What Remains in the Damaged Place - Chapter 100

“His Majesty, Rageil, is alive…,” Lirette murmured, her expression filled with a sense of awe.

“He is no longer Prince Rageil,” Valderion corrected gently. “He is now the Emperor.”

Lirette’s face reflected a mixture of emotions—surprise, nostalgia, and the gravity of the news. Valderion watched her reaction, sensing a complex web of emotions within her, including a quiet yearning. He couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the realization that a part of her still held affection for memories of the past, memories that included another man.

“His Majesty mentioned how long it’s been since he last saw you,” Valderion said, his voice measured.

“Ah…” Lirette’s smile softened, recalling her rare encounters with the Emperor during her childhood. “We didn’t meet often. Only occasionally.”

Valderion’s gaze darkened slightly as he watched her fondly reminisce. He reached out, gently grasping her chin to turn her face toward him, ensuring her attention was fixed on him alone.

“So he still knows a version of you that I don’t,” he murmured, his tone betraying a hint of unease.

It wasn’t logical to feel jealous of someone from her past, especially someone like Rageil, who was now the Emperor and a distant figure. But hearing her talk about another man—any man—stirred a possessiveness in Valderion that he found hard to suppress. He wanted to erase the mention of any man from her lips, to claim her entirely for himself.

Feeling the intensity of his gaze, Lirette blinked, her own eyes flickering in confusion. The warmth of his hand, the weight of his touch on her cheek, seemed to fill her with a gentle discomfort. It was like a small itch in the back of her mind, a sensation that stirred emotions she couldn’t quite grasp.

And then, the tension that had been building in Valderion’s chest spilled over.

“Lirette,” he said, his voice low and almost instinctual. “Marry me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered, caught off guard by the sudden proposal.

“I’ll give you anything you want, anything you ask for,” he continued, his voice rich with sincerity. “But I want you as my wife.”

It was a sweet and compelling proposal, the kind that should have made her heart race. But instead of replying, Lirette froze. Her lips, which had been moving so freely before, pressed together tightly.

Valderion’s fingers traced the curve of her jaw, gliding gently up to her cheek, as he waited. He watched her intently, silently pleading for a response. But her silence lingered, and the more it stretched on, the more that silence weighed on him like a field of thorns beneath his skin.

“Lirette, I asked you to marry me,” he repeated, his voice softer but sharper, as if trying to cut through the quiet barrier she had erected.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lirette blinked again. She turned her face slightly away from him, and his hand, once resting on her skin, now hung awkwardly in the air.

“…I don’t know,” she whispered at last.

It wasn’t the response he had been hoping for.

Valderion studied her face. Her words were understated, but her expression was conflicted, tangled with emotions she wasn’t yet ready to untangle. Though her reply lacked certainty, her feelings were clearly more complex than her simple answer suggested.

Still, her response gave him no satisfaction. If anything, it felt like a dismissal. A rejection not of him, but of the very concept of the future he had imagined with her. He could feel his emotions simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over, but he held back.

The dice had been cast. He had offered her his heart, and now the choice was hers to make. He had no control over how she would answer, and that was a maddening realization.

***

The next morning, a gentle tickling sensation brushed against Lirette’s shoulder, stirring her from sleep. Her body felt much better than it had in the days prior, and waking wasn’t as difficult as it had been. As she opened her eyes, the sight of Valderion beside her caught her off guard.

When did he come? she wondered.

She had fallen asleep alone the previous night, yet here he was, lying next to her. Though she knew he had been sleeping in her room nearly every night since her return, it still felt strange, like an unexpected jolt of her heart every time she saw him so close.

This time, seeing his face relaxed in sleep felt particularly intimate. She had grown used to being the one constantly in bed, recovering, while he watched over her. But now, he was the one resting beside her.

Something white was resting on his dark hair.

Magnolia petals?

Her groggy mind cleared as she realized what they were—delicate magnolia blossoms that had drifted in through the window. At first, she had thought it was snow, but no, it was spring.

Lirette reached out, gently taking one of the petals between her fingers. The softness of the petal felt fragile in her grasp, as if too much pressure would cause it to crumble. She let it fall, only to realize there were many more strewn across the bed, their pale forms scattered like whispers.

She glanced toward the half-open window, seeing the breeze that carried the petals inside. So that’s where they were coming from.

Lirette quietly got up and crossed the room to close the window, shutting out the soft spring wind. As she stepped back into bed, she noticed that Valderion had discarded his shirt. Her eyes drifted to his chest, but not to admire the taut muscle beneath his skin.

It was the ink that caught her attention.

Her name was etched into his skin—”Lirette.” Her full name, Lirette Blewitt, was written across his heart, in deep black script. The sight of her own name, so boldly inked into his flesh, left her stunned.

He must have felt the same, back when the Neim first manifested, she thought.

She wondered what had been going through his mind at that moment. Did he feel the same confusion, the same weight of fate as she did now?

Her thoughts deepened, spiraling into the moment, as she gazed at her name permanently marked on his chest.

It must have hurt.

I’m sure of it.

Because I, too, was in such pain that I felt like I was dying.

From the manifestation itself, and even beyond that…

“Your condition wasn’t very good. In addition to the side effects of the Name, there was insomnia, some anxiety, and so on… Since you never once showed any signs of distress, it made those around you even more nervous. Even the butler, who rarely shows emotions, couldn’t leave your bedroom day or night.”

Unlike me, when we met again, he looked perfectly fine, so I discreetly asked the attending physician, who visited the bedroom once a day. The doctor just shook his head as if to say, ‘Don’t even ask,’ and gave me that kind of answer.

Insomnia…

It was an illness that I could hardly imagine, especially seeing him now, deeply asleep.

But Lirette knew well how insidious its onset was, and how severe its effects could be.

Back when she stubbornly cast away his warmth and curled up like a shrimp in the cold basement, trying to sleep, she had already felt that deep solitude.

To be exhausted and tired, yet unable to fall asleep, was truly a painful thing.

Thinking about how he must have been constantly tense throughout the day, leading the great rebellion and searching for me, likely unable to sleep properly, left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Lirette carefully brushed his disheveled hair.

She softly kissed the forehead that was as delicately exposed as a part of a beautiful sculpture. He, who had come to bed only at dawn after a long night of work, continued to sleep soundly without a stir.

Her lips, a little bolder now, lightly touched his sharp nose and then brushed against his cheek.

Finally, as if reaching the last stop, her lips grazed his.

“…Ugh!”

Suddenly, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.

The soft kiss turned into a deep one, changing drastically under his spontaneous action—when he had woken up, she couldn’t even tell. Only after a long time of being kissed and sucked did Lirette manage to catch her breath.

“Is this your answer to my proposal?”

Valderion, with a drowsy expression, whispered as if he had received a pleasant gift first thing in the morning.

Though his shameless behavior would normally make her flustered, she had grown used to him over the past few days, where everything he did seemed to connect back to his marriage proposal.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah…”

He answered, but it seemed he wasn’t fully awake yet, as he hugged Lirette tightly and nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck. As his large body shifted on the bed, the blankets swayed, and magnolia petals that had gently rested on them fluttered around.

“The window’s open, so the magnolia petals have filled the bed.”

“It was unusually warm last night, so I left it open a little.”

That explained why it was suddenly open.

“How’s your body feeling?”

He asked the usual morning question, as if it were a daily ritual.

“I’m really fine now. I even went for a walk in the garden with Camon yesterday.”

“So that’s why he seemed so excited.”

As they continued talking, the sleepiness seemed to gradually fade from his voice, and his tone became clearer. But only his voice—the lazy way he held her and enjoyed the moment didn’t change. Though the morning sun was already bright, he clung to Lirette as if savoring a leisurely evening.

It was behavior unbecoming of a duke, someone who normally had a packed schedule and would have risen from bed early to attend to his duties.

“Why are you taking your time today?”

“Because I don’t want to get up.”

His childish stubbornness made Lirette chuckle.

“I want to get up.”

“You really don’t appreciate romance.”

He seemed to want to linger longer, but as Lirette rose from the bed, he reluctantly followed suit.

Still intent on dawdling, he didn’t leave right away but sat down with her on the long sofa.