Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Nobles are meant to command.
They stand above ordinary people, leading and ruling them.
It is the responsibility of those who hold power. And in return for that responsibility, they are granted dignity.
Ophelienne learned this from a very young age.
No—rather than learning, it was something instilled in her. Like breathing, accepted without doubt.
“Do you understand, Fili? The blood in you is noble. You are different from those beneath you. But to rule them, you must understand them. Only understand—never empathize.”
The moment she entered the academy, Ophelienne built her own business.
She could have inherited one of the many enterprises run by her family. In fact, everyone around her said that would be more efficient.
But she shook her head.
She didn’t want to carve her name onto a road someone else had already paved.
She had to prove it.
That she was the one who made this small business flourish.
That it was only possible because of her.
That without her, it would not work.
Only then could she proudly declare that she was worthy of this family.
She sat in an office located in the center of the city outside the academy, processing documents.
For Ophelienne, daily life meant moving between the academy dormitory and this office, balancing study and work.
Scratch, scratch…
The sound of her fountain pen gliding across paper was steady.
The ink flow, the pressure—perfectly controlled.
Numbers aligned without error.
Documents were arranged in precise order.
Her days were always like this.
Flawless. Textbook perfect.
Even when she checked the time, it was the same.
It was the hour for the Thorn Forest expedition. She already knew that.
She had only checked it.
‘Come to think of it.’
It was time for Mati to be exploring the Thorn Forest.
She attended the same class, but Ophelienne had already completed the investigation beforehand.
‘The Sword Saint’s disciple is in his group.’
Yuri Ayende.
That fresh charm unique to girls her age. The kind of beauty that made people glance back once after passing by.
It wasn’t the same type of beauty as her own, but it was enough to captivate someone as naive as Matios.
At seventeen, it wouldn’t be strange for him to fall for her.
For just a brief moment, the ink spread darker than usual.
“Big sis is the prettiest!”
The voice that suddenly surfaced was clearer than expected.
Not a fading memory, but as if it had been whispered directly into her ear.
The ink steadied again.
‘That’s impossible.’
He had always looked for her.
The most beautiful person in the world—her.
Even when they fought and drifted apart, it was always Matios who lowered his head first.
“…Noona.”
“What.”
“….”
“Speak.”
“…Sorry.”
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry… so can we get along again?”
“…Well, if you want.”
Ophelienne waited.
Just like back then, for Matios to come to her first with a sincere apology.
To cling to her like a child and bury himself in her arms.
She waited for a week.
‘This is ridiculous.’
Was it really something to be that angry about?
She recalled Matios from that day.
That harmless, deer-like face, hardened cold.
The eyes that looked at her—mixed with disappointment, anger, and emptiness.
Except for her mother, no one had ever looked at her like that before.
‘You dare look at me like that?’
It must have meant he was truly angry.
But still.
‘What’s so special about that commoner girl?’
She couldn’t understand.
She hadn’t even said anything that harsh.
She had only stated a fact.
Who in the world dislikes power and money?
Even that shepherd girl, Tiana, wouldn’t be any different.
‘Just wait. It’ll turn out exactly as I said.’
Too pure to be corrupted?
Not at all.
Power and money were not so gentle.
If anything, the purer the soul, the easier it was to drag it down to the very bottom.
Like a blank canvas being stained.
Knock knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Quistian stepped into the office with a polite motion.
Ophelienne didn’t stop her pen. Her eyes remained on the document as she spoke.
Making eye contact for trivial matters during work was inefficient.
“What is it.”
“It’s about the young master.”
Ophelienne smirked.
Of course it was.
“What about him? Is he here?”
She turned slightly, a satisfied smile forming as she glanced behind Quistian.
Quistian corrected himself.
“That is not it. The young master has been attacked.”
…Tap.
The pen stopped.
It was her hand that froze, but her breath had stopped first.
For a brief moment, the air caught in her chest.
A drop of ink fell onto the paper, leaving a stain.
Her gray eyes turned to Quistian.
Something cold ran down his spine when their gazes met.
“…He is currently hospitalized at a facility near the Thorn Forest.”
“Hospitalized.”
She murmured the word, as if entranced.
Quistian carefully chose his next words.
“Yes… hospitalized.”
“How badly is he hurt.”
“He suffered heavy blood loss and was poisoned. He is still unconscious… in critical condition.”
Before he could finish, Ophelienne stood.
She grabbed the coat beside her and put it on.
Her hands fastening the buttons were precise, each one aligned perfectly.
And yet—
there was a faint tremor at her fingertips.
So slight that even she didn’t notice.
“…My lady?”
“To the hospital.”
“…Pardon?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? I said we’re going to the hospital where he is.”
“I’ll make preparations.”
“Just prepare the route.”
Soon, Quistian brought out a sturdy warhorse.
It was the one used whenever Ophelienne needed to travel urgently.
She mounted it smoothly and kicked its side.
She checked her watch—the map to the hospital Quistian had sent.
The horse dashed forward.
Her long gray hair streamed in the wind.
She urged the horse faster.
As if sensing her urgency, it increased speed.
To her, it felt like an eternity.
In reality, it hadn’t even been thirty minutes.
When she arrived, the horse slowed on its own, breathing heavily.
Before it fully stopped, Ophelienne dismounted.
Her feet hit the ground firmly.
Her breathing was slightly uneven—but it didn’t show.
She handed off the horse casually and entered the building.
Her hand opened the door quickly.
Her steps through the corridor were steady.
Only her stride was slightly longer than usual.
She stopped in front of the hospital room.
For a brief moment, she steadied her breathing.
Then she opened the door.
Click.
A simple private room.
Matios lay on the bed, motionless as if dead.
Ophelienne swallowed and walked to his side.
His face looked peaceful.
Too peaceful for someone who had just faced death.
“Oh—you’ve arrived.”
A doctor in a white coat entered, breathing slightly heavily as if he had rushed over.
“His condition?”
“…Well.”
The doctor hesitated under her cold gaze.
“He was critical.”
“And now.”
“…I don’t know. We contacted the church in urgency, and a priest gave him a blessing. He barely escaped death.”
“And his current state.”
“He’s in recovery, but still serious. Most of his muscles have ruptured. Especially his arm—completely destroyed—”
Ophelienne raised her hand.
The doctor stopped speaking.
“That’s enough.”
After a moment, the doctor placed a small bottle on the table.
“…Give him this when he wakes up. I’ll take my leave.”
He bowed deeply and quickly exited.
Click.
The room fell silent.
Only the two of them remained.
Ophelienne pulled a chair and sat beside the bed.
Without a word, she looked down at Matios.
He looked… peaceful.
Unbelievably so.
She slowly covered her face with her hands.
And wiped it down.
—
A long time ago,
I once fell from a tree in the family courtyard.
There was a character in a novel who sat on a tree reading a book.
I admired that.
So I tried it.
I must have been clumsy.
I fell.
As my body twisted midair, my breath left me first.
Before I could even feel pain, my vision darkened.
And I wasn’t alone.
Someone was sobbing beside me.
“…I don’t want you to get hurt. Open your eyes.”
It was hard to tell if it was a dream or reality.
But it was a voice I knew.
When I turned my head, Noona was there.
She was crying.
Tears fell freely, without any dignity.
That was the first time I saw it.
That cold, distant face—
completely broken.
Her always composed expression… gone.
…The reason that memory surfaced,
was because the scene now overlapped with it.
“…Idiot.”
A low, tired voice came from beside me.
“ If it was dangerous, you should’ve just run. Why did you fight?”
Noona was looking down at me.
With a face that looked like it might burst into tears at any moment.