I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 60

#404

A warm breeze drifted by—it felt like spring had arrived.

*“Everyone welcomed me back from my travels with open arms.
When Kayeina brought me a letter from the royal family, I became certain, she had betrayed me.

I stirred the child with a suggestion: that I wanted to carry a man’s child. Her vacant eyes, like those of a dead fish, flickered with sudden color. Eventually, her gaze turned vibrant, like fresh wild herbs. It was a clear shift—something had changed from the very beginning of the plan.”*

#434

The Day We Greeted the Lush Season

*“Miss Charlotte brought back information on Kayeina through the underworld. Perhaps they thought no one would suspect them—their security was surprisingly loose.

There were several sightings of Kayeina attempting to purchase a mysterious drug in the back alleys. The substance she wanted was Abraxas—a well-known aphrodisiac.

She also requested the fresh corpse of a wild animal. One whose blood closely resembled human blood, but whose smell wasn’t too foul. She hoped to receive it in about a month.

An aphrodisiac… and a dead animal…

Why does this all feel so familiar? Like I already know what she’s planning. And that thought terrifies me.”*

#469

The Day the Winds Raged

*“A sudden storm struck the Duchy of Aschart.
Though summer was near, the storm caught us off guard. Because of it, the knights of Aschart had to delay their expedition. The storm didn’t last long, but the following monsoon made travel impossible.

It felt like a warning—of what would happen tomorrow. I hoped for tomorrow to come. Yet at the same time… I prayed it wouldn’t.”*

#470

The Rain Falls Gently

*“It had been drizzling since morning. I sent a message to Lady Dorothea Park early, letting her know we’d have to cancel our tea time because of the weather.

Today is the day.
The day of reckoning.
I find myself wishing—praying—that tomorrow, I’ll be able to finish this journal with a smile.
May the gods watch over Charlier.
May love remain in the memories I carry…” *

It was around the 470th day since Natasha and Sieghart had been married.

Heavy rain poured down from early morning, soaking the Duchy of Aschart.

The view beyond the window was unusually still. Perhaps it was because the gardener, who usually tended the grounds every morning—had called in absent. Even the knights, who had been tirelessly training outdoors just days ago, had declared a day of rest.

As Natasha strolled down the corridor, she stopped by the window, unmoving.
Meliana and Vanessa, who had been following behind her, approached and spoke to her warmly.

“Come to think of it, this must be your first time experiencing the monsoon in the Duchy, milady. Last year, we barely had any rain—even in summer.”

“It’s a first for us, too. Doesn’t the rain here feel heavier than in other places? Still, they say this year’s monsoon won’t last long. It should clear up soon.”

They then suggested serving something fun and flavorful for dinner—to brighten the mood.

But Natasha’s gloom wasn’t because of the rain. She found it endearing that they tried to blame the weather for her low spirits.

Not wanting to seem cold, she forced a smile and replied,

“Yes. And don’t forget the drinks.”

“Drinks, milady?”

“Isn’t alcohol the perfect companion to bold flavors?”

“Of course! We’ll let the kitchen know right away.”

“Make sure it’s strong. I think I’ll need a bit of courage tonight.”

“Strong and tasty? That’s my specialty.”

Thinking the Duchess was in better spirits, the two brightened and cheerfully hurried off.
As they debated what kind of liquor would be best, they disappeared like a dream while Natasha blinked.

“Please, I’m counting on you. I really need the strength that alcohol gives me today.”

She needed a stimulant—something to stir Sieghart’s passion.
Given the situation, she had no choice but to rely on a tool this time.

The dinner was a success. Whether it was thanks to Meliana and Vanessa’s efforts or not, the food was bolder than usual.

Natasha stared intently at the wine glass handed to her by Kayeina.

“That burnt smell… It’s the sign of Abraxas.”

She had heard that when mixed with liquid, the aphrodisiac Abraxas gave off a faint scent of burning.
A musty odor entered her nose—definitely not something a wine should carry.

While Kayeina stepped away briefly, Natasha instructed a maid to swap her glass.
The next wine had the rich, bittersweet scent of aged grapes.

Sieghart didn’t question her odd behavior.
All he asked was, “Since when do you drink?”

Natasha gave a vague answer—just trying to lift her mood, she said.

Having finished his duties for the day, Sieghart joined her in drinking, glass after glass.
Though he could usually handle alcohol well, even he wasn’t immune to liquor this strong.
As time passed, subtle cracks appeared in his refined composure.

He stood up, saying he needed some air, but stumbled a little.
He quickly straightened himself, trying not to show it—but Natasha could tell.
His steps weren’t steady anymore.

“Haha, it’s been ages since I saw His Grace drunk like this!”

Jenkins burst into laughter at the rare sight of the Duke letting loose. For once, he looked like an ordinary man. There was a sense of pride in Jenkins’s eyes as he watched from behind.

“Well, if there’s nothing else scheduled, we should get him back to his room.”

“It must be hard on you. Please, let me escort him instead.”

“No need. I was planning to walk him back myself. I thought it might be a good time for an honest talk between husband and wife.”

“Ah, how thoughtless of me to get in the way. I hope you both enjoy your time together.”

Wrapped in a simple shawl, Natasha followed Sieghart’s steps.

She found him not far from the dining hall, standing on a terrace, leaning against the railing as the wind and rain whipped around him. The sight was almost silly.

“Sieghart.”

She made sure to let her footsteps be heard. Just in case the rain had drowned her out, she raised her voice and called his name. As she came closer, she asked,

“Shall we go back?”

He tilted his head slightly. His silver hair hovered just above his shoulder.

Where to?
His closed lips seemed to silently ask the question.

“Where else? To our bedroom.”

“Are you saying yes tonight?”

“You make it sound like I usually say no. And even when I do, haven’t you always come and gone as you pleased, ignoring my opinion?”

His lips closed again. He had no excuse.

She gave a small chuckle and stepped beside him. As she leaned back to rest against the railing, something hard pressed against her back. It wasn’t the railing. It was the back of Sieghart’s hand.

“It’s still cold. You shouldn’t get wet like this.”

Only then did she notice the railing was damp. She straightened up quickly.

His hand, which had supported her, was soaked. He casually shook the water off, then wiped the rest on his shirt collar. He, who always treated her dresses like treasure, handled his own clothes like rags.

“If you were worried about the rain, why did you come out here?”

“You got the subject wrong. I wasn’t worried about getting myself wet. I was worried about you.”

“Then why worry about me getting wet?”

“I was afraid you might get sick.”

What nonsense.

She was about to argue that a little rain wouldn’t hurt, but then remembered something. She once caught a cold after playing in the snow. A childish accident, from the time she built a snowman with joy.

And it hadn’t even been a snowstorm that day. Just like today wasn’t a downpour.

“Then let’s go back now.”

Admitting defeat was the last thing she wanted. So she changed the topic.

“You go ahead. I want to stay a little longer.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to go together? I came all the way out here just to bring you back.”

She gently tugged at the dry edge of his collar. His red eyes dropped to meet hers.

His gaze, darker than her own and filled with something quiet and heavy, focused completely on her.

On Natasha Aschart.

“What’s the occasion? My wife usually doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

“…”

“Normally, you’d run away just to avoid being near me.”

He noticed things far too easily. If only he would go along without arguing.

“That’s true. But tonight, I’m asking you to come with me because I want to.”

If Sieghart didn’t return to the bedroom tonight, everything could fall apart. If he sobered up, if anything slipped, it would all be ruined.

“Really?”

“…”

“We’re both drunk right now.”

“That’s what I was hoping for…!”

She was about to say it out loud, but her voice trailed off. In an instant, Sieghart stepped in front of her. He lowered himself slightly, meeting her eyes with a soft smile, as if this moment was some kind of gift.

It seemed Natasha had leaned against the railing again. He gently placed his hand on her waist and pulled her closer.

“So it’s really fine to go to the bedroom together while we’re still drunk?”

Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted.

But nodding felt too obvious. If she agreed, her intentions would be too clear.

Still, by staying silent, she had already given her answer. Sieghart accepted it, then released her waist. He pulled the shawl around her shoulders more tightly and took her hand as they walked down the corridor together.

“W-Wait, please slow down a little…”

He always matched his pace to hers. But tonight, he walked quickly. His grip on her wrist was firmer than usual. It felt like the alcohol had stripped him of his usual restraint.

But then her soft voice held him back. He paused. Natasha used the moment to glance around.

She was coming.

Before leaving the dining room, Natasha had told Jenkins to give her fan to Kayeina and suggest that she bring it to her personally. And now, it looked like she had taken the hint.

Kayeina spotted the Duchess and began walking faster. As her figure approached, Natasha urgently poked Sieghart in the side.

“When Kayeina gets here, act like you’re affectionate with me.”

“Act affectionate?”

“Yes. That thing you always do so well. But tonight, do it even more. Don’t ask why.”

“…”

“Tonight, we have to look like the most loving couple in the world. At least to her.”

Because only then would the one who secretly hoped for her misery be forced to make a move.

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