Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 102

If only I knew who it was, Isaac thought.

He lowered his gaze, caught in thought. If only he knew who the person was the one she missed so desperately then maybe he wouldn’t feel like a man running without knowing what he was chasing.

But the moment that thought crossed his mind, he realized it was a lie he was telling himself.

The truth was, he wanted her to see him not whoever had been in her past. That quiet longing had slowly taken root in his heart.

He had promised himself on the day they got engaged that he would become the man she wanted. But no matter how hard he tried, greed — the desire to be seen, to be chosen — kept rising up inside him.

He swallowed a sigh as Calliope handed him a bracelet — a deep blue onyx piece she’d selected to match the gem on his cufflinks.
Can’t she just look at me now? he thought.

“See? This one suits you, too.”

“Yes.”

But he couldn’t say the rest out loud — not with her smiling so brightly at him. That smile of hers, like the sun in his world, was enough to silence everything else.

That day was spent entirely picking out Isaac’s outfit and accessories. By the time they finished, Calliope was completely exhausted and returned to her room, while Isaac, as usual, headed to the training grounds to complete his scheduled practice.

But someone unexpected was waiting there.

Tilting his head slightly, Isaac asked,
“What brings you here, Lady Berchia?”

Her hair was tied high, and as she turned to face him, she spoke.

“I have something to say to you.”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

“……”

“I made sure Calliope wouldn’t find out. Let’s talk somewhere else. It won’t take long.”

“…Understood.”

Berchia led him behind the training grounds. Since the sun was just about to set, most of the knights had already left. Isaac stood near a tree, and Berchia leaned against it. For a long while, neither of them spoke.

“If you have nothing to say, I’ll just—”

“Is your patience reserved only for your fiancée?”

“Yes.”

“You two are hopeless with words.”

Clicking her tongue, she crossed her arms and faced him. Berchia looked like someone who had spent a long time debating whether she had the right to interfere. After hesitating, moving her lips several times, she finally spoke.

“I don’t think it’s good for either of you that you keep enduring everything like this. Not for you, and not for Calliope.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“If it’s really true that she’s mistaking you for someone she once loved, then someone needs to wake her up to reality.”

“But… if she’s happy, do we have to?”

Berchia’s face twisted in frustration. She stomped her foot hard enough to scatter dust from the ground.

“I don’t get you. If she’s acting like this, shouldn’t you be the first to step up and help her? You’re just going to stand by and do nothing because she looks happy?”

“…I…”

“I know exactly what you’re about to say! You’ve only ever received from her. So now you think, who are you to ruin her happiness, right?”

Isaac opened his mouth to respond — then closed it again. Because she was right.

Can I really be the one to shatter the illusion she finds joy in?
Am I allowed to take away the smile she wears because of someone else?
The fear of losing that smile — even if it wasn’t meant for him — made him hesitate.

But Berchia shook her head, firmly rejecting that way of thinking.

“You do have the right. You’re her fiancé.”

“…And that alone is enough?”

“It’s not just ‘enough’!”

She snapped, raising her voice. It was loud enough that the few remaining knights glanced over in concern. The tension in the air made them quickly turn back to their training, pretending not to notice.

“You’re her fiancé. Do you get that?”

She frowned and extended a hand, squeezing it into a fist.

“You’re someone who has the right to stand beside her, to support her, and to protect her with pride. That means you also have the right to break her illusion — because it’s for her sake.”

From Berchia’s point of view, if Calliope truly was mistaking Isaac for someone else, it could be a sign of something deeply wrong — a serious psychological condition. Letting her continue down that path just because she appeared happy could lead to something far more dangerous.

If you’ve noticed something is wrong, you should help her heal — not ignore it under the illusion of peace.

“…Of course, what you decide to do is your choice. Just… think carefully about what’s really best for Calliope.”

“……”

When he didn’t respond, Berchia sighed and shook her head. Then she turned away from him and muttered,

“If you don’t do something… then I won’t hold back either.”

Isaac watched her walk away.

“You think you’re the only one who loves her?”

“…No,” he said quietly.

“Do you really think you’re the only one who cares about her?”

“…No.”

“She says she can’t live without you — that’s the only reason everyone is holding back. Because she keeps crying out that it has to be you. But what if… it’s not really you?”

Berchia bit her lip.

“Then I have no reason to hold back either.”

A breeze swept between them. Her violet hair, his black hair — both fluttered in the cold wind. Isaac opened his mouth several times before he finally spoke, his voice barely audible.

“Do I… even have the right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean… someone like me, do I have the right to take away her happiness?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

Berchia gave a bitter smile, her face twisting with irritation. She couldn’t believe how much she was backing off, only for this idiot to keep standing still. But she took a deep breath and pushed through. Because what she was saying — it was for Calliope’s sake.

“You’re supposed to be her happiness. Not some fake joy, but the real thing.”

“Real… happiness.”

“Yes.”

With that, Berchia turned and strode away from the training grounds. A chill wind continued to blow, the kind that carried the weight of snow. And so, Isaac returned to his room without finishing his training for the day.

“To shatter her illusion… me, shattering her illusion…”

He sat on the edge of his bed, repeating the thought over and over.

“Lady Anastas…”

He bit his lip hard. He felt like crying. He’d believed that he was happy enough now. But the place Berchia had struck with her words hurt too deeply.

“Calliope…”

My Calliope.
A wish so large, yet so small — that she might truly become his.

While he sank deeper into thought, snow began to fall again outside his window. Just as thickly as the thoughts piling up in his mind.

And so, at last, the day Calliope had quietly dreaded arrived — the day the Saintess of the Empire was to visit.
The royal palace, in the heart of winter, bloomed brighter than ever before. A grand banquet was being held in honor of the Saintess.

Calliope was required to attend, and so from early morning, her maids fussed around her, preparing her appearance. Normally, she would pick out her own accessories with care — but today, her hands moved with an uncharacteristic lack of energy. Still, every choice she made — the dress, the jewels — was perfectly suited to her.

The maids whispered among themselves.

“She doesn’t seem well today.”

“Yet look at how she still picks out the perfect pieces.”

“Must be the cold. It’s draining her energy.”

Worried, the maids continued to dress her with extra care. They brushed her hair until it shimmered, added a touch of color to her pale face, and dusted her long lashes with makeup mixed with gold powder.

Despite the biting cold, Calliope chose a dress that left her shoulders bare. She would wear a thick sable cloak later, but the maids kept offering other coats out of concern.

“This one suits me best,” she said softly.

The white dress left her shoulders exposed, billowed gently at the upper arms, cinched neatly at the elbows, and flared again at the wrists. The skirt, tight around the waist, flowed out in soft, rich layers. Platinum embroidery shimmered like snowflakes whenever she moved. Altogether, she looked like a woman sculpted out of winter itself.

She completed the look with sapphire earrings and a matching necklace, along with a bracelet made of platinum. Standing before the mirror, she was breathtaking — so beautiful that no one could argue otherwise — yet her face carried a quiet sadness.

Susan, gently curling and arranging Calliope’s hair, asked with concern:

“Are you feeling unwell today, my lady?”

“I’m fine. I’m not sick.”

“Then… what is it?”

“It’s just… my mood.”

Susan, ever perceptive, knew just how to lift her spirits.

“Sir Esteban has been waiting for you since earlier.”

“I see.”

It was about Isaac. But strangely, Calliope’s expression darkened further. Susan noticed it, puzzled, but managed to hide her concern so as not to worsen her lady’s mood.

Finally, with every detail polished to perfection, Calliope stepped out of her room.

And there he was — Isaac — waiting just outside, exactly where he should be.

She took in his appearance, dressed impeccably for the occasion. A deep blue suit, embroidered with threads of platinum. The same shimmering threads flowed delicately from his cuffs and lapels, matching her own ensemble perfectly. It was almost as if the two of them had coordinated their looks.

Calliope saw his face — and despite herself, she smiled.

“Did you wait long?”

“I just got here.”

“Liar.”

Even if magic kept the mansion warm, the hallways were always colder than the rooms. She reached out and took his hand. It was cold. Holding it between her own, she gently blew warm breath onto his fingers.

“If your hand’s cold when you touch my waist later, you’ll scare me.”

Her teasing tone made Isaac give a small, awkward smile. It was a smile meant only for her.

Moved by that smile, Calliope softly brushed her fingers across his cheek — and then kissed it.

And so, the two of them set off for the palace to meet the Saintess of the Empire.
One, unaware of the fate ahead.
The other, determined to rewrite it.

As a strange tension lingered in Calliope’s expression, Isaac held her hand tightly, over and over,  as if trying to keep both their hands from growing cold.

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