063. Two days left
“Why did you come?”
Emilia, who had asked insincerely, stood next to him without making eye contact or looking at his face properly.
Hardius stared at her blankly, then replied, “Just.” He didn’t even pause for a moment before turning his indifferent eyes back to the sky.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the rain. Neither of them spoke first. The only thing that settled between them was the dim streetlight and the deafening, loud sound of rain.
Time passed by slowly, riding the rain. Emilia, who was pressed against the porch, felt extreme fatigue creeping up the soles of her feet.
Had I been working myself too hard for days trying to find a job? She was so tired that she felt like she would faint if her back touched the wall.
In contrast to herself, the man looks so peaceful and full of energy.
How could that be possible?
What did I have to do for that little money? What was I treated like?
The desire to scratch viciously and draw blood dug under her fingernails.
I hate you. I really, really hate you.
It felt like something was going to explode.
At the end of a day that felt like war, unresolved emotions were about to overflow.
Emilia grabbed the gun hidden under her shawl with all her might. When she realized that Hardius was in front of the house, the first thing she did was ask Uncle Beppy for the gun.
Even though the magazine was empty, she was prepared to point the gun at him if he provoked her again.
She wanted to break him. She wanted to break him.
But he was breathtakingly indifferent. It was the kind of face that always made Emilia uncomfortable.
What would happen if she took out a gun right now and aimed it at that guy's heart?
Would he panic? No, he wouldn't blink an eye at that level. He'd laugh at her again, saying, "What are you doing without bullets?"
“Does anything hurt?”
Emilia's stiff head turned at the sudden question.
For the first time since they met, their eyes met directly.
"...No."
Emilia immediately turned her head. It was such a brief moment that it was hard to say she 'saw' it.
And yet, they were perfectly imprinted on each other.
To Hardius, a cold gaze, and to Emilia, a perfectly dressed naval uniform.
One pleasant thing was that Hardius, in his officer's uniform, did not make her heart flutter or flutter as much as before. Emilia opened her mouth deliberately, wanting to let him know that fact.
“Did you have a formal dinner? Or did you go to school?”
“I have come back from meeting Her Majesty the Queen.”
For a moment, her body tensed up. He had dressed up in my formal attire and went to see the Queen. Then, seeing him come here so suddenly, she wondered if...
“Surely not, a breakup...”
"Not yet."
As soon as he gave his cut answer, a puff of white breath burst into the air.
Emilia stared at the debris disappearing into the rain. She suddenly felt tired and empty.
“Well, whether we break off the engagement or not, it doesn’t matter to you anymore, my lord.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter.”
Her chest felt tight again. Her eyes, which had been blinking at the empty space, turned back to her feet, which were becoming damp.
The sound of rain began to cover everything. The gun in her hand felt infinitely fleeting and childish.
It's no use fighting. That guy won't stop.
Hardius Meyer is no different from Dram. He's turning her into a useless puppet.
Something twisted and twisted was stimulating Emilia's heart.
Instead of pointing a gun at him, Emilia took a different approach.
“Please, I beg you.”
As soon as she whispered weakly, she fell to her knees with a thud. His shiny leather shoes stopped for a moment.
“I beg you like this.”
It was a voice that contained all the bitter frustration of the past few days.
It was her first time kneeling before a person, but a sense of desperation beyond misery was suffocating her.
“Please stop.”
She thought Hardius would be surprised. Or angry.
But even after doing all this, his body doesn't even turn completely towards Emilia.
“The young master laughed, but I always thought there was some kind of loyalty between us.”
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her temples.
Emilia took a deep breath and continued speaking with difficulty.
“...I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any fondness for you, Master. I also remember ‘Elver’ fondly.”
The more she spoke, the more Emilia felt a hollowness in her chest.
“But that’s all. Just because I forgave you for the past five years and felt good about you, I have no intention of continuing our relationship. I’ll say it again, don’t take away my last bit of loyalty to you. Please.”
“...Yes, stand up.”
Instead of raising her body, Emilia buried her head in the floor.
“There is a depth to the feeling of ‘liking’. Just because you had a fleeting crush on Elver, it can’t be a truly deep feeling. It’s as shallow and light as this rainwater that disappears in an instant. That kind of feeling is impulsive and fickle, so it disappears quickly. All that’s left is regret.”
"Stop."
The dark, hushed voice was hard to hear. Emilia continued speaking with difficulty, feeling as if she was struggling in front of a whirlpool.
“I really want to be free now. This has nothing to do with feelings. For the past five years, I’ve felt like I’ve been caught in a trap. I really hate it. Really, really.”
Emilia spoke each word forcefully, as if she were vomiting blood.
“I think I’m going crazy because of you, Master. I’m so sick of it, I could die.”
The hand that had been hidden under her shawl suddenly lost its strength. Emilia placed the pistol down in front of him.
“Please take it. This is just as creepy as you are now, Master. If you don’t take it, I have no choice but to throw it away, but you know I’m not cruel. So I have no choice but to do this.”
The raindrops that had poured in tapped the cold metal.
“Please, let me remember you as a good person. I beg you.”
How much time had passed? The man's long fingers picked up the rain-soaked gun.
The eerie air of dawn hovers between them.
“What on earth are we doing? I really don’t know where it all went wrong... I... never imagined that my relationship with you would turn out like this. I thought we would break off the engagement by now and live happily ever after. You... before you forced yourself into an engagement with me, there was someone you had already promised to marry. Think about that person.”
Emilia mustered up her courage and looked up at Hardius.
She thought he would be a little shaken since she got down on her knees and begged him. Wasn't he the man who pushed Charlotte's swing?
But Hardy Meyer remains cold and frighteningly unmoved.
“Are you done talking?”
That voice, without any high or low tones or rhythm, was eerie.
“I told you I’d give you a week. And now you have two days left.”
Hardius turned around. He disappeared into the dim light of the carriage that was flashing through the dark forest.
The heavy rain hit his body hard. However, Hardius walked slowly without feeling a thing.
'What on earth are we doing?'
A cold voice echoed fiercely.
It was a valid question, so he had to answer it.
Above all, isn't this a question that Hardius himself has asked himself countless times?
What am I doing now?
The problem is that the answer to that question is both clear and ambiguous.
It was a realm of emotions, not reason and logic, and Meyer does not give names to emotions. Have you ever tracked and extracted emotions to your advantage in your life?
“Huh? Your Excellency!”
The coachman came running towards Hardius, who was walking in the rain, holding a lamp and an umbrella. The coachman was startled when the swaying light illuminated the pistol hanging precariously in his master's hand.
Hardius also glanced down at the damp pistol.
Yeah, maybe it's because of this damn gun.
After he couldn't resist the impulse and handed the gun to Emilia, all the weak emotions from his childhood came back to him and grabbed his heart with a frightening grip.
Ever since he learned of the existence of the secret meeting, Hardius has been constantly in fear. He was afraid that his fiancée would be murdered.
All sorts of extreme scenes flashed before his eyes, from William Richard personally going to her and brutally murdering her, to the assassin setting fire to her house or poisoning her food.
At the end of his extreme imagination, Hardius always took out the gun from the drawer. He wanted to find the girl, reveal the truth, give her the gun, and tell her to run away.
It was a foolish idea, but it was better than doing nothing.
He's going to ride a horse secretly at dawn.
But what about the guards sleeping right next to him?
There was also a way to deliver the letter secretly. Or, he could create a trustworthy person to deliver it.
It wasn't easy. At the time, his world was tightly sealed off by high walls on all sides.
The Watchers were everywhere, always. Every moment, every breath.
There was only one chance. There was only one banquet.
Hardius meticulously planned out a situation where the two of them could be alone. The route of the servants, the movement during the banquet, and even the layout.
And on the day of the banquet, he finally came face to face with his fiancée, who was wandering around the garden, avoiding people.
The girl was watching a squirrel in a tree.
Hardius strode forward. The time given was less than a minute. In that short time, he had to hand over the gun and money and tell her to run away.
He was confident. It was a moment he had been preparing for for months.
But after walking only a few steps, Hardius stopped dead in his tracks.
The child, who had been desperately waiting for the squirrel to look at her with a cookie crumb in her hand, suddenly lost his mind.
Even if he were to give you a few pennies and a pistol and tell you to run away, would that be possible?
Emilia Bern is not a single person. As far as he knows, she has a stepmother, a younger sibling, and a younger sister who is blind.
Above all, the moment she learn the truth, she will be plagued by the fear of death every day. Hardius knew better than anyone how much that would make life a living hell.
A life of being chased by a great power, a life of running away, can you endure it?
The truth doesn't solve everything. Maybe it's safer and better to live without knowing. The mother and other powers have already lost interest in the child.
Hardius steeled himself and gave up on his plan. He thought it was a wise decision.
But just before hr turned around, when his eyes met with the child who had given up on the squirrel, he realized.
For fuck's sake, don't make excuses.
It's not that he didn't tell her the truth; it's that he didn't tell her on purpose. He hated it. The fact that he would never see her again.
He wanted to run away, but he was afraid that she would run away.
He was afraid that she would disappear forever, even though he hoped that she would disappear forever, to a place where she would never be found.
No woman could ever accept this vile and murky world, surrounded by those who seek to kill her.
Also, she will never forgive that vile man who knew all the facts but hid them.
So he didn't tell her. For extremely selfish reasons. And even after several years, it was still the same.
'I think I'm going crazy because of you, Master. I'm so sick of you, I think I'm going to die.'
The woman who had been begging on her knees was twisting his chest.
You only plan to abandon me in some way. You reject anything I give you and deny anything I say.
What a fucking woman.
How have I lived? What have I done to protect just you?
He doesn't want to make any more useless efforts.
What's the point of waiting around like a retard? Their relationship was doomed from the start anyway. It's been a long time since the means and methods stopped being an issue.
Whether she hates me or not, whether she's had sex with other guys or not, whether I'm a good guy or a bad guy...
I'd gladly throw away my damn conscience.
I'll just have it. Now.
“Why did you come?”
Emilia, who had asked insincerely, stood next to him without making eye contact or looking at his face properly.
Hardius stared at her blankly, then replied, “Just.” He didn’t even pause for a moment before turning his indifferent eyes back to the sky.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the rain. Neither of them spoke first. The only thing that settled between them was the dim streetlight and the deafening, loud sound of rain.
Time passed by slowly, riding the rain. Emilia, who was pressed against the porch, felt extreme fatigue creeping up the soles of her feet.
Had I been working myself too hard for days trying to find a job? She was so tired that she felt like she would faint if her back touched the wall.
In contrast to herself, the man looks so peaceful and full of energy.
How could that be possible?
What did I have to do for that little money? What was I treated like?
The desire to scratch viciously and draw blood dug under her fingernails.
I hate you. I really, really hate you.
It felt like something was going to explode.
At the end of a day that felt like war, unresolved emotions were about to overflow.
Emilia grabbed the gun hidden under her shawl with all her might. When she realized that Hardius was in front of the house, the first thing she did was ask Uncle Beppy for the gun.
Even though the magazine was empty, she was prepared to point the gun at him if he provoked her again.
She wanted to break him. She wanted to break him.
But he was breathtakingly indifferent. It was the kind of face that always made Emilia uncomfortable.
What would happen if she took out a gun right now and aimed it at that guy's heart?
Would he panic? No, he wouldn't blink an eye at that level. He'd laugh at her again, saying, "What are you doing without bullets?"
“Does anything hurt?”
Emilia's stiff head turned at the sudden question.
For the first time since they met, their eyes met directly.
"...No."
Emilia immediately turned her head. It was such a brief moment that it was hard to say she 'saw' it.
And yet, they were perfectly imprinted on each other.
To Hardius, a cold gaze, and to Emilia, a perfectly dressed naval uniform.
One pleasant thing was that Hardius, in his officer's uniform, did not make her heart flutter or flutter as much as before. Emilia opened her mouth deliberately, wanting to let him know that fact.
“Did you have a formal dinner? Or did you go to school?”
“I have come back from meeting Her Majesty the Queen.”
For a moment, her body tensed up. He had dressed up in my formal attire and went to see the Queen. Then, seeing him come here so suddenly, she wondered if...
“Surely not, a breakup...”
"Not yet."
As soon as he gave his cut answer, a puff of white breath burst into the air.
Emilia stared at the debris disappearing into the rain. She suddenly felt tired and empty.
“Well, whether we break off the engagement or not, it doesn’t matter to you anymore, my lord.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter.”
Her chest felt tight again. Her eyes, which had been blinking at the empty space, turned back to her feet, which were becoming damp.
The sound of rain began to cover everything. The gun in her hand felt infinitely fleeting and childish.
It's no use fighting. That guy won't stop.
Hardius Meyer is no different from Dram. He's turning her into a useless puppet.
Something twisted and twisted was stimulating Emilia's heart.
Instead of pointing a gun at him, Emilia took a different approach.
“Please, I beg you.”
As soon as she whispered weakly, she fell to her knees with a thud. His shiny leather shoes stopped for a moment.
“I beg you like this.”
It was a voice that contained all the bitter frustration of the past few days.
It was her first time kneeling before a person, but a sense of desperation beyond misery was suffocating her.
“Please stop.”
She thought Hardius would be surprised. Or angry.
But even after doing all this, his body doesn't even turn completely towards Emilia.
“The young master laughed, but I always thought there was some kind of loyalty between us.”
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her temples.
Emilia took a deep breath and continued speaking with difficulty.
“...I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any fondness for you, Master. I also remember ‘Elver’ fondly.”
The more she spoke, the more Emilia felt a hollowness in her chest.
“But that’s all. Just because I forgave you for the past five years and felt good about you, I have no intention of continuing our relationship. I’ll say it again, don’t take away my last bit of loyalty to you. Please.”
“...Yes, stand up.”
Instead of raising her body, Emilia buried her head in the floor.
“There is a depth to the feeling of ‘liking’. Just because you had a fleeting crush on Elver, it can’t be a truly deep feeling. It’s as shallow and light as this rainwater that disappears in an instant. That kind of feeling is impulsive and fickle, so it disappears quickly. All that’s left is regret.”
"Stop."
The dark, hushed voice was hard to hear. Emilia continued speaking with difficulty, feeling as if she was struggling in front of a whirlpool.
“I really want to be free now. This has nothing to do with feelings. For the past five years, I’ve felt like I’ve been caught in a trap. I really hate it. Really, really.”
Emilia spoke each word forcefully, as if she were vomiting blood.
“I think I’m going crazy because of you, Master. I’m so sick of it, I could die.”
The hand that had been hidden under her shawl suddenly lost its strength. Emilia placed the pistol down in front of him.
“Please take it. This is just as creepy as you are now, Master. If you don’t take it, I have no choice but to throw it away, but you know I’m not cruel. So I have no choice but to do this.”
The raindrops that had poured in tapped the cold metal.
“Please, let me remember you as a good person. I beg you.”
How much time had passed? The man's long fingers picked up the rain-soaked gun.
The eerie air of dawn hovers between them.
“What on earth are we doing? I really don’t know where it all went wrong... I... never imagined that my relationship with you would turn out like this. I thought we would break off the engagement by now and live happily ever after. You... before you forced yourself into an engagement with me, there was someone you had already promised to marry. Think about that person.”
Emilia mustered up her courage and looked up at Hardius.
She thought he would be a little shaken since she got down on her knees and begged him. Wasn't he the man who pushed Charlotte's swing?
But Hardy Meyer remains cold and frighteningly unmoved.
“Are you done talking?”
That voice, without any high or low tones or rhythm, was eerie.
“I told you I’d give you a week. And now you have two days left.”
Hardius turned around. He disappeared into the dim light of the carriage that was flashing through the dark forest.
***
The heavy rain hit his body hard. However, Hardius walked slowly without feeling a thing.
'What on earth are we doing?'
A cold voice echoed fiercely.
It was a valid question, so he had to answer it.
Above all, isn't this a question that Hardius himself has asked himself countless times?
What am I doing now?
The problem is that the answer to that question is both clear and ambiguous.
It was a realm of emotions, not reason and logic, and Meyer does not give names to emotions. Have you ever tracked and extracted emotions to your advantage in your life?
“Huh? Your Excellency!”
The coachman came running towards Hardius, who was walking in the rain, holding a lamp and an umbrella. The coachman was startled when the swaying light illuminated the pistol hanging precariously in his master's hand.
Hardius also glanced down at the damp pistol.
Yeah, maybe it's because of this damn gun.
After he couldn't resist the impulse and handed the gun to Emilia, all the weak emotions from his childhood came back to him and grabbed his heart with a frightening grip.
Ever since he learned of the existence of the secret meeting, Hardius has been constantly in fear. He was afraid that his fiancée would be murdered.
All sorts of extreme scenes flashed before his eyes, from William Richard personally going to her and brutally murdering her, to the assassin setting fire to her house or poisoning her food.
At the end of his extreme imagination, Hardius always took out the gun from the drawer. He wanted to find the girl, reveal the truth, give her the gun, and tell her to run away.
It was a foolish idea, but it was better than doing nothing.
He's going to ride a horse secretly at dawn.
But what about the guards sleeping right next to him?
There was also a way to deliver the letter secretly. Or, he could create a trustworthy person to deliver it.
It wasn't easy. At the time, his world was tightly sealed off by high walls on all sides.
The Watchers were everywhere, always. Every moment, every breath.
There was only one chance. There was only one banquet.
Hardius meticulously planned out a situation where the two of them could be alone. The route of the servants, the movement during the banquet, and even the layout.
And on the day of the banquet, he finally came face to face with his fiancée, who was wandering around the garden, avoiding people.
The girl was watching a squirrel in a tree.
Hardius strode forward. The time given was less than a minute. In that short time, he had to hand over the gun and money and tell her to run away.
He was confident. It was a moment he had been preparing for for months.
But after walking only a few steps, Hardius stopped dead in his tracks.
The child, who had been desperately waiting for the squirrel to look at her with a cookie crumb in her hand, suddenly lost his mind.
Even if he were to give you a few pennies and a pistol and tell you to run away, would that be possible?
Emilia Bern is not a single person. As far as he knows, she has a stepmother, a younger sibling, and a younger sister who is blind.
Above all, the moment she learn the truth, she will be plagued by the fear of death every day. Hardius knew better than anyone how much that would make life a living hell.
A life of being chased by a great power, a life of running away, can you endure it?
The truth doesn't solve everything. Maybe it's safer and better to live without knowing. The mother and other powers have already lost interest in the child.
Hardius steeled himself and gave up on his plan. He thought it was a wise decision.
But just before hr turned around, when his eyes met with the child who had given up on the squirrel, he realized.
For fuck's sake, don't make excuses.
It's not that he didn't tell her the truth; it's that he didn't tell her on purpose. He hated it. The fact that he would never see her again.
He wanted to run away, but he was afraid that she would run away.
He was afraid that she would disappear forever, even though he hoped that she would disappear forever, to a place where she would never be found.
No woman could ever accept this vile and murky world, surrounded by those who seek to kill her.
Also, she will never forgive that vile man who knew all the facts but hid them.
So he didn't tell her. For extremely selfish reasons. And even after several years, it was still the same.
'I think I'm going crazy because of you, Master. I'm so sick of you, I think I'm going to die.'
The woman who had been begging on her knees was twisting his chest.
You only plan to abandon me in some way. You reject anything I give you and deny anything I say.
What a fucking woman.
How have I lived? What have I done to protect just you?
He doesn't want to make any more useless efforts.
What's the point of waiting around like a retard? Their relationship was doomed from the start anyway. It's been a long time since the means and methods stopped being an issue.
Whether she hates me or not, whether she's had sex with other guys or not, whether I'm a good guy or a bad guy...
I'd gladly throw away my damn conscience.
I'll just have it. Now.
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