What Remains in the Damaged Place - Chapter 72

Valderion watched the way her silver hair shook gently, swaying back and forth in time with his forceful thrusts from behind. Each time her hair shifted, the black mark hidden beneath would flicker into view.

His gaze, hazy with lust and intoxication, swept over the tantalizing sight of her back. He was certain—this was the most beautiful line in the world.

From the delicate rise of her shoulder blades to the curve of her slender waist, and the smooth swell of her hips… no other form could be more perfect.

With eyes clouded by desire, these vulgar thoughts filled his mind.

Lirette was beginning to tire.

She was already struggling to maintain balance due to the height difference between them, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. In such an unstable position, her body kept being rocked back and forth, causing her hands to slip. She truly felt like she was going to fall over at any moment.

She tried to reach behind her, slapping his arm and pushing against his thigh, but Valderion continued to move like an untamed beast.

“D-Duke… please!”

He didn’t so much as flinch at her words.

At this point, Lirette could only be sure that he was deliberately toying with her. Her trembling legs couldn’t hold out much longer. Every part of her body already felt like it was screaming in protest, muscles tightening and pulling.

“Val… Valderion, s-stop…”

Before she could finish pleading, her words were cut off as he claimed her lips in a sudden, fierce kiss the moment she uttered his name.

The instant her voice turned his name into a melodic note, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her body shifted, and he hoisted her up.

With the intense heat from their feverish bodies fading, a chill crept in, making her slender frame tremble slightly. Valderion, with one hand, deftly reached for a towel from the nearby shelf and draped it over her, covering her with practiced ease.

Even as they exited the bathroom, he didn’t stop kissing her.

Lirette, too, clung to him instinctively, as though the chill of the air were piercing her skin like needles once the warmth of his body began to fade.

Finally, when they reached the bed, the towel that had covered her slipped away as easily as if it were an unnecessary shell.

***

The crackling of the fire was what woke Lirette.

Even after opening her eyes, she lay there for a long time, staring blankly. Her body ached as if a heavy boulder had been placed on top of her, every part of her sore.

Unlike the dull ache of her limbs, the arm draped over her waist felt very real.

Lirette reached down, cautiously brushing her fingers over his arm.

No response, even after she touched him a few times. He must have been fast asleep.

Well, it made sense.

While she had drifted in and out of consciousness—unsure if she had been asleep or simply fainting—Valderion had stayed awake the entire time, continuing his relentless exploration of her body. Her lingering memories were faint, but she knew he hadn’t stopped.

“Haah…”

She let out a low breath, her throat dry and parched.

She was thirsty.

Lirette tried to ease his arm from around her waist, as if she might escape at any moment. But even though his hold was loose in his sleep, his sheer size made it difficult, and she struggled to free herself from his grasp.

After finally managing to wriggle out of his arms, Lirette sat at the edge of the bed. Glancing behind her, she saw that Valderion was still fast asleep, breathing steadily.

For a moment, she looked down at his face—a face so beautiful that it was hard to see any fault in it, no matter how long she stared.

“He broke off the engagement.”

She hadn’t known.

She never imagined he would make such a decision…

Yet, the annulment had been clearly of his own volition.

Lirette knew exactly what that meant for him.

In high society, no matter the reason, breaking off an engagement was considered a disgrace.

Disgrace.

She never thought that a scandalous word like that would be associated with the name of Justitia.

In other words, some kind of blemish had been etched into his otherwise flawless, noble life.

“Ever since I met you, I feel like I’ve been losing myself.”

When Valderion had said those words in the bathtub, he had looked as though he were scolding himself.

As if he truly couldn’t understand why he was acting this way.

Lirette felt the same.

It wasn’t strange to harbor a lifetime of hatred and resentment for Justitia.

The man before her embodied everything—his name, his family, his power.

The comment about him being like Dylan had been a reckless remark, made in the heat of the moment. But no one knew better than Lirette that, fundamentally, Valderion was different from Dylan.

He wasn’t like Dylan.

Because of that…

That’s why her heart kept… behaving this way…

Lirette stood up from the bed, as though trying to avoid facing something.

“Why does everything turn into such a mess whenever I’m with him?”

It was only then that the disarray around the bed came into view.

Just like in the greenhouse before, the bedroom today was also in shambles.

Tables and chairs were overturned, glass cups, books, and documents were scattered carelessly across the floor. The chaos seemed to mirror the places they had spent time together the night before.

“Is it always like this?”

Lirette picked up a nightgown draped over a chair—thankfully one that hadn’t been knocked over. It was so large that wearing it made her feel like she was trailing the hem of an extravagant dress.

The crackling of the fire grew louder as she walked across the room.

In one corner, a fireplace was roaring with flames. Though it had been unused during the spring and summer, the fire was now lit in preparation for the fast-approaching winter.

As she headed toward the fireplace, something brushed against her foot.

The tickling sensation made her look down, and she noticed a letter sticking out from the pile of documents.

What caught her attention was the gold embossing that glittered in the flickering firelight.

‘This is…’

It was a letter sent from the Imperial Palace.

She picked it up absentmindedly, noticing that it had not yet been opened.

Lirette fingered the deep red wax seal that adorned it.

Three fully bloomed roses.

It was the unique stamp of the Crown Prince.

‘Did Dylan send him a letter?’

Lirette glanced over her shoulder.

The bed was silent and still, devoid of any movement.

Crack.

Her hand moved involuntarily, tearing open the wax seal.

Swish.

As she carefully unfolded the letter, her palms grew damp with sweat.

“To my dear brother,”

The letter began with those words.

Dylan, who had been raised with an arrogant and audacious nature, didn’t bother with flowery language. Only in official correspondences from the palace would he use a scribe’s elegant penmanship. For personal matters like this, his brash personality shone through without hesitation.

Lirette skimmed the short letter quickly, her eyes darting across the diagonal lines of text.

It was the final sentence that caught her attention.

“Don’t forget our agreement from the Water Garden, where you promised to return my toy to me.”

The letter slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

As it brushed her foot before landing, Lirette stumbled backward, as if she had been startled by the touch.

Her rigid eyes wandered over the fallen letter.

My toy.

Promised to return to me.

An agreement…

Lirette clamped her hand over her mouth.

For a moment, it felt as though all the blood in her body had turned ice cold. She couldn’t react; her entire body was paralyzed.

Even after squeezing her eyes shut and taking several deep breaths, her chest refused to settle, heaving violently as panic set in.

Did they… make an agreement?

Valderion and Dylan had made an agreement…

Was this his plan from the beginning?

A chilling realization unfolded in her mind, as if the situation was playing out before her eyes.

When the year passed and the name only appeared on her, had he planned to send her back to Dylan all along? If that wasn’t the case, why would Valderion have made such a promise to Dylan?

Valderion was nothing like the Crown Prince—he knew very well the weight and consequences of his words and actions.

That’s why…

“…”

A strange sensation welled up from deep within her, spreading through her body.

Yet, despite the heat building inside, her mind remained cold.

It was an odd feeling, as if her reason and emotions were acting in opposition to one another.

Her neck throbbed, tension pulling tightly at the base of her skull, and her fingertips grew stiff.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that Lirette could put a name to the sensation.

This was… betrayal.

As she blinked, a series of questions bubbled up like foam.

Betrayal…?

Why would I feel betrayed by Valderion?

Betrayal is something you feel only toward someone you trust or rely on.

So why… would I feel this way toward him?

It was at that moment that an unexpected tear slid down her cheek and fell to the floor.

The falling tear brought a swift end to her confusion.

Her eyes widened in stunned disbelief, as though she had suddenly come face to face with something she had long been avoiding.

It was the moment she finally confronted the emotions she had stubbornly tried to deny.

The realization crashed into her like a tidal wave, soaking her mind with the sad truth she hadn’t been ready to acknowledge.

More silent tears fell, dropping onto the rug beneath her.

“…Ugh.”

As she confronted her feelings and the grim reality of her situation, Lirette felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

She collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her knees.

The thin nightgown she wore grew damp with her tears, the moisture spreading endlessly like a stain.

The despair that came from finally confronting the truth of her emotions was even more crushing than she had imagined.