Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 125
Unforeseen eruption
He never intended to tell the duchess any of this personally.
But her husband was infuriating him so much.
Albireo spoke impulsively.
“I wouldn’t care about the origins of a divorced woman. Being an obligation-free second son has its advantages in such matters.”
“You must have lost your mind.”
Izar continued to sneer.
“My household could endure such disgrace because of its status.”
“…”
“If it were your family, and with your position, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Yes, I understand that possibility well.”
But Albireo replied, knowing it all.
To have everything shallowly or to have just one thing completely.
He was ready to kick away all the sweet and trivial things for the latter. If only given the chance.
“And then I’d beg, even clinging to His Highness the Imperial Prince’s cloak, to support the Madam properly.”
“Marquis and Marchioness Deneb have raised their second son quite naively.”
Izar turned toward the carriage without hesitation.
Talking to this reality-deficient fool made him feel stupid as well.
From Riegel’s advice to Albireo Deneb’s shameless words, his temples throbbed with irritation.
<The temple pushes to ostracize illegitimate children only because they want to control noble marriages>
< I wouldn’t care about the origins of a divorced woman.>
They tell him to accept the shackles he can’t bear, saying it doesn’t matter.
“Ha.”
They haven’t been in his shoes. Let them see how well they handle it themselves.
But what irked him the most was what Riegel had said.
<You seem to cherish your wife very much despite the forced marriage.>
It’s not that damnable feeling at all. He simply found the idea of keeping Freesia as a mistress repulsive.
‘Yet I also don’t want to see her become another man’s wife.’
The thought of losing the woman who declared her love for him made him feel filthy.
But then, the woman sitting quietly opposite him in the carriage spoke.
“Duke.”
“What?”
Izar’s heart pounded dully. But even though it was just the two of them, Freesia didn’t remove her veil.
The small hands in her lap fidgeted several times.
“…I have something to tell you later. Is that alright?”
And with those words, she intertwined her fingers tightly as if she had made a resolution.
* * *
Driving sheep inevitably meant facing death several times.
Even a pretty lamb that followed her well was just livestock. When the duke’s castle demanded, she had to take it to the butcher.
Quickly slashing open the lamb’s chest, she would cut the heart’s blood vessels and drain the blood. The lamb that had been alive just moments ago would die.
<Damn, it’s just a quick slash with the knife, so why are you trembling like that? Even a madwoman’s daughter is such a coward, huh?>
The butcher had bluntly said to Freesia when she first trembled at the sight.
For a skilled butcher, the lamb’s suffering would not have been prolonged. But hearing it didn’t make it any easier to accept initially.
Freesia had to learn it the hard way.
But eventually, she learned it, and on the day she had 224 days left to live, she decided to act as she had learned.
This time, the target wasn’t a lamb but her own heart.
‘All this time, I thought my primary goal was to make Izar grieve over my death.’
At least until she saw him with Atria, she thought so.
But when she recalled Viela Alpheratz enthusiastically discussing her research or the atmosphere of the academy, a peculiar sense of deprivation tingled through her fingers.
‘Maybe I should have broadened my horizons during this remaining time?’
If regret kept creeping in, she needed to make a decision. So, on the way back from the academy, she made a request, feeling as if her throat were tearing from the inside.
<I know you said I mustn’t bother you, but could we take some time to discuss the future?>
She couldn’t bear to bring it up in the carriage because she couldn’t handle the dreadfully awkward atmosphere that would follow when they disembarked.
Izar had stared at her for a long time then.
<…Alright.>
But after a long silence, that was all he said.
Freesia looked up at Izar’s office door with a distant feeling. The outside was so bright, yet her heart felt so desolate.
“Come in.”
Perhaps he heard her presence, as his voice, thick and subdued, came from inside.
But as she stepped into the room, Freesia flinched unconsciously.
‘Oh, did he just finish training with the knights?’
Had he just washed up? His raven-wing-like hair tips were damp, with droplets tracing his jawline before drying up.
Some droplets followed the path down his neck, disappearing under the loosely buttoned shirt collar.
As always, he didn’t care in the slightest that Freesia, a woman, had come to his room.
It was always only her who felt self-conscious and blushed with embarrassment.
Izar looked down at Freesia with a cold, scrutinizing gaze.
“You said you had something to tell me.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Since returning from the academy, she had spent an entire day agonizing over how to say it.
Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She just placed her hands neatly on her lap and kept her head bowed.
“It’s known in Antares now that we haven’t consummated our marriage.”
“So.”
“So, whenever you wish, you could send me back to Antares.”
“…”
“I know you don’t want me as your wife, and that I’m not enough to fill the role of the Duchess…”
Saying this wasn’t easy. It felt like being stabbed in the throat with a hot needle.
She heard a voice inside herself chiding.
‘Is this all your love amounts to? You barely made it back alive, couldn’t you endure more?’
But.
“…Please, even if it’s for the last time, allow me to attend the hunting festival with you.”
Freesia whispered, forcing the words out.
She had loved Izar since she was fifteen. Despite the countless cold and resentful moments, she, foolishly, couldn’t forget him.
So saving Riegel for Izar’s sake would be her final act of love.
