Chapter 126: Ten Thousand Years of Bliss
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 126: Ten Thousand Years of Bliss
Ferda took Valdrova by the hand and led her away.
His only thought was to find a quiet place—a sanctuary where the world couldn't reach them. He guided her toward that refuge.
They arrived at the castle garden. Bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, it was the perfect setting for a private encounter. Perhaps because the ball was at its peak, the garden was deserted.
A dry spring breeze brushed against his skin. His forehead felt cold; beads of sweat had formed there despite the chill.
Valdrova gently let go of Ferda’s hand and walked a few steps ahead. After a short distance, she sank into a crouch, burying her face in her knees. She looked like a young noblewoman crushed by sorrow.
"...Sniff."
The sound of her catching her breath dampened the silence. Within Ferda’s chest, the Shadow Circle stirred. The fragments of regret he had tried to set aside began to shift.
Ferda wanted to look away from her trembling figure, but he forced himself to watch. Just as this woman was facing her own reality, he could not allow himself to retreat.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for making you sad.
Strangely, the words wouldn't come. The sound of her sniffing, the sound of her swallowing her tears, seemed to tighten like a noose around his throat.
"Mr. Ferda..." Valdrova was the first to speak.
"Please, speak."
"...Did you hear them?"
"Hear what?"
"The voices." She rubbed her eyes with her wrists. "The voices whispering about me."
Whispering voices? Ferda hadn't heard a thing.
"Calling me a murderer, cursing me, whispering... Did you really not hear them?"
Ferda clenched his fists. Valdrova’s hearing was far superior to that of any human. For someone who could vividly hear the fluttering wings of a tiny gnat, such murmurs would be as clear as a shout.
A cold rage enveloped him. How dare they utter such things while treading upon the Archduchess’s land? Who was it? He didn't care what family they belonged to; if he found out, he would kill them with his own hands.
— Don’t hesitate.
— They insulted your woman.
Voices echoed in Ferda’s ears. The Shadow Circle didn't manifest, but it was egging him on, whispering to his darker impulses. That meant this path would lead only to regret.
Is this a dangerous thought?
Ferda forced himself to cool down. If he let his emotions take hold, it would lead to a mistake, and that mistake would snowball like an avalanche falling from a mountain peak. By observing himself from a distance, he regained his reason.
Even if those people are immature, they aren't fools.
Badmouthing a host usually ended with more than just a severed head; it could lead to the ruin of one's entire territory. If they were young lords or ladies who couldn't tell left from right, they wouldn't have been invited to a gathering of the high nobility.
Furthermore, she was a dragon. A dragon they might never see again in their lives—and an Evil Dragon known for her ferocity. There was no way they had the guts to say such things aloud.
So, he answered firmly: "I heard nothing."
Valdrova let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I must have been hearing things again."
"What do you mean, 'again'?"
"Well... whenever I go where there are people, I always hear voices. They call me a murderer, a butcher... they scream at me." She took a deep breath. "Still... I thought it would be a little better than before."
Though Ferda didn't know it, Valdrova had been helping with the construction of the village. There had been no problems then. Because back then, she wasn't Valdrova; she was just an Armored Knight in plain plate who possessed monstrous strength. The people had respected and admired that knight like a hero out of a storybook.
"But I was wrong."
The Armored Knight and Valdrova could never be the same. She could feel the labels of her past following her in the eyes of others.
Murderer, butcher, the flame that burns everything.
Evil Dragon, Evil Dragon, Evil Dragon...
"That is not true. People do not curse Your Grace. Those events happened far too long ago for humans."
It had been a full 150 years. Unless they were high-ranking mages like Erdes, very few people from that era were still alive.
"I know. I know they can’t say those things to my face. But... what if..." Her voice trembled with moisture and suppressed passion. "If someone really said those things to me, I..."
She choked back a sob, unable to finish her sentence. Swallowing her grief, she spoke again. "That’s why I only intended to watch from afar."
Ferda could see it vividly: her watching from outside the window, hidden in the dark so as not to be caught. In the very place he had wanted to create for her, she had become an outsider.
"I only wanted to see Mr. Ferda standing at the banquet... but then, I suddenly saw it. You asking that person... Olivia... to dance."
As expected, that had been the breaking point.
"The Imperial Princess of Arken is nothing to me. Asking for that dance was merely my duty as the host," Ferda spoke firmly. He hoped his sincerity would reach her, but it wasn't enough to soothe her sorrow.
"But you two looked so good together."
"Olivia Arken is nothing to me compared to you."
"No!" Valdrova flared up, her voice rising. "The Imperial Princess is smart, elegant, noble, smiles beautifully, and is the kind of woman everyone admires, isn't she?!"
"..."
"Look! Look at this fool who said she finally found her courage! Wearing a mask like this... unable to even show her face to people... not even showing it to her fiancé... and then getting vulgarly jealous... and..." Valdrova covered her eyes with her hands. "And just crying like this..."
"..."
"And dancing like a fool, stepping on Mr. Ferda’s feet so many times..."
The reason she was so sad wasn't because she felt Ferda had betrayed her. It was self-loathing, born from the crushing weight of her own perceived inadequacies. The scandal between Ferda and Olivia was her fault for being inadequate. Her inability to dance was her fault. Her self-esteem, which had hit rock bottom while isolated from the world, sank even further with every mistake.
Ferda knew she was in pain. And it was his job to embrace that pain.
In a place where it’s hard to even take a single step...
Ferda had dragged her out. In an attempt to stop useless rumors, he had placed a cruel emotional burden on this woman who knew nothing of the world. He was the worst fiancé.
"Iorga was right. I’m a child who ruins everything I do."
"That is not true. It is not a fact that Your Grace ruins everything."
"You don’t have to say things you don’t mean."
"I am speaking from the heart." Ferda took a step forward. "Your Grace said it yourself—that you didn't know what would happen if you let go of this hand."
"..."
"I did not let go. And Your Grace did not let go either. So, what happened?"
"..."
"Your Grace did not run away, nor did you scream unsightly. You ruined nothing. As a Great Dragon and as an Archduchess, you maintained your dignity."
Those words seemed to offer some comfort. Her sobbing gradually subsided.
"Still, the dancing might have been truly foolish."
"Ugh..."
"But at the very least, no one would have thought Your Grace was the fool."
"...Why?"
Ferda answered nonchalantly. "Because I was flapping about like a chicken in a burning coop."
"Pfft...!"
A burst of laughter broke through her tearful voice. After a moment of silence as she caught her breath, Valdrova turned her head. Though he could only see a white mask, he knew there was no more sadness behind it.
"We must have both looked like fools."
"Indeed."
"A fool and a fool."
"Yes."
The sound of crying vanished, replaced by the sound of laughter. The gloomy atmosphere dissipated. Valdrova stood up, and Ferda gently approached her side.
"Mr. Ferda..." Ferda turned his head. She was looking up at him, her stature small and delicate. "Do you... want to see my face?"
Very much so.
"There’s no one here but us... and Mr. Ferda always wants to see my face... so I think it would be okay to show you today..." With a shy gesture, she reached for her mask.
Beyond it lay the face of Valdrova that Ferda had only ever imagined. Her appearance, seen not through imagination, but with his own eyes.
"You cannot."
Ferda reflexively caught her hand as she tried to remove the mask. Valdrova was taken aback. "Why?"
Why indeed? Ferda’s body had moved before his mind could process the reason. He thought about the question, and the answer came to him.
"Are there not still tears left?"
"Probably...?"
"Then you cannot."
Their first meeting had been of her in tears. Ferda did not want the memory of seeing her face again to be marred by her crying.
"I suppose I look unsightly when I cry, don't I?"
The mood began to dampen again. It wasn't that. If the reason had been that she looked unsightly, he would have beaten himself to death. Ferda racked his brain for a proper excuse and suddenly remembered something Jed had said.
"My knight told me that if the first time you see someone’s face they are crying, the second time must be when they are smiling. Were you not crying during our first meeting?"
"Uh... yes, I was."
"Then this time, it must be a smiling face."
"I-I see."
Hearing that, Valdrova stopped trying to remove her mask. Ferda seemed so desperate that she figured that must be the case. Still, she was curious.
"Then what happens if you see a smiling face?"
Ferda replied, "They say you will live together in bliss for a hundred years."
He expected her to be happy or embarrassed, but what came from her lips was disappointment. "Only a hundred years...?"
"Pardon?"
"If love only lasts a hundred years... that sounds so sad..."
He started to think it was nonsense, but then remembered that Valdrova’s sense of time was different. To a human, a hundred years was a lifetime, but to her, it was likely no more than a single year. To Valdrova, it sounded like he was suggesting they only stay together for a brief moment.
As if realizing this couldn't be right, she asked in a serious voice, "Then, tell me."
"Yes."
"If I smile even more brightly, could it last longer than a hundred years?"
Ferda was momentarily speechless. Valdrova continued to ask in an innocent voice, "Is a thousand years possible?" She tilted her head back and forth. "No, even a thousand years is too little. It should be at least ten thousand years."
"...It will be possible," Ferda answered, feeling dazed.
Valdrova’s mood brightened instantly. "Then I’ll prepare so I can smile really brightly. Because... I want to spend ten thousand years of bliss with Mr. Ferda."
She was the kind of woman who, if you pointed at the moon, would only look at your finger. Even in her utter foolishness, Ferda found her incredibly lovely.
The Shadow Circle no longer moved. Instead, the Red Circle was spinning wildly of its own accord. Ferda had to suppress his heart as much as possible so that his runaway emotions wouldn't ruin the mood. It was painful. He was so happy it was painful.
As if his feelings had reached her, the woman turned her head and looked up at the sky. "The moon... is beautiful."
"They say today is the day the moon is at its largest."
"I-Is that so?"
An awkwardness settled between them. It didn't seem like she had intended to start this kind of conversation. He must have caught her "foolishness."
"The Moonlight Step..."
"Yes."
"I heard it’s most beautiful when danced under the moonlight..."
"Is that... so?"
Even a fool could understand what she was getting at. Valdrova’s hands fidgeted. Ferda’s hands at his sides were also moving restlessly. Neither of them found it easy to speak up.
Asking for a dance was naturally Ferda’s role. However, there was a reason he couldn't hastily ask. Ferda was clumsy at dancing. Olivia was experienced enough to dance while humming a tune, but he was not. For Ferda to dance under this moonlight, he at least needed music. Just as she hoped for another chance, Ferda also didn't want to fail the opportunity he had grasped.
It was then that the elegant melody of a violin drifted in on the night breeze.
Ferda glanced toward the source of the sound. There, he saw a tall silhouette playing the violin. It was Jed. He was playing with great skill, but the violin alone wasn't enough to carry the rhythm. Soon, the sound of a flute joined in to fill the void, blending into a duet. The woman sitting next to Jed—Garnet—was playing the instrument.
The music they created in harmony was a waltz titled 'Moonlight.' The dance derived from that piece was the Moonlight Step.
The timing was impeccable. To suddenly play 'Moonlight' when they had just been talking about the Moonlight Step...
They’re listening to everything.
Come to think of it, wasn't this the place he had hidden to threaten the young lords and ladies? It was only natural that they had heard the conversation.
Well, does it matter?
Rather than being annoyed, he focused on the message Jed was sending. As a knight, Jed was giving him a push. Ferda had to take that chance.
"Archduchess Valdrova." A chance to make up for the mistakes they had both made. "Would you please dance with me?"
And a chance for them to be together.
Valdrova answered as brightly as the morning sun. "Yes...!"
Their hands overlapped once more. Excitement took hold. The pounding of his heart heightened the mood, and his fingers savored the feel of her skin. Under the moonlight, the man and woman surrendered their bodies to the fine melody and danced.
Even if the social gathering had been a mess, even if their clumsy dancing had been exposed to the whole world, it didn't matter. Because they were perfect for each other in a place where no one would know. That was enough for the two of them.
As the melody of 'Moonlight' concluded, they finished with a bow. Though they let go of each other's hands, their gazes lingered longingly.
"Mr. Ferda."
"Yes."
"I think... I should go now..."
"Is that so?"
Her hands, dropped to her sides, fidgeted. "It’s not that I don’t want to see Mr. Ferda... it’s just that right now, I can’t contain myself..."
Ferda felt the same way. He wanted to catch his breath alone and savor the lingering afterglow. Contrary to his heart, his body didn't move easily. It took much effort and time for their hands to slowly pull away until their fingertips finally parted.
"Please, get back safely."
"Yes."
She walked toward the edge of the garden, near the cliff. Thinking it wouldn't be proper to watch her leave, Ferda turned around. It was time to head back to the ballroom.
"Mr. Ferda!"
Valdrova’s voice, filled with courage, stopped him. Ferda turned back.
She was standing on the railing, the moon positioned right above her head. Ready to drop away at any moment, she reached for her face.
And then, she took off her mask.
In that instant, the world of monochrome black and blue was suddenly flooded with color. Ferda was overwhelmed by that unrealistic, supernatural moment. He tried to choose the right word to describe what he was seeing.
Yes. It was the sun.