I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 37

No… What am I even thinking is…

Natasha caught herself sinking into pointless thoughts. Shaking her head, she tried to think clearly again.

Maybe the Sieghart of this life was different. But the man from her previous life? He would never have tried to save her. That Sieghart had already gained everything he wanted from their marriage. He probably felt relieved when she died. The troublesome woman conveniently disappeared on her own.

It must have been something else.

Just thinking about the man from her past life made her feel sick. Right now, logic and emotions were useless—her mind was too stirred up to think straight. So she let it go and focused only on the article in front of her.

The article said that this Sieghart used the Sacred Sword to save her life.

As someone who lived in this world, Natasha knew very well the value and power of the Sacred Sword granted to a knight of honor.

There was no need to explain how rare and incredible it was. Only a legendary knight could receive such a blessing. The sword’s abilities were just as extraordinary and unmatched.

The power of the Sacred Sword represented a nation’s strength. It was a force that guaranteed victory in war. Any country that possessed it would naturally rise as a world leader.

And now, such a weapon was not in the hands of royalty, but privately owned. That alone was remarkable. For a duke planning to separate from the Empire, it was the best advantage he could possibly have.

Actually, there would be no need to break away at all. The royal family would be the ones crawling to him now. Their positions had likely reversed. They were probably groveling before House Aschart.

And that wasn’t even the full picture. Just the fact that it could save a life made the sword incredibly valuable. People would have lined up to pay fortunes for a chance to use it.

Even more so, because its power could be used on oneself. It was a gift, but also a deeply tempting power.

Why?

Why would he use such a powerful thing just to save her?

And not later, but the moment he received it.

Why, really?

Sieghart Aschart was known as the most rational man in the Empire. He never acted emotionally. Everything he did was calculated—always in pursuit of his goals, and always for the benefit of House Aschart.

So what could he possibly gain by saving her?

Was it… to avoid divorce?

That seemed like the only possible answer.

Just like in her last life, where he pretended to love her, maybe this time too, he was simply wearing a mask. Acting the same role.

Keeping her by his side.

But even then, no matter how great the benefit of staying married to her might be, would it really be more valuable than the power he had just used?

No. Absolutely not.

Even someone like Natasha, who didn’t understand Sieghart fully, could say that for certain.

What is it you want from me, Sieghart? What could you possibly gain from this marriage that’s worth more than all of that…

At this point, she was truly curious. What could he possibly want so badly from staying married to her?

Night came, but the question still had no answer.

Even when the sky turned completely black, Natasha couldn’t fall asleep.

Her head was packed with thoughts that refused to go away. The unanswered questions settled deep in her chest like a knot.

So much for getting through the night in peace.

She looked over at Kayeina, who had fallen asleep while watching over her. Gently, she pulled a blanket over the girl and quietly stepped out of the room.

She went down to the terrace on the first floor and opened a window. Maybe the cold air would help clear her mind.

A chill breeze blew in the moment the window opened. If any of her attendants had seen her, they would’ve panicked and scolded her for risking her health.

Still, the cold air helped. Her head felt a little lighter.

It didn’t solve anything, but at least she could think.

Sieghart…

His name escaped her lips in a quiet breath. She had thought about him nonstop all day. More than ever before.

Maybe that was why.

“…Sieghart?”

Her mind must have created an illusion. It was as if she saw Sieghart Aschart standing right in front of her.

It had to be a trick of the mind. He was supposed to be at the temple. Even if he had left the moment she woke, it would still take at least two full days to return.

And yet—

“Tisha.”

Since when could a hallucination pull someone’s arm?
That alone proved this wasn’t a mere illusion. Natasha’s body, without resistance, was already being drawn toward the man.

Her abdomen lightly bumped against the window frame. Her head slowly came to rest on his broad shoulder. A gentle hand stroked her hair, as if afraid she might pull away, holding the back of her head tenderly.

He had come in such a rush that his breathing was uneven and heavy. His chest trembled in sync with his pounding heart.

“…Tisha.”

His voice shook as much as his trembling lips. The hand on her head was slightly trembling too.

Natasha didn’t respond. The way he called her name felt unfamiliar. So did the way his arms held her, as if protecting something precious.

Thank goodness.

Aside from calling her name, Sieghart hadn’t said anything. But in that silence, she could almost hear the truth beneath his breath.

“…I thought you were still at the temple, busy handling official matters.”

Natasha was the first to speak. She gently lifted her head off his shoulder as she did.

The intense urgency in his crimson eyes slowly faded. Only after seeing that she was truly safe did he seem to breathe again.

“I asked His Holiness for permission the moment I heard you woke up. What reason would I have to stay behind like a fool once I knew?”

“…So you wasted the power of the Sacred Sword… and left your duties behind without finishing them. I imagine the Holy Father wasn’t pleased.”

Now that she knew the truth, Natasha understood the duties Sieghart had left unfinished at the temple.

To lose the Sacred Sword’s power after a single day—it must have felt like a devastating loss. Blaming House Aschart would not have been unreasonable.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Sieghart’s voice cut the conversation short. His tone was stern, as though he were scolding her.

He didn’t offer any explanation to clear the air. The words she’d said to break the awkwardness had only made things worse. Feeling defiant now, Natasha decided to push back.

“No. That sword wasn’t meant for me. And I doubt it was ever intended to be used on my life.”

“Even if the blessing is gone, the legacy of House Aschart remains. I don’t see the problem.”

“Because saving me will damage that legacy. So why did you make that choice, Your Grace?”

For a brief moment, his brows pulled tightly together.

“My wife, who stood by my side at the coronation, collapsed after drinking poison. I saved her.”

“…”

“I did what a husband is supposed to do. Was I wrong?”

His voice was calm but firm. It wasn’t just an explanation—it was a challenge. As if asking, If that was wrong, then say it.

“…So, you’re saying you only did what had to be done because it was your responsibility.”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“But the public doesn’t see it that way. Have you not read the papers while you were at the temple? If you knew what they were saying…”

“I don’t care about the noise from fools who only chase power and wealth.”

He spoke so naturally, as if forgetting that he had once been counted among those very same fools.

“And yet those fools were the ones who admired the legacy of House Aschart. You used to take pride in that legacy. And then, just like that, you threw it away—for my life.”

“I honestly don’t know what you want from me. Are you saying I shouldn’t have saved you? Do you want me to admit that I regret my choice?”

As Natasha clung to his words, Sieghart finally pushed back. Maybe it was her repeated talk of death that had started to wear on him.

“I’m sorry, Tisha. But unfortunately for you, I can’t say what you want to hear. I’m just grateful—no, honored—that my wife is awake and angry with me again.”

He reached out, wrapping his arm around her waist and gently pulling her toward him. This time, he stopped her just before she could bump into the window frame again, clearly remembering the earlier moment.

“You want happiness. That’s what this arrangement was for, wasn’t it? For the sake of future happiness.”

“…”

“Then live. Natasha Aschart.”

He spoke with steady emphasis, each word sharp and deliberate. But to Natasha, the whole thing felt like a joke.

“Don’t… don’t say it like it’s that simple.”

Live.

The man who had once silently stood by while she died, now telling her to live with that same face and voice—it was laughable.

That strange surge of emotion she had felt when she first learned he had used the Sacred Sword to save her, it boiled over now. All the unstable, confused feelings exploded inside her.

And at last, she let out what had been buried in her heart.

“Who do you think made my life so miserable, so hopeless, so unbearable?”

“…”

“Who dragged me into hell, into ruin, into a frozen wasteland?”

She hated the look on his face—so calm, so understanding.

She didn’t trust it for a second. It was another trick. He would comfort her now, let her open up, only to cast her back into misery when it suited him.

That was why Natasha lashed out.

With the same expression, pretending she understood him completely.

“It was you, Sieghart. You’re the one who made me like this…”

In truth, she still couldn’t fully accept it. The very man who had let her die in the past, now claiming to have saved her—it was too hard to believe.

And that made her suspicious. What was his real reason?

The wedding kiss, the consummation of their marriage, his speech at the coronation, the sudden use of the Sacred Sword—none of that had ever happened in her past life.

He was acting beyond what was written in their marriage contract, doing things on his own.

It was painful to see him pretend to love her. This man who once ruled the world with arrogance, now acting broken in front of her. It was infuriating.

Maybe it was because she kept seeing traces of the man from before.

Of course she couldn’t ignore the past.

That man—Sieghart Aschart, once whispered love to her, then discarded her like a burden the moment she had served her purpose.

No matter how much he claimed to have changed, his true nature wouldn’t have. The more cautious she became around him, the more calculating he would grow. She was sure of it.

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