It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 6.4

Rayan pressed his throbbing temple and answered wearily.

 

“That again.”

 

How long would she keep talking about Caesar and only care about Caesar? What mattered now wasn’t the child—it was his wife.

 

But Ines didn’t give up.

 

“It’s already been a week since you last looked for Caesar.”

 

At least go see him and hold him once. It was what she always said whenever she saw him. But today, her words were longer.

 

“Please protect Caesar, Your Grace.”

 

And now, she was saying strange things. Her face carried a solemn expression, as if this was her final deal with him.

 

Anxiety, which had seemed to fade, rose again. Rayan always felt this way when Ines acted or spoke differently.

 

To hide his trembling emotions, Rayan answered coldly.

 

“Of course I will. Eleanor’s child deserves treatment that matches Eleanor’s status.”

 

Caesar was Eleanor’s heir.

 

He was Rayan’s son—who else could be the heir? This was nonsense.

 

“Let’s end this useless talk here. The reason I called you today is…”

 

He wanted to ask if she knew anything about Kyra—something he didn’t.

 

But Rayan couldn’t finish his sentence. He saw her dark blue eyes filled with tears.

 

They weren’t the lifeless eyes he had seen over the past months.

 

They were filled with deep resentment. Pain too deep to measure. Desperation. Sadness. All the world’s negative emotions churned inside those eyes.

 

She whispered, pouring out all those feelings.

 

“I hate you.”

 

“What?”

 

“I really, really hate you.”

 

I regret the day I chose you more than anything.

 

I curse the fact that I loved you.

 

Everything she whispered ignited the unknown fear inside him.

 

“You curse it, huh.”

 

His heart pounded like a drum across his body.

 

“Do you think I don’t?”

 

Yes. If it’s a curse, then it is. His feelings swung to extremes whenever he saw her.

 

He got up and moved closer to her. But the moment he saw her pale face, his stirred emotions settled a little.

 

“…Ines, are you still angry at me?”

 

He wasn’t talking about last week. He meant that autumn long ago, in Laika. When she stopped saying she loved him.

 

He gently brushed her dark, fine hair off her forehead and spoke softly.

 

“I’m sorry about back then. I wasn’t in my right mind either.”

 

He tried to calm her down, but his voice kept turning sharp. He barely held it back.

 

“So stop this tantrum. Provoking me like this—it’s not a smart choice. You know that.”

 

He didn’t want to lock her up in a room again, like he did that autumn.

 

He said something else too, but he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

 

Biting the inside of his lip, he pressed his lips to the black strands of hair that wrapped around his hand.

 

If only she could say that confession again, the one she used to say like a habit—just once—maybe this mess inside him would ease.

 

I love you…

 

Just once, if he could hear those words again…

 

And at that moment, Ines moved her lips.

 

“Even if there’s another life after this, let’s never meet again.”

 

That was the last thing she ever said to him.

 

Let’s never meet again.

 

Rayan blankly repeated her words in his head.

 

The way Ines tilted her teacup felt slow and unreal. It was tea he had poured for her with his own hands.

 

The bitter scent of the tea pierced his nose. Like a drug, it dulled his thoughts…

 

The vague anxiety that had been haunting him broke past its limit in an instant. Rayan instinctively reached out to her.

 

“Wait, Ine—”

 

And the next moment, Rayan couldn’t tell what had just happened.

 

The completely empty teacup was placed with a clink on the table.

 

Ines’s pale hand dropped powerlessly from the handle.

 

Cough. She let out a small cough. A faint trace of red appeared on her dry lips.

 

Her long black hair fluttered like it was dancing in his sight. Her blue eyes, full of resentment, stayed fixed on him.

 

As her frail body swayed, Rayan jumped to his feet.

 

“Ines!”

 

Bang! The chair he had been sitting on toppled over and crashed to the floor. But Rayan didn’t hear the noise.

 

He rushed to catch her collapsing body.

 

What trickled from her slightly parted lips was clearly fresh blood.

 

Without hesitation, Rayan shouted,

 

“Alveron!”

 

His aide, waiting outside, quickly opened the door at his master’s furious voice.

 

When Alveron saw the unconscious woman in his master’s arms, his eyes widened in panic. Rayan barked,

 

“What are you standing there for? Get the physician!”

 

A commotion rose among the servants lined up in the hallway.

 

His vision turned black, then white. Someone took Ines from his arms.

 

“…Take her to my bedroom. And from now on, no one is allowed in this room.”

 

He barely managed to say that and grabbed the table for support. He bent over, trying to calm his pounding heart. In his shaky vision, he saw the empty teacup.

 

Rayan picked up the cup Ines had drunk from. It was empty.

 

His breath quickened. He bit down on his lip until it bled and picked up the other cup he had poured himself.

 

“I, I…”

 

Alveron approached, gasping for breath. But he didn’t stop him. Rayan drank all the tea inside without hesitation.

 

The overly bitter taste spread through his mouth. It was strong, but he recognized the smell of the Menent root. It was tea he often drank.

 

Rayan placed the cup down with a frozen face.

 

It wasn’t poison. But then why…?

 

The cup wobbled, then fell off the table.

 

Crash!

 

Rayan looked down.

 

The shattered teacup—and his trembling hand.

 

The hand that had wrapped around her thin shoulders was shaking violently.

 

He stared at his hands in confusion. He had poured the tea for her. She drank it and collapsed.

 

The tea wasn’t poisoned, just a little strong…

 

Why?

 

Why?

 

When Rayan returned to his bedroom, he faced a reality too hard to believe.

 

A maid was sitting under the canopy, crying.

 

A familiar face. She had been Ines’s personal maid until a few years ago, then disappeared. He thought he had seen her once in the basement, cleaning a window.

 

Rayan blankly repeated her words.

 

“…Dead?”

 

The bed canopy was drawn down.

 

The suffocating air crushed his lungs. Rayan forced out a voice.

 

“Move.”

 

“Y-Your Grace…”

 

“I said move.”

 

The maid backed away, tears streaming down her face.

 

Rayan clenched his fists painfully and stepped forward. He lifted the canopy.

 

And then he faced what he had been ignoring all this time.

 

The true shape of the dread he had felt for months.

 

It was the shadow of death.

 

Her closed eyelids didn’t move. His eyes traced the blood-stained lips, the delicate jaw, the thin body above the blanket.

 

“Ines.”

 

She was the woman who always responded when he called her name.

 

“Ines?”

 

But this time, there was no response.

 

Rayan lifted the blanket and picked up her thin wrist.

 

If he gripped too hard, it felt like it would break.

 

No pulse.

 

His jaw clenched tightly.

 

Rayan hurriedly placed his hand over her left chest.

 

A heartbeat that the living should have—there was none.

 

No breath on his skin.

 

His mind told him what all this meant. But he couldn’t understand it. It felt too unreal.

 

A low voice came up from his throat.

 

“What… happened?”

 

The physician, who had been standing nervously nearby, bent over hastily.

 

“W-We had no signs until yesterday… I only gave her tea like always…”

 

“What tea?”

 

“A-A tea brewed from Menent root. It’s known to boost energy temporarily… Your Grace knows it well.”

 

The old physician bit his lip, hiding his face.

 

Which foolish woman had served that tea to the Grand Duchess during tea time with the Grand Duke?

 

“You said it was good for a quick recovery?”

 

The crying maid lifted her head. It was Berry, who had run up from the basement the moment she heard Ines had died. She shouted in a sharp voice.

 

“You knew what that tea would do to her!”

 

Rayan froze as realization hit him like a wave.

 

The side effects of Menent tea. He knew.

 

Tea made from over-steeped Menent root causes abnormal heartbeat and rapid blood circulation.

 

For healthy people, it only causes mild overstimulation. But for someone weak, it could cause instant shock. It was poison.

 

Rayan whispered with his dried-up voice,

 

“She had no chronic illness, you said.”

 

No. He hadn’t trusted the physician’s words for weeks now.

 

But still, he didn’t know what illness Ines had been suffering from.

 

Berry sobbed.

 

“She said… she’d never drink it again…”

 

“Ines did?”

 

He couldn’t breathe. Rayan looked down at the maid kneeling at his feet.

 

“You knew?”

 

You knew what kind of tea that was?