10. What Happened One Night - 05
A few days after that confidential conversation between Sarah and Duke Dekaraznan, Sarah walked alone behind the mansion, one hand pressed to her temple. She had hoped fresh air might cool her head.
Whenever the duke's words surfaced, her mind tangled unbearably. It ached. She was irritated, too. She couldn't even grasp what state she was in. One thing was certain: since that day, no matter how she tried, peace would not come.
'...Could it really happen?'
The duke had told her that before long, he intended to push forward with marriage talks between Kain and Lady Dekaraznan. He was also considering sending a matchmaker to House Estel—
'...It can't be. He must have been floating a thought.'
She had been through an engagement with Kain herself, so she knew. Marriage was not something swiftly settled, like roasting beans on a lightning bolt, as the duke had put it. Just as Kain and Sarah's engagement had involved a back-and-forth of political and material interests between House Estel and House Sernad, marriage was, in truth, a major transaction between two families.
Put bluntly, it would be no exaggeration to call marriage a business deal in which each house put up its children as collateral. Even the empire's great ducal houses were no exception. No—precisely because they were families of that stature, they would surely be more cautious about entering into marriage.
That much was clear. She understood better than anyone that the duke's words—that he was considering a political marriage between his daughter and Kain—were literally nothing more than consideration. Had he been genuinely resolved to pursue such a match, he never would have summoned her merely to ask that question. Why would he divulge privileged information to her, practically an outsider, about a possible engagement between the Young Duke Estel and Lady Dekaraznan?
No matter how she weighed it, the chance those marriage talks would actually succeed was nearly nonexistent. It was all her own groundless anxiety. She could only find herself pitiful for agonizing over a remark the duke had tossed out so casually.
...Yes, if she thought about it rationally, Sarah's conclusion was surely the right one.
But right now, absurd delusions kept cycling unstoppably inside her head.
What if—this was entirely hypothetical, of course—something that would never happen in reality, something that must not happen—but what if Kain decided to accept a political marriage with Lady Dekaraznan? Just as House Estel had once arranged Kain's engagement to Sarah for House Sernad's wealth, what if this time Kain was swayed by the towering prestige of the Dekaraznan Ducal House and the immense dowry the lady would bring, and agreed to the match?
...Ridiculous. The man she knew as Kain von Estel was not so shallow as to be swayed by material gain into a decision of that magnitude. But at the same time, Sarah knew all too well the mindset Kain held toward his people.
Put simply, he was a noble of the old type. She didn't mean it negatively. Unlike the many greedy nobles who saw their people as nothing but sources of tax revenue, Kain genuinely believed a lord should pity and care for his people—as if he had stepped out of a storybook. A rare sort.
In the past, when she had thoroughly disliked Kain personally, even Sarah had been forced to acknowledge that side of him. Without that quality, she would have long since withdrawn all affection for him, and their engagement would have shattered far sooner. House Sernad had never intended to sustain the betrothal for long anyway.
Yet now, that very quality had become nothing but a source of dread for Sarah. She knew the materially impoverished state of the Estel Duchy too well. If Duke Dekaraznan approached Kain with material support as bait and proposed a political marriage, would he still dismiss a match with the Dekaraznan lady so easily?
'...No. Kain wouldn't do that.'
She was afraid. At the thought that he might marry another woman, pain tore through her as if her living flesh were being ripped apart. It was only a thought, and yet her chest hurt so much she could hardly bear it.
...But of all the terrors, the most terrible was the possibility that Kain and Lady Dekaraznan might genuinely fall in love.
'...No.'
Before she knew it, she was imagining it. What would happen if Kain and Lady Dekaraznan truly fell in love.
At first, it was a businesslike, stiff relationship born of political convenience. But they talked together, dined together, strolled together—shared so many things together—and gradually, they grew closer.
'...No.'
Perhaps it was only a matter of small differences. Perhaps the long hours spent together had simply worn away all reserve between them. Yet the sight of Kain treating the lady a little more warmly, and the lady smiling shyly as if she didn't dislike it, made them look like a perfectly matched pair. Their image felt only beautiful.
'...I hate this.'
Two people once strangers drew closer that way. At first, even standing face-to-face had been awkward, but the more time they shared, the more the walls crumbled. Before long, they thought nothing of fingertips lightly brushing, and when they walked together, Kain would gently take the lady's hand. Feeling his steady touch, the lady would blush, yet she didn't seem to mind, and would simply hold his hand in return.
'...I said I hate this.'
Bit by bit, the two became lovers. To anyone who saw them, they were a perfect couple in love. Their voices toward each other grew so warm. Their private time only increased with each passing day. Hand in hand, embracing was not enough—they began to kiss. Watching secretly as their tongues explored each other's mouths, she saw only her own shabby self, telling herself it couldn't be helped, they were lovers after all.
'...Stop.'
At last, marriage came for the two who were lovers. Though the match was made for political purposes, only love remained between them. Every guest save Sarah was there simply to celebrate the beautiful couple's wedding. Everyone smiled, but Sarah's face as she watched them with dark eyes, as if she alone had fallen into a strange land, was a truly pitiful sight.
'Please.'
Kain in his ducal formalwear and the lady in a pure white wedding dress exchanged rings. The moment Kain pulled off the old engagement ring from his left hand and discarded it like worn-out shoes, he slipped the wedding band the lady gave him onto his finger. The engagement ring he threw away rolled to a corner of the wedding hall like trash. Watching their ring tumble across the floor, Sarah thought only that its state must resemble her own right now.
'Don't do this. Please.'
At last, the two houses were joined in marriage. Under everyone's blessing, two lips met and soft breaths tickled each other's faces. All the guests rose to their feet, cheering and applauding. Only Sarah, her face twisted with a muddle of jealousy, despair, hatred, and regret, hung her head low.
'Kain.'
Her heart throbbed with anguish. Why—why was she simply standing there watching their wedding? If only—if only she had not broken the engagement, if she had kept their betrothal, if she had clung to him and said she loved him, refusing to yield to her family's pressure—
"Aaaaaaaah!"
Unable to endure any longer, Sarah collapsed to the ground.
...It was a delusion. All of it. Nothing but a delusion, nothing but imagination. A scenario of what might happen if Kain and the lady truly fell in love and reached marriage.
...And yet it hurt. Though it was only a simple imagining, though she knew perfectly well it was all a fantasy her own mind had fabricated, her chest throbbed. No—in truth, she knew. The imaginings she had just entertained were not simple imagination. They were her weakness—the darkness that had lain in the deepest part of her heart.
"...Hah."
It was ridiculous. She seemed so utterly pathetic. She had never imagined that foolish delusions like those could make her heart ache this much. How had she become such an ugly woman? How—in the world. Why.
- I truly hate seeing you in the arms of a man you don't love.
- So, get up now. You weren't such a weak woman—not the you I know.
"...You bastard..."
Remembering the face of a certain man that flickered through her mind, Sarah buried her face against her knees where she crouched. It was all that man's fault. Every bit of it. That she had become such a fool, that her heart pounded just at the thought of his face, that her chest felt carved hollow the moment she imagined him with another woman—it was all because of him.
...And yet, she couldn't blame him in the end. Because it was all her own fault.
It was she who had found him unsatisfactory, she who had not loved him when he loved her. It was she who, upon seeing the white-haired girl in his bed, had not even thought to hear his explanation—she who had rushed back to House Sernad and declared she wanted to break the engagement.
Yes, all of it was caused by her—the outcome of the choices she herself had made.
So this pain, this sorrow, this regret she suffered here and now—all of it was hers to bear. Surely she was receiving punishment. The original sin of having once made him suffer in unrequited love was being repaid to her now.
Because to him, she truly had been a terrible woman.
But it was at that moment. From somewhere, the sound of a man and a woman talking softly reached her ears.
"Ah, Young Duke. We meet in a place like this. What brings you to the rear garden?"
"...Lady Dekaraznan?"
She had witnessed Kain and Noel von Dekaraznan encountering each other by chance along the path.
The sensation of her breath stopping outright struck her. She wanted to say something to the two of them standing there, but something seemed caught in her throat, and no words came.
After a short exchange, they began walking toward the spot where she was collapsed. The sound of footsteps drew closer. Flustered, Sarah hid herself behind a nearby pillar without thinking.
She didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't understand why she was hiding.
...The only thing consuming her heart was a dark, repulsive desire to know what exactly the two of them might do when they were alone together.
In this moment, Sarah Sernad was terribly ugly—terribly furtive.
She was nothing more than a single,
truly wretched woman.