It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 7.10

She had refused even a marriage with the crown prince and had gone so far as to send a proposal to Eleanor instead. It was an intense, one-sided love.

 

A few words wouldn’t be enough to change her mind.

 

In the end, Count Irope gave in.

 

“…Fine, I understand. When the duke visits Lezan later, I’ll bring it up again.”

 

Celia bit the inside of her lip and turned her head to look out the carriage window.

 

She was acting stubborn like a child, but in truth, she had felt something during the duchess’s funeral a month ago, when she faced the duke.

 

There’s always a similarity in the eyes of those consumed by something deeply.

 

“Right now… the duke seems to be going through a sensitive time. After a few months, he’ll probably return to how he used to be. But really… why did that corpse not rot at all, lying there like she’s just asleep…?”

 

No, Father… Celia muttered to herself.

 

I don’t think he can escape the feelings that are eating him up from the inside. Just like me.

 

The one thing that beautiful and strong ruler couldn’t have—the person he lost right in front of his eyes. He’ll never escape her ghost for the rest of his life.

 

There was no room in his heart for someone like her. She felt pathetic for being happy when she heard the lowborn duchess had died, thinking she finally had a chance.

 

Besides, she truly didn’t understand.

 

Who was that woman, really? What did she mean to you, that everyone else pointed fingers at her, yet you…?

 

What did I lack compared to her, that you won’t even reply to a letter, and only give me that cold look…?

 

How could that illegitimate woman hold onto such a beautiful man so tightly and never let go?

 

Celia leaned her head against the window and tightly closed her eyes.

 

“I’m sorry, Father… I know I should come to my senses now, but I don’t know why I just can’t…”

 

She didn’t get to finish her sentence.

 

With a loud, ominous clatter, the carriage jolted violently.

 

“What’s happening?!”

 

Count Irope frowned and raised his voice at the coachman.

 

Celia gripped the window frame tightly and looked out at the open land.

 

“…!”

 

The carriage tilted dangerously to one side. It couldn’t regain its balance and kept leaning further.

 

In Celia’s wide golden eyes, the muddy ground rushed toward her.

 

Before a scream could escape her red lips, it all happened in an instant.

 

A horse stumbled, and the carriage flipped over completely.

 

 

Floating on the surface of a much deeper puddle than it seemed from afar, red hair spread out in a tangled mess.

 

Whether it was from the hair or the strong metallic smell of blood, the water turned bright red.

 

The woman’s pale face was also covered in red blood.

 

As she was half-consumed by the shadow of death, black leather shoes stepped onto the ground in front of her.

 

Celia looked at the dark shadow and thought, That must be the reaper coming to take me.

 

So this is how death comes—so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

 

[Do you want to die like this?]

 

But when the reaper spoke, even as her mind grew distant, Celia was surprised by the unexpected words.

 

It looked human but clearly wasn’t. It slowly bent down and held her chin.

 

Sharp green eyes filled her blurry vision.

 

Her lips were already cold and stiff, so Celia asked desperately with her eyes.

 

Can I… not die?

 

[If you stay like this, you will. Your body has no chance of survival.]

 

Please save me. I don’t want to die!

 

[Really?]

 

As if it had expected that answer, the darkness responded smoothly.

 

[If you could come back to life in someone else’s body, what would you choose, human?]

 

Was it because the man’s eyes reminded her of someone?

 

Celia thought of the duke who lost his wife, and of the duchess’s unrotting body.

 

That… that woman. If I could live again in her body…

 

The darkness whispered temptingly.

 

[Don’t you want him? That man. He really is so attractive.]

 

Celia thought as if under a spell.

 

Yes… I want him.

 

I envy the duchess who was just a bastard but received such overwhelming love…

 

I’m going to die and disappear like this anyway. Then I’d rather…

 

The darkness smiled kindly. It had clearly read her thoughts.

 

[Yes. You’re clever.]

 

The cold hand that had lifted Celia’s chin slid up her face and covered her eyes.

 

[This won’t be a bad choice for you, either…]

 

A final breath escaped between her parted red lips.

 

That fragile breath didn’t cross the boundary between life and death but was instead drawn fully into the embrace of the darkness.

 

As her soul left and only an empty shell remained, Kian smiled in satisfaction.

 

[Wait. You will get what you want.]

 

That was Celia Irope’s final memory.

 

 

The terrible night gradually faded, and dawn began to break over the duchy.

 

Rayan stood in the middle of the garden connecting the mansion and the chapel.

 

Ines was gone.

 

And no matter how hard they searched, she was nowhere to be found near the mansion.

 

Rayan clenched his jaw in front of the knight who reported, “No one came near the mansion last night.”

 

I let my guard down again…

 

Ines was always good at slipping away from him in one way or another.

 

No matter how many times he had confirmed she was dead, he shouldn’t have let his guard down.

 

It was a mistake to put her coffin in the chapel instead of his bedroom.

 

Even if the whole continent called him a madman who slept beside a corpse, he should have kept her right by his side!

 

Ines’s unrotting body. That was the one thing Rayan needed to endure the 15 years he had left.

 

He couldn’t live without her.

 

Panic gripped his mind and made his whole body tremble.

 

His palm, disfigured and scarred from burns, clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his raw red skin.

 

Blood and pus oozed from the wound, but he felt nothing.

 

Rayan thought desperately.

 

Ines. Who took you away?

 

Or did you leave that glass coffin on your own?

 

It didn’t matter which.

 

If someone had taken her, they would be torn limb from limb and fed to the crows. But if it was the latter…

 

If it was the latter—his head spun.

 

He had believed her to be just a corpse that didn’t rot. But what if she was truly alive?

 

Dozens of emotions flashed across Rayan’s face at once.

 

Green madness glinted between the strands of silver hair dampened by the early morning mist.

 

“…Find her. No matter if it takes months or years.”

 

The knights of Eleanor held their breath at their lord’s low, chilling voice.

 

Rayan’s green eyes had lost far more sanity than a month ago.

 

If it was the latter… what did he want to do if he caught the woman who had fled from him in hatred?

 

Would he kneel at her feet and beg for forgiveness that she would never accept?

 

Ah, if that were even possible—it would be a miracle, a blessing.

 

“Ha, aha, haha.”

 

Rayan let out a mad laugh and pressed his leaking, wounded palm to his forehead.

 

Think. Think, Rayan Eleanor.

 

There were two possibilities. If someone had stolen Ines, he could search the entire continent to find her.

 

But if it was the latter, he might never see her again. Rayan didn’t know what kind of power Ines had.

 

His brain, which had barely functioned for months, began to turn slowly.

 

Something he would never have known in his lifetime…

 

Yes. He didn’t just need to find Ines. He needed to discover the “method.”

 

The power Ines had. And perhaps the power that had been passed on to Caesar.

 

Rayan finally remembered her origin. Ines was a royal of Jenaire.

 

She was born between a Jenaire princess and a wandering sorcerer.

 

“Jenaire…”

 

What was her nickname in that barbaric empire?

 

She was called the “Host of Misfortune” raised by the Jenaire royal family.

 

The Host of Misfortune—what exactly did that ambiguous title mean?

 

The clue was in Jenaire. The man who had found the answer narrowed his eyes.

 

He had always planned to crush that arrogant empire eventually.

 

Maybe she’d be happy to see the severed heads of the Jenaire royals who treated her like filth displayed before her coffin.

 

And once the annoying empire was reduced to ruins, Caesar wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore either.

 

If that had been his reason before, now he had a far more absolute reason to bring Jenaire to its knees.

 

“…Apael, Krine, Yuelm.”

 

He spoke the names of the nations that had remained neutral during the seven-year war.

 

He had already reached out to them last month, and Apael and Krine had shown interest in an alliance.

 

And then there were the barbarians…

 

Rayan’s lips slowly curled upward.

 

As soon as he realized there was a good chance of victory, joy lit up in his green eyes.

 

Maybe I can see her again. His heart throbbed painfully.

 

Maybe she’s still alive. That raw, unconscious thought burst out.

 

“I want to see you.”

 

He wanted to see her alive, moving.

 

She could curse him or trample him—he didn’t care. He just desperately wanted to see her, full of life.

 

“I want to see you, Ines…”

 

Blood and pus from his palm stained his silver hair and dry cheeks.

 

Hot tears spilled uncontrollably and fell from his chin.

 

He tilted his head back and looked up at the pale morning sky.

 

The fading moon, the cross at the top of the chapel spire, the dawn light—

 

None of it registered in his vision.

 

Morning was coming, but his world was still night.

 

From within the pitch-black despair, the man filled with regret cried out.

 

Ah. My beloved.

 

If I could just see you again, I’d be willing to sell my soul to the devil.