destination easily.
But still—
I want to become someone strong enough to comfort you, the way you do for me.
Pushing aside her embarrassment, Iris wrapped her arms around him in a firm embrace.
“If you count from one to a hundred again… this time, I’ll be the one to call your name.”
Those words pierced Cedric’s heart like a sword driven straight into his core.
“…Iris,” he called, his voice rough with emotion.
He should have told her he was fine.
And truthfully, if someone had asked whether he was truly suffering, Cedric could have confidently said no—it wasn’t
that
painful.
But Iris, still holding him tightly in her embrace, simply shook her head, refusing to hear it.
“Come on, start counting.”
“It might take a long time.”
At that, Iris let out a small laugh.
No matter how long it took, it couldn’t possibly be as long as the time she’d spent in her previous life, lost in doubt, unable to trust him.
“Then I’ll get to hear your voice even longer.”
“…Are you copying me now?”
“…Was I that obvious?”
Of course she was. Cedric knew better than anyone how shy she could be.
But it was so endearing that he just smiled and let it go.
“…One.”
Cedric closed his eyes slowly in her arms.
Every time he lay here, the Lilac Manor had always felt cold—even when no wind blew through.
But tonight, in this moment, it was warm. So very warm.
Just as she had promised, Iris didn’t sleep. She kept calling his name, gently, over and over, until he drifted off.
That night, Cedric slept peacefully at the Lilac Manor—for the first time.
And he didn’t dream of his parents' deaths.
The sky on the day of the Hunting Rite was clear.
Noble ladies in light, colorful dresses glanced around from behind their fans.
‘Who will offer me a flower today?’
In the Hunting Rite, just as men were judged by the number and class of the beasts they captured, ladies were judged by how many flowers they received.
One flower was awarded to each cultivator based on their hunting results—quantity and quality—and they could present that flower to the young lady of their choice.
The lady who received the most flowers would be named the Flowered Lady of the Hunt.
Last year, that honor had gone to Lilliana.
But this year…
The proud Valentine cultivators who had once offered their blooms to Lilliana were gone.
Not only that—her house had completely fallen from grace.
The charming image she had built was now cracked, and many young cultivators had turned away in disappointment.
Everyone was now curious: who would become the Flowered Lady this time?
“The Grand Duke and Duchess of Leontheim have arrived!”
At that announcement, everyone’s attention instantly turned toward one direction.
Iris approached, speaking softly with Cedric, both dressed in sleek hunting robes.
Under the bright sun, Cedric’s black hair gleamed like obsidian.
A youthful, delicate face paired with a body refined through years of martial cultivation.
Unlike the other nobles, he wore his hunting shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, untied and casual.
Yet from him radiated a forceful nobility so intense it felt almost overwhelming.
Men and women alike couldn’t take their eyes off him.
And Cedric’s crimson, gem-like eyes—glinting under the sun—remained fixed only on his wife.
Naturally, those watching him soon turned their gaze toward Iris.
Her distinct silvery-lavender hair was braided over one shoulder, adorned with blossoms and ribbons.
Unlike the deep blue gown from two nights ago, today she wore a light yellow dress that revealed just a glimpse of her slender ankles—a refreshing contrast.
Like Cedric, she wore no flashy ornaments. Her look was understated and pure.
“…She’s dressed so simply,” someone murmured.
Judging by attire alone, that wasn’t an incorrect statement.
They had assumed she’d only stood out at the last banquet because of her bold, dark gown.
But now, when everyone else was dressed in similar pastels and light designs—
‘Then why…?’
Why was she still drawing all their attention?
Feeling the weight of their gazes, Iris tensed slightly. She tightened her grip on Cedric’s arm and whispered quietly:
“Do I… look strange?”
It was her first time trying this hairstyle.
She’d been unsure, but Cedric and the maids had all complimented her—so she’d come out as is.
To her words, Cedric replied without hesitation:
“No. You’re stunning. More than anyone here.”
Thinking he was just teasing her again, Iris left the decorations as they were.
Cedric said I looked beautiful.
That was enough for her.
Just as she turned to find their designated seats, her gaze locked with Lilliana’s in the distance.
Lilliana stared at Iris with eyes full of betrayal, then quickly turned away and approached a different group of young cultivators.
“Are you alright?” Cedric asked.
“Oh, of course.”
Whatever thoughts Lilliana held were no longer Iris’s concern.
With a calm smile, she moved toward the Leontheim seating area—but Cedric remained still, rooted to the spot.
He was watching the cultivators Lilliana had approached—burning with passion.
All of them were diligently tending to their swords and crossbows, a sight visible even from afar.
“Why are they doing that?”
That languid tone dripped with arrogance.
“Hmm…”
Having observed Lilliana for a long time, Iris could see right through her.
‘If he hears her true intentions, he’ll surely be angered.’
After a brief pause, Iris cautiously replied.
“Winning first place in the Hunt Festival is a great honor. I believe she’s aiming to become the Lady of the Hunt and wash away her past disgrace.”
“Hmph.”
Cedric’s brows furrowed at Iris’s explanation.
What about that upset him so much? Iris felt a bit taken aback.
“Does that woman truly believe she can win?”
“Lilliana has always been the Lady of the Hunt.”
“Even with me participating?”
“Ah… If I recall correctly, Your Grace has never joined the Hunt before…”
So, Iris had naturally assumed he wouldn’t participate this time either.
He hadn’t even brought a sword.
“That was the plan…”
Cedric curled his lips into a crooked smile before striding over to Liu, a knight of House Leontheim.
“Lend me your sword.”
Liu, who had been casually chatting with a woman, blinked—and by the time he realized it, the sword was already taken from his hands.
“Cedric?”
“But somehow… I can’t stand the thought of that wicked woman basking in glory.”
Though the weapon was not his usual blade, Cedric wielded Liu’s sword with ease after only a few test swings.
A sinister glint flickered in his crimson eyes.
“I would rather see Iris become the Lady of the Hunt.”
But then, he turned his gaze back to Iris, his eyes softening once again.
“Will you be alright without me by your side?”
They had originally planned to stay together, so his concern was natural.
Iris blinked once, then smiled faintly and gently clasped both of Cedric’s hands.
She brought them up and placed a kiss upon them—an age-old gesture said to be given to lovers departing for battle.
“Please return with the first-place honor.”
She had her own matters to tend to anyway.
The Sacred Sword began to hum softly.
A space had been prepared in a clearing for those not participating in the Hunt Festival.
Most noble madams and young ladies had gathered there.
While the men hunted, they enjoyed a leisurely tea time. Nearby, rabbits were released to provide some amusement.
Green leaves and carrots were placed to indicate that feeding the rabbits was allowed, but no one dared to touch them—
Except Iris.
‘The Sacred Sword keeps resonating.’
She looked around, but found neither any ominous signs nor the silver-haired man she had seen before.
‘There must be a reason the Hunt Festival is marked in the prophecy.’
But from her end, there was little she could do to act first.
As she held out a lettuce leaf to a rabbit, pondering her next move, a delicate voice reached her ears.
“Ahem, Lady Leontheim? Would you care to join us for tea?”
They were noble daughters who had been watching her, trying to find an opening to speak.
As they approached with polite smiles, Iris declined with a serene, noble smile of her own.
“I’m fine. These little ones seem hungry.”
“O-oh… how kind of you…”
She had gently refused to participate in their conversation, so there was little they could say.
Some glanced at her up and down, but no one dared to voice anything aloud.
Even if it was in name only, she was still the Duchess.
‘I have many questions to ask about the Valentaines…’
Their gazes drifted toward Lilliana, who was still laughing brightly among the young noble sons.
Despite the absence of her usual female companions, she seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly.
The way she blushed under their teasing, treating their casual touches like courtship, was a ridiculous spectacle.
“No matter how much the noble sons like her, shouldn’t she maintain a Lady’s dignity?”
“I feel sorry for her fiancé, the Duke of Davilar.”
“And isn’t that man over there the fiancé of Lady Hersin? It must be painful for her to witness this.”
Their eyes filled with disdain as they looked at Lilliana, then quickly shifted the topic.
“Speaking of which, I heard His Majesty has recently taken a woman close to him.”
“Really? Who is it?”
With that, their eyes subtly flicked toward Iris again.
She was the Duchess, and a Valentaine—perhaps she knew something.
But when she gave no reaction, they eventually returned to their own gossip.
And unfortunately, Iris truly didn’t know.
‘Was there such a person?’
In her previous life, Ludwig had gone out of his way to avoid women.
He had spent years merely exchanging betrothal discussions with Lilliana in an effort to block all paths that could divide imperial authority.
Chapter 69