We’re Married, After All - Chapter 82

It was inevitable.

Even if Laurea hadn’t attempted suicide, things would have ended this way. After losing Petios, there was no going back.

Still, Danel had wanted to die surrounded by memories of Laurea. That’s why he came here.

He was in an old annex on the Beloce estate. He had learned how to pass through the castle gates without confronting the guards when he was young, and he knew the way from watching over Laurea. It allowed him to slip inside unnoticed, even after drinking poison and collapsing.

The small annex, nestled at the end of a forest path, had been one of Laurea’s favorite places since childhood. It was here that Danel had stolen a kiss from her as she napped.

But after she began her training as a noble bride, the place was abandoned. Dust coated everything. The rocking chair where Laurea used to doze had rotted away, and the old rug was moth-eaten and full of holes.

Danel didn’t mind the decay. Dust-covered memories felt appropriate.

Besides, the annex was the perfect place to vanish without disturbance. It was far enough from the mansion that even a raging fire would take a while to be noticed. By then, Danel would already be reduced to ash.

He hurled the vial of liquid. Crash. The sharp sound echoed as the reagent spilled out.

The wood walls glinted with shattered glass before being consumed by flames.

Danel lay still, watching the fire spread deeper into the annex. He was outside on the terrace; he could have easily escaped by standing up. But he didn’t move. He waited, devoid of any sense of reality, for the flames to consume him.

Is that why I dreamt of fire…?

Even in the searing heat that tore at his skin, death felt unreal. Perhaps that was because Danel Beloce had already died on the day he cradled Laurea’s lifeless body in his arms.

The flames devoured the oak walls and spread to the dilapidated rocking chair. Mold and moss sparked as they burned, sending tiny embers into the air. The sound stirred a belated sense of regret in Danel. Watching Laurea sit in that chair used to be the only joy in his life.

It hit him then: his entire existence was tangled in memories of Laurea. Choosing this annex, crafting the incendiary reagent, even learning life-saving medical skills to force her to keep breathing—it was all because of her. He had wanted to steal even a fraction of her time from Petios.

But in the end, Danel had changed nothing. He hadn’t erased Petios from Laurea’s life, nor had he filled the void. He could manipulate her body, but when her green eyes looked straight into his, he was powerless.

Suddenly, the first floor’s partially collapsed ceiling caved in, sending a shower of crimson sparks onto the terrace roof.

Danel watched dispassionately as his escape route was cut off. The terrace would soon collapse too, and he would die surrounded by memories of Laurea. It was an almost luxurious death for a coward running from the woman who had rejected him, even in death.

But his grim expectation shattered with the sharp thud of a spear piercing the night air.

A throwing spear flew in an arc through the fire and struck a sandbag near the terrace edge. Its contents spilled out, hissing as the coarse sand met the burning floor.

It wasn’t enough to douse the flames. The fire quickly consumed the spear’s s***t, barely slowing down.

But Danel stirred.

He slowly rose, his gaze locking on a dark brown figure beyond the shimmering heat: a horse, its mane whipping in the wind. A white cloth attached to its saddle flapped wildly.

Before Danel could register the sight, another spear shot through the air, puncturing another sandbag and spilling its contents over the burning floor.

Danel stood, walking straight through the flames toward the open fence. His clothes and shoes burned, his skin seared—but he paid it no mind. His entire focus was on the woman mounted on the horse.

With unwavering steps, he reached the saddle, extending his arms to wrap them securely around Laurea’s back and thighs. He had no idea how she had found him or why she had come. All he saw was how utterly exhausted she looked, and he wanted to help her.

The moment Laurea’s feet touched the ground, she slapped Danel hard across the face.

“You.”

Her voice cut through the sound of collapsing beams.

Only then did Danel’s expression soften. Her voice grounded him, making it clear he wasn’t hallucinating. Each syllable struck sharply in his mind.

“Were you really planning to leave without saying a word?”

Danel tilted his head.

What is she talking about? There was nothing he could say that she would want to hear.

When he stayed silent, Laurea’s face twisted with anger. Her clenched fists struck his chest repeatedly.

“I asked you what you wanted! I asked from the beginning—what were you trying to achieve? Why do I still have to ask that now?”

Her trembling hands grabbed the front of his shirt. Her shoulders shook violently.

“Didn’t you go this far because there was something you wanted? So why are you just sitting here, waiting to die…?”

She didn’t lift her head, so all Danel could see was the crown of her head covered in thick brown hair. But her voice was strained with unshed tears, and he knew exactly what that meant.

Danel tried to picture what kind of expression Laurea might be wearing, but strangely, he couldn’t imagine it. After watching her for decades, he thought he knew every face she could make. Yet now, he drew a blank.

Cautiously, he cupped her tear-streaked cheeks in his hands. His burned forearms stung, but his racing pulse drowned out the pain. The moment her wet green eyes locked onto his, nothing else mattered.

He let out a shaky breath. His chest felt so tight he could barely breathe. He spat out words like they were torn from his throat.

“Even if I told you… the ending wouldn’t change. I’ve done things worthy of the pyre.”

“I might not tell anyone else.”

“That makes it even less necessary for you to know. Officially, it has nothing to do with you anymore.”

Smack.

Her hand struck his face again. This time, Danel realized—with some surprise—that it actually hurt.