One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 117

A day had passed.
The words—“Just one day, and the pain will be gone” had proven to be a lie. Carlisle still hadn’t opened his eyes.

The physician who came to check on him explained that his condition remained unstable because of how much his body had weakened over time, especially after the recent injuries he sustained when the two of them were isolated.

When the diagnosis was over, Aileen’s heart had pounded with unbearable anxiety.

Carlisle had thrown himself in front of danger time and time again—for her.
He had taken the blows meant for her and fought endlessly through enemy lines with that injured body.

If only she had been more careful.
If only she had trained harder, paid more attention, done more—then none of this might have happened.
And in the end, Aileen could only blame herself.

“Aileen, you should eat something.”

It was Ashite. He was growing increasingly restless watching her skip meals, refusing to leave Carlisle’s side.

“How’s Siran?”

She didn’t answer his concern—only responded with another question.

Ashite looked quietly at her small, unmoving back and sighed. In the end, it always came down to him yielding.

“Still the same. He won’t say a single word.”

His voice, defeated and weary, sank low. Aileen fell into thought.

Why had Siran come after her?
What kind of grudge could he possibly have held?

But when he attacked, Siran hadn’t looked angry at all. He hadn’t shown hatred—or any emotion, really.
It was like he was simply doing what had to be done, like eating a meal—cold, impersonal.

And because she had faced him up close, Aileen could sense it clearly.

Her thoughts soon wandered further—past Siran and toward Marquess Hessiden… and Judith Hessiden.

Judith had liked Carlisle for years. She had always hated Aileen.
If Siran had been acting under someone’s orders, Judith might very well be involved.

Even during the banquet just before this, Judith had openly warned her to “watch out.”

“Do you think… maybe someone had leverage on Siran?”

“Hmm… not that I know of.”

Ashite scratched his head, clearly frustrated—then suddenly clapped his hands as something came to mind.

“Oh! Siran’s mother. I haven’t seen her in a while. Even when I visited their estate, it was nearly impossible to see her. And I know for a fact she was there.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“She used to always come out to greet me when I visited. We’d even have tea sometimes. But now? She just vanished.”

“What about the rest of his family?”

“Hmm. Now that you mention it… they’ve been out of sight too. His father’s down managing the territory, sure—but even his siblings, I’ve barely run into them lately.”

Ashite finally began to frown, sensing that something was off.

“No way. You don’t think…?”

“I’m going to head out. Let me know right away if Santinu contacts you.”

“…Alright.”

At Aileen’s calm but firm dismissal, Ashite quietly left the room.

Meanwhile, Santinu was interrogating Gibita personally.

“If you just tell me how to break the curse, I’ll make sure the entire Tanil tribe is spared.”

His words wore a light smile, but his eyes were icy cold.

“Your granddaughter’s among them, isn’t she? You haven’t forgotten that, have you? Don’t tell me you’d let your whole tribe die over an old grudge.”

“…”

“You’re a chieftain, and so am I. We both know the weight of that responsibility. Think it through.”

After a long silence, Gibita snapped back.

“…So this is what the great protector of his people does—collaborate with the enemy?”

“That’s harsh. Unlike some people, I’m not chasing after selfish gains, and I’m not about to throw away the lives of innocent tribesfolk for nothing. I just want to resolve this peacefully.”

“Peacefully? You call this peace?”

“If no one dies in war and no one starves, then yes—that’s peace. And if the Empire turns on us later, I’m not just going to sit back and take it.”

It was nonsense. Hypocrisy. Betrayal.

“You’re nothing but a traitor!” Gibita shouted, her voice echoing off the walls.

“Sure, sure. Call me whatever you want. Just hurry up and decide, will you? The longer you take, the worse things could get for our poor little hostages.”

Still smiling, Santinu kept pressing, digging into her nerves like a thorn.

Gibita was seething. Rage clawed at her insides, threatening to drive her mad. Never in her life had she imagined such a miserable, meaningless end.

She had spent years secretly amassing wealth through her alliance with the House of Hessiden. The Marquess’s ambition had far exceeded her expectations, and stirring him into starting a war had been laughably easy.

With the funds she funneled through Hessiden, she had solved the northern tribe’s most pressing issue—basic survival—in a land so harsh and barren.

Even if war broke out, the Tanil tribe rarely suffered losses. They remained in the rear, and the lost art of shamanism still kept them in a position of power over other northern tribes.

And yet, all the glory and wealth she had built… had come to this—crumbling into nothing.

Her bloodshot eyes burned into Santinu.

That young chief of the Nitu tribe… she had disliked him from the moment he was appointed leader of the allied forces. Arrogant, impulsive, and self-righteous. But because he was easy to manipulate, she had stayed quiet. That had been her mistake.

“Well? It’s time to decide.”

Gibita looked down at her hands—so shriveled now, like all the life had been sucked from them. During the final battle, she had pushed her magic far past its limits, summoning the spirits of the dead. In doing so, she had nearly burned through her life force.

“…You really promise to spare them?”

Her thoughts turned to her granddaughter—her last living kin, and the one with the greatest potential to succeed her as chieftain.

Gibita slowly opened her lips.

“These are all the documents.”

Edys accepted the thick stack of papers from Piel with a calm, unreadable expression.

“I’ve added everything related to the recent battle to what the captain had already reported. Sir Siran attempted to kill Lady Aileen. The attempt failed. He’s currently being held in the underground prison at Fort Renzi.”

Rustle, rustle.
Edys silently read through the report while Piel continued briefing him.

At the mention of Aileen’s brush with death, a grinding sound came from Duke Revart, who had been sitting quietly nearby. Piel heard it clearly—the grinding of teeth—but kept speaking through the chill of cold sweat forming on his back.

“Most of the surviving Tanil tribe members are being held at Renzi. Their leader, Gibita, was taken by Santinu. Her granddaughter—believed to be the next successor—is currently under our protection. Santinu has assured us he will use her as leverage to persuade Gibita.”

“To break the curse.”

“Yes. He said he would contact us as soon as he finds out how to lift it.”

Carlisle had been cursed again. His already shortened lifespan—less than a year—had now been cut in half.

And this time, it had happened in front of countless knights and soldiers. Witnesses saw him writhing in agony, unable to breathe from the pain.

“…Poor man.”

The quiet murmur from Edys made Piel flinch slightly.

“The moment Santinu lifts the curse from Carlisle, we’ll move against Hessiden and his faction. Prepare the evidence. Keep it ready to expose at any time. And make sure the city gates are tightly watched. They’re not getting out.”

Gulp.
A faint swallowing sound came from the side of the room. It was Jeron Diar, who had been silently listening. Edys cast him a brief glance, then continued speaking.

“Hessiden leaked information from the Treasury to his own circle. He did it so his private army wouldn’t be drafted for the war. In the end, more than half the men I personally designated never showed up. They traded the Empire’s safety for their own gain. There will be no mercy.”

Jeron felt a chill creep down his spine.

He remembered.

That day, when Judith had called him out—right after Aileen rejected him. That was where it all began.

—Sir Jeron Diar. I’m sorry you overheard. Lady Revart…

—It’s fine. Thank you for your concern.

—I’m not sure how to say this, but… I’ve been thinking about it, and I felt I should tell you. There are rumors spreading—people say Lady Aileen has been meeting with several men, weighing her options. Were you aware of that?

Jeron wasn’t naïve. The moment those words left Judith’s lips, he understood exactly why she had approached him.

Yes, he had longed to win Aileen’s heart. And yes, he had been rejected. But he never held it against her. He only blamed himself for not being enough.

But Judith Hessiden… he knew exactly how she felt about Aileen. And when she tried to use him—like some tool—it had honestly disgusted him.

So, Jeron made a decision.

He would use the situation to his advantage.

—Alright. I’ll think about it and let you know. It won’t be easy convincing my father, but I’ll try to help however I can.

That was how his secret alliance with Judith Hessiden began.
Of course, it was one-sided.

Jeron gave her just enough information to keep her satisfied—details that wouldn’t seriously harm Edys. Judith seemed suspicious, but never turned down his help.

She was desperate. Desperate to bring Aileen down.

And thanks to that, she made excellent use of the intel Jeron offered. Each time she reached out to him, he gathered more evidence—proof he knew would be useful later.

That moment… had now arrived.

“We’ll be launching a full-scale assault soon. Be ready.”

Edys’s cold voice cut through the silence like a blade.

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