Please Kill Me - Chapter 159
Yekaterina remained silent, gazing at her step brother.
It was as if trying to discern the truth in Dmitry’s words, or perhaps wishing to hear more of what he had to say. She might have even looked a little sad.
The only certain thing was that she did not speak again.
Turning away, she left the room. Watching her retreating figure, Dmitry felt that something was amiss. He had thought that once Yekaterina returned, he wouldn’t have to be alone here anymore, but it seemed nothing had really changed.
‘No, it is different.’
Dmitry quickly shook his head.
With time, Yekaterina would surely realize that she and Dmitry were essentially of the same nature. So if Yekaterina kept her promise to him, if she did not leave Offenbach or his side, everything would be alright.
There was no need to rush. Yekaterina could no longer return to Leonid Rostislav, after all.
So everything would be fine. It had to be fine.
* * *
As time passed and the season of Vesna, where everyone wore masks, quickly faded like snowflakes, spring was coming to an end.
‘In the end, I haven’t spoken to Dmitry since that day.’
Was it meaningless to have brought up the topic? Yekaterina recalled Dmitry’s reaction when she mentioned the protective magic, and his brows furrowed slightly, if only for a moment.
When had her actions ever held meaning to her?
Vaguely thinking this, she stamped the heel of her shoe against the ground. By the time the snow, which had piled up to her waist, began to melt and reveal the earth, Yekaterina found herself once again standing in the imperial banquet hall.
Thanks to Dmitry’s brief absence to speak with a guest, she found herself alone again.
‘After this banquet, I will probably return to Offenbach for good.’
Not long ago, the Emperor’s miraculous recovery from a life-threatening condition had allowed him to leave his sickbed. Once he had done so, Emperor Yevgeny IV declared that he would soon choose an heir to inherit Arlan’s name and ring after his impending death.
After narrowly escaping death, it seemed he had developed a fear of what would come after.
However, without needing to hear it from Yevgeny IV, everyone was already speculating about who the next Arlan would be. The support for Ruslan Pavel, the Emperor’s son, was nowhere near comparable to that of Yuri Oleg.
At least the backing of the Empress and the prominence of the Pavel family among the high-ranking noble houses allowed them to maintain their position, waiting for a chance to turn the tide.
From the moment Offenbach distanced itself from the Empress, it was already certain that Yuri would be nominated.
All that remained was the announcement from Yevgeny IV.
Thus, the Emperor opened the banquet hall to summon the nobles, and Yekaterina, as the mistress of Offenbach, was also required to attend.
‘And once this announcement is made, the Arlan War will likely come to an end.’
Unless someone who was not nominated as the next Arlan declared a rebellion following Yevgeny IV’s death, that was how it would be.
So now, the nobles who had been residing in the capital would also find time to inspect their own territories.
‘Rostislav and Offenbach will return to their respective estates.’
It meant she would no longer encounter Leonid, even by chance.
The way to resolve the misunderstandings she had created was becoming increasingly distant, and Leonid would surely remember his time with Yekaterina as the worst experience of his life.
‘Or he might forget.”’
That option wouldn’t pose any danger to Leonid.
It was undoubtedly a situation she had created, so why did it leave her feeling so empty?
It felt like she had lost something important without even realizing it. In truth, she had never possessed anything of significance.
It was truly a strange thing.
Having nothing and never cherishing anything, why did her heart ache with longing whenever sunlight glinted off her spear?
Sometimes, the thought of wanting to see Leonid again struck her like madness.
Even if he hurled insults at her and looked at her with disdain, she just wanted to catch a glimpse of that face that had once kissed hers. The hands that had embraced her, and that voice that, despite its irritation, held a certain kindness. The gaze they shared every time she turned her head.
It seemed that only with those things would this emptiness dissipate.
Now, it felt increasingly unreal, the events she had shared with Leonid.
It felt like a dream, walking out of the forest holding Leonid’s hand.
The nights they spent together, the words he had shared with her, and the countless calls of her name—all of it lingered in her mind.
How could such memories not fade away?
Yekaterina felt she could understand the fate of the unfortunate Queen, who had gone mad, trapped in the same time.
‘I guess I’m starting to lose my mind too.’
She had promised to disappear from Leonid’s life, yet here she was, unable to shake off these feelings.
This was madness like no other.
Shaking her head inside, Yekaterina turned her steps away.
With no mask to conceal her face, she needed to stay out of sight as much as possible.
She couldn’t afford to run into Leonid again.
Just as Yekaterina was about to stretch her legs further, a voice called out from behind her.
“Yekaterina.”
Turning her head, she saw a familiar face.
The one she always encountered in matters related to Leonid.
“Your Highness?”
It was Yuri Oleg.
