9. Spilt Water Never Returns (覆水不返) - 06
9. Spilt Water Never Returns (覆水不返) - 06
The conversation with Duke Dekaraznan continued, but regrettably, his words barely reached my ears. My attention had fixed entirely on Sarah, whom I had just glimpsed. Why was she here? As far as I remembered, in the future she had never possessed any connection to the Dekaraznan Ducal House.
Had the future changed?
No. To be perfectly honest, the future had already changed beyond recognition. So much had shifted that the past I once knew had shattered without a trace. Had history followed its original course, a woman named Aria would not have existed in this world at this point, and Bianca would have remained holed up in House Castana, never emerging. Disasters like the Imperial Princess descending or Ariel abandoning everything to rush to the Estel Ducal House for my sake alone would never have occurred.
But my entanglements with Sarah after my regression had been few. True, when she inadvertently witnessed Aria sleeping soundly on my bed, it accelerated our broken engagement—but to put it another way, that was the extent of it. I don't call it merely "the extent of it" because I am an overwhelmingly magnanimous and generous man. Rather, since the broken engagement with Sarah had already happened before my regression, being jilted now or a year later mattered little to me.
...Surely not.
A memory from the Imperial Palace flickered through my mind: the conversation I'd had with Sarah there. Her face as she wore that sorrowful smile, pleading with me to take her into the Estel Ducal House.
- ...You don't know anything. What I had to give up, just to bring myself to say this to you.
...Damn it.
After finishing my talk with Duke Dekaraznan and stepping out of his office, I could not suppress a sigh. It wasn't that any romantic feelings for Sarah remained, but I could do nothing to stop my gaze from being drawn toward her. And recalling the promise Sarah and I had made on that terrace only made it worse.
As I made my way toward the reception room, I found a prior guest already present. My eyes fell on Sarah, pacing with an agitation she couldn't quite settle. She was trying to keep her expression composed, but anxiety and tension already seeped unmistakably from her entire body. Watching this pathetic state of a woman who had always stood so proudly before me, I fought to suppress an inexplicable surge of irritation and called her name.
"Sarah."
At my low, quiet voice, she finally turned her gaze toward me. The instant our eyes met, I noticed her anxious expression relax, if only slightly.
"...Ka—no. Young Duke Estel."
Sarah had been about to call me by name, as she had in the past, but then caught herself. Remembering our relationship was no longer what it once was, she addressed me with an honorific. Tritely, I was reminded once more that she and I were now nothing to each other—neither betrothed nor anything else. I wasn't claiming any romantic feelings remained for her now, yet the bitterness lingered: how had the two of us, who had once called each other by name, ended up in such straits?
"If you don't mind, could we talk for a moment?"
"....."
When I extended my hand, Sarah faltered for a moment. But soon, as if steeling her resolve, she reached out and placed her hand obediently in mine.
"...If you would have me, I shall. Young Duke."
But it was then. The middle-aged man who had been wordlessly standing by her side all the while, a sword at his waist, suddenly seized her arm tightly.
"Sarah, where exactly do you intend to go? You are a girl utterly devoid of sense, no matter how much time passes. We are not here to amuse ourselves. You know that better than anyone, and yet you dare such rashness?"
"...Uncle, I..."
"Hold your tongue. I have no wish to raise my voice at you even in a place such as this."
Sarah grimaced, clearly pained by his grip locked tight around her arm. But the middle-aged man roughly yanked her toward himself as if her discomfort meant nothing. It was an attitude that treated her not as a person, but as an object.
"...Sarah."
This was treatment one could scarcely believe was being inflicted on the treasured daughter of a count's house. A rush of heat surged to my head, and I stepped forward before the man.
"What exactly do you think you're doing? Treating a defenseless woman like this."
My words prompted the middle-aged man to frown even while still holding Sarah, but he soon released her arm readily enough.
"...Ngh."
Sarah bit her lip and soothed her own arm, the pain apparently still throbbing where he had grabbed her. The man, on the other hand, seemed to feel not a shred of guilt for his actions. He merely prattled on with a shameless, impassive expression.
"...It is an internal family matter, Young Duke Estel. As her uncle, is it not my place to discipline an ill-mannered niece?"
"To leave a woman's delicate forearm in this state—you truly call that discipline?"
I raised my voice at him, showing him the vivid red bruise blossoming on Sarah's pale white arm.
"Young Duke Estel. Did Your Grace not break off your engagement with my niece, leaving you in a relationship that is now no relationship at all? Why, then, do you show such concern for Sarah?"
Ignoring his pointed barbs—heavy with the insinuation that I must still harbor feelings for Sarah if I was siding with her—I took swift hold of her hand. Part of me wanted to give that insolent bastard a piece of my mind, but a worm like him was not what mattered now. A bastard like that I could trample anytime later. Sarah was not like that.
"Ka—Kain...?"
"I'll borrow Sarah for a moment. I merely intend to treat her arm and return her. No need for undue concern."
Leaving those words for the middle-aged man, I pulled Sarah toward me and walked out of the reception room. Breathing the same air as a damned bastard who treated his own niece like dirt—it couldn't be anything but thoroughly unpleasant.
"...Kain."
And the most infuriating part of it all was this foolish woman who, while putting on such an intellectual act before me, couldn't utter a single squeak in front of her own uncle.
"...Ha."
A fresh realization settled over me. Merely standing idly by, watching a woman I had once loved receive such shit treatment from another—it was never going to be pleasant.
****
"...Thank you. As always, I find myself in your debt. Kain."
After I had brought Sarah to the room assigned by the Dekaraznan Ducal House and we were finally alone, those were the first words out of her mouth. The expression she wore as she said it was neither consumed by shame nor colored by humiliation at being treated that way in front of me.
What I felt from her was only a bitter, profound familiarity. As if that cursed man she called Uncle had treated her like that again and again, over and over, until her spirit had been utterly worn away—she merely responded with blank resignation.
...And that fact only stoked my anger further. Of course, I had vaguely anticipated something like this. That night of the banquet, she had said it to me clearly enough. Take me in, she had begged. She wished for me and the Estel Ducal House to become her place of refuge.
So I had vaguely suspected that the hidden aspect of Sarah Sernad was not as bright and beautiful as the image she presented to the world. That behind that facade, some hardship I knew nothing about surely lurked.
But this was far too much. No—there is a vast difference between imagining something and seeing it with your own eyes. I had never imagined that Sarah received this sort of treatment from her own family. If they behaved like this while I was openly watching, I truly didn't want to imagine how she was treated when no other eyes were on her.
"...Why didn't you speak up sooner?"
"About what?"
At her perfectly composed, indifferent response, I lifted her arm. The stark red bruise was still vivid there, despite the time that had passed.
"Tell me to help. Tell me to save you. Tell me you were getting treated like this by your own family! Why didn't you speak sooner?!"
The anger flared. The more I thought, the more I felt like a complete fool. Now, I felt a crushing regret about the past—the times I had pretended to be hurt just to see her face, testing her love; the conversation on the terrace, where my attempt to probe her feelings had resulted in humiliating words thrown her way. I just wanted to kill my past self, who had thought only of my own feelings, completely oblivious to the state of her heart when she stood before me, or whatever circumstances she might have endured.
"...It hurts."
When Sarah looked up at me and said those words, I finally realized I had been far too worked up. If this kept up, I would be no different from that beast of an uncle who had left this bruise on her.
"...I'm sorry."
As I spoke, I pulled an ointment from my inner pocket and slowly began applying it to her forearm. This ointment was something Bianca had personally crafted for me using alchemy—a medicine that boasted the incredible ability to heal almost any wound in moments. Bianca had forcibly tucked it into my chest, telling me never to get hurt, but I had never imagined it would be used for something like this.
As I quietly applied the ointment to her arm, Sarah's expression noticeably improved, the pain seemingly soothed at last. Sure enough, she had definitely been forcing herself to endure it until now.
"...It was humiliating."
"What?"
"Humiliating, I said. I was so utterly humiliated by myself—acting like some refined noble lady before you, when in truth, I was receiving that kind of treatment from my own family. That's why I didn't say anything. No—I couldn't. I'm a woman too. I didn't want even the slightest hint of pity in another man's eyes."
With those words, Sarah gently closed her eyes. A firm signal that she had no wish to discuss this matter with me further. Having known her for a long time, I realized it would be difficult to make her open up again. So I decided to ask a different question.
"...Then what is your reason for staying at the Dekaraznan Ducal House? No matter how I think about it, I can't find any link connecting House Sernad and the Dekaraznan Ducal House."
To my question, Sarah merely nodded, as if to confirm my suspicion was correct.
"That is precisely the reason, Kain."
"...What do you mean?"
"Currently, no link exists between House Sernad and the Dekaraznan Ducal House. I was sent here to forge a bridge between the two houses by any means necessary. Yes, that is how it appears on the surface."
"...On the surface?"
"That's right. The truth is, House Sernad ordered me to use my own body as bait and seduce the Young Duke Dekaraznan. Yes—like some dirty whore on the street who lures men for a few coins."
A self-mocking smile lingered on Sarah's lips as she said that.
"Do you understand now, Kain? Just what kind of situation a woman like me has endured within House Sernad?"