The Shadow of Memories
That night, just before Theodore’s visit, Olivia had been thinking about the "feeling of one's soul becoming tainted" that Zion had mentioned.
Though Zion had been speaking of his own experiences, Olivia knew exactly what he meant.
In the three lives she had endured until now, she had suffered countless indignities at the hands of Ezekiel. She had thought him terrible and filthy, but she had never considered that his filth had stained her own body. Her soul had surely been damaged, but even if it had been drenched in blood, she had never felt it was unclean.
But this life was different. Every time she seduced him with her lips and body, every time she made contact, she felt, just as Zion had said, that even her soul was being soiled.
If kisses and caresses left marks on the body, they would fade in two or three days. The flesh was merely a shell. She knew this well. She had experienced waking up in the same body three times, no matter what she had endured or how she had died. Scars remained on the soul, not the flesh.
Yet, the lingering sense of having rolled through the mire would not disappear.
Whenever that happened, Olivia thought of Theodore’s kisses. She thought of the moment he had crossed the line he had drawn himself to reach out to her, and the heart he had shown her then.
In all three of her previous lives, their hearts had never once connected.
In her first life, she had believed Theodore despised her. When he refused to marry her as if she were beneath consideration, she felt a sorrow that transcended mere insult, and tears had welled up before she could stop them.
"I don't know why you're surprised. Did you beg my father to make me marry you, even as a dying wish?"
"That’s not it. I just..."
"Then why are you crying? Surely you know that I would never marry you for such a reason."
"It’s not like that."
She had known he wouldn't accept. Still, she was simply sad. The fact that he despised her so deeply chilled her to the bone.
That was why, when she read Pavel’s letter and learned she was an Imperial Princess, she had been overjoyed. If she were no longer a nameless bastard, she thought he might despise her less.
She hadn't expected to be loved. But perhaps she had wanted to look down on him a little and show off. To prove that she wasn't a bastard born to an unknown woman, but an Imperial Princess. She had wanted to see him kneel on one knee before her and beg for forgiveness.
But she never met him again. For a long time, she missed him, and while she missed him, she often doubted whether the person she longed for was truly Theodore Lutgarth. Perhaps what she missed was simply the childhood where she knew nothing.
The childhood where Theodore would hold her hand and run through the vast Lutgarth castle. They had once gone into the greenhouse to help the head maid, only to end up cutting all the roses, and she had cried when she saw Theodore fall and hit his head while trying to climb over the fence on a clematis vine. When she set up a small tea set and called for him, he would ignore her, saying playing house was for children, but eventually, he would sit quietly and play the role of the guest, pretending to drink tea.
But had she known him after that? No. As soon as he came of age, he had left for the Knox Count’s estate, and they had only met again at Pavel’s funeral.
So, the Theodore she had loved and missed was likely just a shadow cast long by the memories of her childhood.
Yet, he had died for her. The first time, the second time, and the third.
The first two times, she had wondered why. By the third life, she had concluded it was because he knew she was an Imperial Princess. He was a fundamentally loyal man, and once he learned the truth—that her father had not committed a crime but had upheld his loyalty as a knight—he had been loyal to her as if he had inherited that legacy.
So, she had thought there was nothing between them. The Theodore she had kept in her heart for so long was a phantom carved by her own memories and hopes, and the Olivia he had risked his life for was not herself, but the position of the Imperial Princess.
But.
"Live holding your breath. Forget who you are, and live in hiding. If you feel it’s a waste that those who died to save you did so, then live as long as the sum of all those lives."
Only when she heard those words did she know for the first time that it wasn't so.
She knew all too well what kind of heart a desperate, tragic wish for someone to simply survive came from. He had loved her.
While lying curled up in Ezekiel’s bedroom, thinking she had to prepare for her next life, she had incessantly recalled those words and that kiss. If only she had reached out her arms and held him, perhaps something might have changed.
'What would be different? I would have died in the end anyway. It would have just been the difference between dying together or dying alone.'
Her cold reason spat that out. The longing she had kept for so long whispered something else.
'I want to save him. I don't want anything else. I just want him to survive.'
Even after returning to her fourth life, there were times when despair would suddenly rise up.
'If only we had just died together back then.'
Whenever she felt her soul becoming tainted, she would think of his kiss. She thought of how he had embraced her in the small garden, wanting her like a man who had lost his mind. When she remembered what it meant to entwine their bodies with a sincere heart, she could believe that she was still a whole person.
But that was Olivia’s one-sided emotion. Once again, their hearts could not intersect.
'He must despise me now...'
Looking at Theodore, she thought as much. Trapping a woman with no power to resist and driving her to ruin was not something he could tolerate.
It wasn't that she thought his loyalty would break. He wasn't someone who didn't understand the nature of power struggles.
But the Olivia he loved was not this kind of person. That woman was much more fragile, innocent, and clean.
What did it matter that the true self beneath the mask was different? A person’s essence is ultimately revealed through their actions. The idea that there was a separate, untainted self was merely an excuse to comfort oneself.
Olivia, unable to meet his eyes, lowered her gaze slightly to his lips. Watching Theodore’s lips move, she was so lost in thought that she didn't hear what he said.
"...Via."
"Ah."
She started, lifting her head. Theodore was looking at her with deepened eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I was just lost in thought for a moment..."
"You're tired, and I've taken up your time for no reason."
He stood up. Olivia, wanting to hold onto him, spoke quickly.
"Didn't you have other business?"
"..."
Theodore was silent for a moment.
It was not right to express his personal feelings to the Imperial Princess. Moreover, she was at a crucial moment right now.
He had hoped she would rely on him, but if she had decided not to, there was nothing he could do.
"I..."
Even so, like the loyal subject he was, he could not bring himself to leave.
"I just... I came wondering if I could see your face one last time. Ah, that sounded strange. It doesn't mean I'm leaving the capital. It’s just, I felt your mood might be complicated."
Realizing he was rambling, he sighed inwardly.
"I am not a suitable conversation partner. I’ll be going now."
Saying that, he headed for the door. He felt like such a fool.
If she needed comfort, there was Duke Klaus, or the Viscountess of Margarita or Münchhausen. Whoever it was, they would be better than Theodore himself.
As he grabbed the doorknob to turn it, Olivia’s arms rushed forward from behind, wrapping around his waist. Warmth touched his back.
Theodore froze as if turned to stone. Olivia buried her face in his back. He could feel even the trembling of her breath against his body.
After a long while, Olivia said in a thin voice.
"I want to empty my head."
Theodore tightened his grip on the doorknob. Olivia whispered again.
"My head is so full of contradictions... it's hard to think. Will you help me?"
He was neither young nor foolish enough to misunderstand her meaning.
Feeling a wave of dizziness, he turned slowly. As he did, Olivia’s arms, which had loosened, now wrapped around his neck.