What Remains in the Damaged Place - Chapter 66

“He kept saying that Lagael was still alive.”

“…”

“Must’ve completely lost his mind…”

“…”

“That’s impossible, right?”

Lagael.

Valderion remembered the name vividly as well.

Prince Lagael had been an outcast, unable to adapt to the harsh atmosphere of the imperial palace. Unlike his cruel and arrogant siblings, who were ruthless and unyielding, Lagael was gentle, soft-hearted—so much so that it was hard to believe he shared the same royal blood.

Because of that, he was always rejected.

He stood out, unable to comprehend the viciousness of his kin, and as a result, was constantly the target of ridicule and disdain.

Then, after a certain incident, Lagael was killed—at least, that was what the world was led to believe.

In truth, the Duke of Justitia had intervened. Valderion’s father, deeming Lagael too valuable to let die, had secretly saved him, pulling him from the brink of death and hiding him away.

From that distant past to the present day, Lagael had lived in quiet obscurity, hidden from the eyes of the imperial family and others.

He had been sent to the coastal city of Pellini.

There, he was under the protection of Valderion’s cousin, Roziela, who ran a large merchant guild. Roziela acted under the orders of the Justitia family, which, in turn, aligned with Valderion’s directives.

Every two months, a letter arrived from Pellini at the Justitia estate in the capital—news of Lagael’s wellbeing.

Lagael’s survival, of course, was a closely guarded secret.

If the imperial family ever learned of it, it could trigger a rift between the empire’s two great powers, the sun and the moon.

So extreme caution was necessary.

And now, Dylan had brought up this forbidden topic.

“…”

Valderion silently scrutinized Dylan, trying to gauge his intentions. But the crown prince seemed utterly nonchalant, as if casually discussing something trivial, showing no sign of concern or calculation.

Was he trying to provoke him?

Valderion gave a small, dismissive smile, his face betraying nothing.

“The emperor must have felt quite lonely at the end,” he said.

“…”

“Especially if he was mentioning a prince who had long since crossed into twilight.”

With that, he hammered home the absurdity of Dylan’s words, leaving no room for further speculation. The faint smile on Dylan’s lips gradually faded.

Dylan turned his head with a huff, as though bored now that his interest had waned.

Valderion, delivering a final reminder to not be late for the funeral, left the room. As he walked, the composed mask he had worn began to peel away with each step.

Of course, there was little chance that Lagael’s whereabouts would be discovered now.

Even if the rumor of his survival were to surface, actually finding him would be nearly impossible.

That’s why Lagael had been hidden in Roziela’s care in the first place.

Pellini, a coastal city with one of the world’s largest ports.

A place where thousands of foreign merchants came and went each day, making it the perfect location to disappear without a trace.

Moreover, the Justitia family had long stationed their private soldiers there, under Roziela’s command. These troops had been trained as a contingency plan, though they had never been deployed, as the relationship between the Justitia family and the imperial family had remained unshaken for years.

Roziela, managing the merchant guild, also oversaw this hidden military force. She was sharp and competent, so Valderion trusted her to handle things, but even so, one could never be too cautious.

“It’s best to keep a low profile for a while.”

Valderion glanced up at the sky through the window as he walked down the corridor. The weather was as dreary as ever.

***

Gripping the railing as she descended the stairs, Lirette glanced toward the window.

“The weather still hasn’t cleared up.”

The sky caught her eye as it appeared through the crossing window frames.

The dark clouds, swirling ominously, showed no sign of breaking. She had hoped for a downpour to clear the sky, but for days now, the weather had remained unchanged.

Lirette massaged her stiff shoulders absentmindedly.

At first, she thought she had slept in an awkward position.

But as her hands moved and her thoughts deepened, she realized that wasn’t the case.

This was the aftermath of her night with Valderion.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she let out a soft, sigh-like breath and approached the window.

No longer was she confined to the drab underground room she used to occupy. Valderion’s bedroom, where he had stayed for brief periods in the evenings, had now become her living space.

This change wasn’t intentional on anyone’s part; it had simply happened naturally.

At some point, sleeping with him had become routine, and when she awoke, it was always in that large, plush bed.

Though calm and composed in most matters, Valderion seemed insatiable in this particular act.

Even when she was awake, and occasionally even while she was asleep, he would engage in it. Those times, she would wake abruptly, disoriented, her breath quickening as she clung to him.

The nightly “treatments” had now been completely replaced by intercourse.

Perhaps that’s why, even when he was gone for several days, the side effects of Naeme didn’t flare up as intensely. Whether that was a good thing or not… she wasn’t sure.

More than that, the act itself left a peculiar discomfort in her heart.

And with that discomfort came pleasure.

Each night, Lirette found herself caught in a storm of chaotic emotions, her thoughts tangled in the aftermath of their encounters.

She knew why her feelings were so messy.

Her relationship with Valderion had never been clearly defined.

There were too many labels that could describe them, and that was the problem.

A criminal from a traitorous family and the man who had brought her to justice.

An imbalanced relationship where only one held Naeme and the other was utterly dependent on it.

A connection where there was no affection, yet their bodies met frequently…

It was complicated. And difficult to understand.

Thus, it was always awkward and difficult.

The undefined nature of their relationship weighed heavily on a corner of Lirette’s heart, making it ache.

“Isn’t the imperial funeral supposed to end today?”

“Yeah, time flies, doesn’t it?”

Lost in her thoughts, Lirette suddenly heard voices approaching.

They were speaking in hushed tones, as if sharing gossip. By chance, Lirette had ended up standing near a protruding column, hidden from their view.

“The whole country’s in turmoil.”

“Tell me about it. Who knows what’s going to happen next?”

“The master left for the funeral a few days ago, right?”

“Yes, he should be back either today or tomorrow.”

Unaware of Lirette’s presence, the two continued their conversation. Though she hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help overhearing them. Feeling uncomfortable about it, Lirette thought of slipping away to avoid overhearing more.

“By the way, did you hear about Daisy?”

The previously casual tone suddenly dropped, as if they were about to discuss something secretive.

“Oh, you mean how the master’s bedroom was a complete mess?”

Lirette, half-curious and half-uneasy, found herself frozen in place, her footsteps halted.

“Yeah! I heard it took over an hour just to clean up.”

“Well, considering the master spent every night with her before leaving for the funeral…”

“I guess they’re not even bothering to hide it anymore. I mean, taking her to that hunting competition where everyone could see…”

The topic of their conversation had shifted—to her and the duke.

“How could they do that every night? Like animals.”

Though their tone was disapproving, it was laced with a base curiosity, as if they found some thrill in discussing it.

Lirette felt increasingly uncomfortable.

Had she been caught earlier, it might have been easier to walk away, but now that she had overheard them gossiping about her, revealing herself would only make things awkward for everyone involved.

“But… do you think they’re using protection?”

That question struck deep within Lirette’s mind.

“Of course they are. With Brilline, maybe it wouldn’t matter, but the duke’s already engaged. He’s not going to jeopardize his future for a fleeting affair.”

“Exactly. Imagine how messy it would be if the mistress got pregnant right before his wedding.”

Thankfully, before Lirette could figure out what to do, the voices began to fade as the two gossips moved elsewhere.

Protection?

Lirette stood there, her mind repeating the word over and over.

The more she thought about it, the more the ground beneath her seemed to give way, leaving her feeling unsteady.

It was as if something she had thought had nothing to do with her had suddenly invaded her life.

For some, this might have been common knowledge.

But nothing was common knowledge for everyone.

Lirette had lost her family, her home, and her sense of self at the age of eight.

For someone like her, the idea of “protection” was a distant concept.

She had seen doctors frequently in her youth, but it had always been for injuries like bruises or broken bones. Even when she was under Dylan’s care, he had never touched her in a sexual way, so the notion of protection had never crossed her mind.

As a result, she hadn’t given it any thought at all.

The true nature of what she had been doing with Valderion, and the potential for pregnancy, had never even occurred to her.

The reality of it all began to sink in, filling her with an unsettling weight.