I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 38

It would be the same this time too. Sieghart would try every method to win Natasha over, then treat her like a fool once her emotions got involved.

She looked forward with resolve, ready to face him head-on. What she saw first was an unfamiliar expression on his face.

“…Why do you look so shocked?”

She expected him to glare and demand an explanation, or show frustration, or at the very least wear the usual expression of indifference that said he was tired of her emotions.

But it wasn’t any of that. Strangely, Sieghart looked genuinely shaken.

Only then did Natasha realize the weight of what she had said. Of course he was shocked—he had every reason to be. The truth that Sieghart had helped bring down the royal family of Charlier was a state secret, known only to the emperor and himself.

And now she had let it slip without meaning to.

Sieghart had two sins in her life. First, he willingly played a role in destroying the Charlier royal family. Second, he had tricked her, an innocent woman, into marrying him only to leave her discarded like an old burden.

The first sin was known only to Sieghart and the emperor. The second was something only Natasha knew, thanks to the memories of her past life.

Not knowing she had come back from the dead, Sieghart would naturally think she was referring to the first. And now that she had said it aloud, he would start to wonder how she knew.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He stood still, looking like he was turning her words over in his mind. Of course, he wasn’t an idiot. There was no taking it back now.

So Natasha decided to throw everything out at once.

If she was going to expose something, she would make sure it was a blow so big he couldn’t even think straight.

“I wouldn’t not know, Sieghart.”

“…”

“Every night, my family’s voices haunt me, calling you my enemy. How could I grow up, carrying all their hatred, and not know?”

She poured out everything she had kept inside.

Now she figured he would finally change. Now that she had revealed the reason she couldn’t love him, he would surely realize all his efforts had been in vain.

She lifted her head to see his raw reaction.

But Sieghart only looked at her for a long moment… then gave a faint, almost defeated smile. There was no sarcasm in it.

Why that expression?

Once again, Natasha had guessed wrong.

The strong stone wall of a man was crumbling. His composed face, usually defined by sharp lines and control, now looked uneven and conflicted. His eyes, red as rubies, seemed softer than ever—vulnerable.

He stayed quiet for a while, clearly weighing the impact of whatever he was about to say. He opened his mouth a few times, only to close it again.

At last, the silence broke.

“You’re right. Of course you would know.”

A long pause followed, then finally:

“So keep living. Until you take back every piece of happiness I stole from you. Live until you reclaim everything you lost. Keep living… while listening to my eternal repentance.”

“…You selfish man.”

“I’ve always been that way. You know that better than anyone.”

He added those words with a dry voice, then slowly released the arm he had wrapped around her. As if the conversation was over, he stepped back from the window.

Then, he turned and left.

It was as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. His cloak flapped wildly in the wind as he disappeared into the dark, his figure quickly becoming a distant point. And then, he was gone.

Natasha drew in a long, slow breath. And when her lungs ached, she slowly exhaled. The repetition of such a simple act gave her no comfort. Her mind kept dragging her back to scenes she didn’t want to relive.

The panic on Sieghart’s face when he first saw her awake. The way he rushed to her side without hesitation and embraced her without asking. That uncharacteristically fragile expression…

The image of him, looking like he was the one hurt, wouldn’t leave her mind.

It was all an act.

She shook her head, as if trying to erase the memory.

Yes. It had to be an act. Another manipulative trick, using pity as a weapon.

Sieghart didn’t show his face for a long time.

According to the staff, he had confined himself to his office due to a heavy workload. But Natasha knew that was just an excuse.

As husband and wife, they naturally became aware of each other’s schedules. His workload wasn’t light, but it certainly wasn’t so overwhelming that it would prevent him from living a normal life.

And more importantly, he was wasting time on things that required personal effort.

If he were really that busy, there’s no way he’d have time to come into her room every morning to leave a note by her bedside.

“…What is this…”

When Natasha returned to her room, she couldn’t hide her surprise.

The plain white hospital-like space was now overflowing with flowers. The sweet scent filled the air so thickly it had even drifted down the hallway, tickling her nose before she’d reached the door.

On the table, rows of herbal teas brewed from only the best medicinal ingredients were carefully arranged.

“Oh, Madam, you’re back.”

Meliana greeted Natasha warmly when she returned. She rolled the cart of food over and set it in front of the table. When she lifted the cloche, a warm wave of steam rose, revealing beautifully prepared dishes that looked just as appetizing as they smelled.

With pride, Meliana began explaining how many high-quality ingredients had gone into the meal, and how each dish had been carefully chosen to help the patient regain her strength.

“As you might guess, His Grace prepared everything himself!”

“I’m sure he did.”

What was the point of pretending he was busy when all of this clearly showed he had far too much time on his hands?

When Natasha took her first spoonful of porridge, it was filled with vibrant red crab meat. Meliana eagerly explained that it was the finest crab, caught during peak season from the cleanest waters.

Natasha stopped eating and looked around the room again. If Meliana was telling the truth, there wasn’t a single part of this space that hadn’t been touched by Sieghart.

“Meliana.”

“Yes, Madam?”

“Why do you think His Grace is treating me so kindly?”

“Well, because he’s your husband. He loves you.”

“Love?”

“Yes!”

Meliana answered with cheerful certainty.

She didn’t know the full story, but considering how quickly the two had gotten married and how little time they’d spent together, she could understand why Natasha seemed confused.

Trying to ease her lady’s doubts, Meliana began listing all the ways the Duke had shown his love and devotion. She spoke of how he had personally overseen the hiring of Natasha’s maids, how he still gathered the staff each week to make sure they were caring for her properly, and how involved he remained in every detail.

Vanessa was no different.

“His Grace adores you. You’re not doubting him, are you?”

She eagerly went on about how deeply in love and completely devoted Sieghart was to the Duchess.

He loves me.

It was strange, but everyone seemed to believe it. Everyone except Natasha.

That’s impossible.

Not once had she truly believed Sieghart’s actions were driven by genuine emotion.

Although… there were moments when she had doubted herself. Even when she told him she knew his true intentions, he never dropped the act.

Still, her conclusion never changed. He doesn’t love me. He was simply a better actor than most, but his heart hadn’t changed.

Sieghart Aschart was the same man who had pushed her to the brink in her past life.

He had ignored her desperate plea to be rescued from the Imperial family. He had dismissed her bloodline as inferior and put Kayeina in danger. He had turned his back on their child and let the child die.

That was the Sieghart from my past life.

She reminded herself again and again. A man like that couldn’t have changed at his core.

Even if he seems like a completely different person now.

But the reality of this life kept pushing into her thoughts, challenging everything she believed.

She knew the truth. The Sieghart in this life wasn’t the same. Their relationship hadn’t even started in the same way.

But that doesn’t matter. It can’t be allowed to matter.

That was why she hated it.

She didn’t need to understand why he was offering his heart. She didn’t want his feelings.

Because the one I hate is Sieghart Aschart himself.

And yet, for rejecting him, she felt like the one at fault. She was the only one who knew the truth of that day. So, she alone had to bear the weight of the sadness it brought.

“You need to rest. I’ve said it countless times already.”

The physician sighed in frustration as he looked at the Duchess of Aschart, now bedridden again.

And who could blame him? It was only a matter of time before the Duke summoned him to explain why her health had declined again. He could already imagine himself drenched in sweat, apologizing for hours.

Meliana and Vanessa, who were also getting a scolding, felt just as wronged.

Despite following the Duke’s orders and genuinely caring for the Duchess, they had done everything they could. She had started to get better. But now, she was worse than before.

After examining her, the doctor clicked his tongue in disapproval. Whether by sight or test, the results were the same. Her health had clearly deteriorated, worse than last time.

Silently wiping a tear from his eye, he finally prescribed medicine—something for her fever and pain.

“You must take care of her properly. Make sure she drinks water regularly and eats something. Don’t leave her to skip meals. And as I’ve said before, she needs rest. Plenty of it.”

His words carried the weight of a warning, and Meliana and Vanessa both nodded, tense and solemn. They had tried their best, but the sight of the weakened Duchess left them filled with guilt.

“I just want to be alone. Please let me rest. Please.”

But Natasha pushed them away, unaware of their genuine concern.

Her voice was faint and weak, but still they hesitated.

“You’re not well. We can’t just leave you like this.”

“I really just want to be alone. Right now, I need to rest.”

She was more forceful than they expected. In the end, they had no choice but to leave.

Left by herself, Natasha stared blankly at the ceiling.

The chandelier above her seemed to multiply and blur—sometimes two, sometimes three, then back to one again. Every time she blinked, the number changed. Now it was three again.

Her eyes shifted toward the calendar.

And in that moment, she understood why her condition had worsened so suddenly.

That day was almost here.

The day the Empire celebrated as a day of glory. The day the Duchy hailed as the birth of their nation. A day full of pride and achievement for everyone else.

But for Natasha, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

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