Please Kill Me - Chapter 185

The world before Yekaterina was no different from the one she had seen as a young girl when she lost her entire family and headed toward Offenbach.

Perhaps if she said this, Leonid might deny it. While most might agree, there would surely be some who would argue that the world isn’t that callous after all.

‘But that’s your world.’

Yekaterina’s world was not like that.

So, in this unforgiving world, it was not he who deserved to die.

She pulled her robe tightly around her and turned to leave.

If she wanted to save Leonid, she needed to act quickly.

* * *

By the time Yekaterina and Olga hurried back to the mansion, the news of the Emperor’s decree had already spread throughout.

From the bottom of the stairs where Yekaterina stood, the sounds of servants arguing drifted up the steps.

“This is outrageous!”

“What is Prince Yuri doing?”

“The Prince is doing everything he can to save the Duke. Didn’t you receive the letter?”

“But in the end, the decree has been given! A death sentence!”

Just as someone began to sob, Yekaterina turned her gaze from the staircase to the person standing before her.

“…Sir Vasily Arkady.”

The knight whose name was called stiffened his face. Yekaterina raised an eyebrow at his stubborn demeanor.

Yet Vasily remained firm.

“I don’t know what you plan to do, Miss but it’s not possible.”

“Are you really going to leave Leonid to die like this?”

Vasily’s eyebrows twitched at Yekaterina’s question.

He was clearly conflicted in this situation.

Should he follow Leonid’s orders or save him? What was the right thing to do?

‘You said it would be okay, Duke…’

Vasily believed in Leonid. Or rather, he wanted to believe it so badly. Just as Leonid said, it would be fine.

But the situation had deteriorated to its worst. Vasily had thought of Yekaterina the moment he heard the news of the Emperor’s decree.

He wondered how she would react upon hearing it.

Sure enough, Yekaterina returned from her outing with a deathly expression and silently ascended the stairs. Her steps seemed cold and heavy, and it was not just a matter of mood.

Vasily squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Now was not the time to be lost in thought.

“…If you take action, things could escalate.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“Has anything you’ve done up until now been anything but extreme?”

The question struck a chord, and Yekaterina was momentarily speechless.

Vasily seized the opportunity and continued.

“I will try to meet Prince Yuri as soon as possible. If I bribe the guards, I should be able to make contact with him. I will definitely find a way to save the Duke, so please stay put.”

“You make it sound like I’m about to throw a bomb at the palace. I’ve been waiting for quite a while.”

However, the response was icy. Cold enough to be sharp.

At that moment, Vasily wondered if the person standing before him was really the Yekaterina he had come to know.

The Yekaterina he knew might be indifferent, but she was never sharp. Her detached demeanor and her characteristic bluntness might have led to that misunderstanding.

But anyone who had spent any time with her would hardly describe her as sharp, because Yekaterina was indifferent yet profoundly soft-hearted.

Now, however, the person standing in front of Vasily reminded him of a cold blade or the fierce north wind striking down on the contaminated forest.

“You might think my actions are chaotic, but I have my own set of rules.”

And according to those rules, Yekaterina had waited a very long time.

“Leonid told me he would be okay. So I waited. But Leonid’s words turned out to be wrong. If that’s the case, I no longer have a reason to heed him. Now I will do things my way.”

“But—”

“Sir Vasily.”

Vasily tried to offer a counterpoint, but Yekaterina’s sharp voice cut him off. She genuinely looked puzzled.

“I thought you would understand me. You don’t want to see Leonid die any more than I do.”

“…That’s true. But you don’t know what consequences your actions might have.”

“At least there’s one thing I know for sure: Leonid will live.”

And for Yekaterina, that was enough.

“What about you?”

“…”

Vasily fell into a long silence.

In fact, there was something he had been questioning all along. Each day Leonid remained imprisoned, and with the reality of his death becoming more apparent.

‘Am I still supposed to follow the Duke’s orders?’

He had always been someone who adhered to order. Other knights would likely say the same: to follow the order even if it meant facing death. That was the code they had learned.

So if it had been in the past, Vasily might not have harbored such doubts.

If someone hadn’t come along to shatter the framework of order he had learned throughout his life.

‘Following the order is important.’

But in this situation, should he still adhere to the order? Even if the end result was Leonid’s death?