"I like you too, Count. I respect you as a business partner. We share the same business goals, don't we?"
Noah placed his hand on Henry's shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“How will that respect change if our interests don’t align?”
Despite the cold voice, Henry still had a smile on his face. So did the handsome man with silver-white hair.
"Usually, it would turn into courting the Princess and proposing to her. I'm confident I'll be loved by the Princess."
“Do you have two lives?”
"No. We only live once, so everyone lives only for profit. But I'm different from typical capitalists."
Henry's excited voice that followed was filled with mad joy.
"Not only did you abandon your wealth and title and go into exile for the Princess, who would become the master of the capitalist government, but you even went so far as to marry her and personally go to war. Your investment acumen is insanely irrational and fantastical."
Noah's hand gripped Henry's shoulder. He smiled, holding Henry's umbrella with his free hand.
“I’m going to go now before Diana gets any angrier, Henri.”
“It’s Henry. And give me back my umbrella.”
Henry, who had finally had his umbrella taken away by Noah, muttered as he stared at his back as he left.
“A great man, a little crazy.”
This is my impression of Noah Rotsilt.
Capitalists were incensed by the madness of Duke Noah Rotsilt, who abandoned all his rights and assets in Frogen and went into exile. They were deeply concerned about losing a vast source of income, but after reaping several times the profits from a larger war and recession, they completely changed their tune.
For now, he was just quietly watching Noah Rotsilt's movements.
Henry, one of the capitalist powers, had slightly different ideas from them.
“I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Is there an immutable value that can overcome power and capital? Could Noah Rotsilt sacrifice everything for one person? It was a curiosity.
I sipped on the rocks whiskey on the ivory table in my hotel room and opened a thick book titled “The History of Medea and the Kings.”
As I was reading about the legend of Medea, the conquering Queen, Isabella, the founder of the Medea royal family, was not recognized as legitimate because she was of lowly birth and could not use the title of Emperor, and the royal descendants insisted on marrying only Medea nobles under the pretext of purifying their blood, the doorbell rang.
The moment I saw Noah, who opened the door and slowly walked into the room, my vision blurred. He was wearing his officer's uniform and had his usual friendly smile, but he looked a mess. In short, he was a mess. I grabbed Noah's arm and examined him.
“Who did this?”
My voice cracked as I asked, almost as if I were being harassed. Even though I thought it was a ridiculous question, Noah shook his head weakly.
“It’s okay. It’s not like I lost my mind.”
He removed the blindfold that had been holding my gaze. A scar remained beneath his eyebrow, torn and sutured. His eyelids were red and swollen, and his double eyelids had disappeared. Feeling like crying, I lowered my gaze. My eyes fled, only to find his bandaged right hand. A surge of emotion, bordering on anger, welled up in me, but I forced myself to suppress it.
"You said you were placed in a safe place on the condition of divorcing me? Is this the result?"
“There is no safe place. It’s a matter of life or death.”
So why did you make that choice and get hurt like this?
I rubbed my eyes with one hand. Contrary to my vow to vent my anger and resentment when we met again, all that escaped me was a long, sobbing sigh.
He always did that. He made it impossible for me to get angry.
“...Did it hurt a lot?”
He tilted his head and nodded at my barely spit out worry.
“Yeah, I can’t see it. I know you’re mad at me.”
I cupped Noah's bruised cheeks with both hands, and he lowered his head to my level. I looked into his blue eyes, tinged with loneliness, and shook my head.
“I’m not angry.”
A faint smile appeared on Noah's face.
“Diana. It’s good to see you again.”
I let my hands drop limply and took several deep breaths. A tangled web of emotions, unknown to me, swirled around me. I wanted to sternly demand he do as I say, and I wanted to hug him and kiss him. I wanted to sob, and I wanted to laugh, glad to see him again. Only raw emotions welled up within me. I wanted to ask, "What on earth should I do?" Ultimately, I couldn't form any expression. I stared up at the high ceiling, feeling dizzy. After hearing Vincent's story, the lingering anxiety began to piece together, revealing itself in parts. My reason warned me not to be fooled by that beautiful smile, that kindness. It clearly remembered that the man was manipulating others' emotions, and it asked itself if I would be any different. I asked him.
“Noah. Do you want me to sympathize?”
"Whatever it is, I don't care. I just want you to think about me."
This situation felt somehow familiar.
Until now, I had insisted on an optimistic perspective. Like a racehorse wearing blinders, I had looked at things through a limited lens, desperately trying to block out the subtle anxieties and rational warnings I felt. It was as if the illusion, enveloped in light, was peeling away, and my rational eyes were opening. In that darkness, something became even clearer.
What if he has been using my emotions to achieve his own goals?
My nerves, once so tense, cooled to a frightening degree. Noah had never fully agreed with my desire for normalcy. Perhaps he was trying to gain my sympathy and, with his near-suicide actions, instill despair in me, thereby changing my choices. He was a man who had always burdened me with a sense of indebtedness. I began to lay out my reasons.
"Noah. Back in the Frogen mansion, when mercenaries hired by the Admiral approached me and tried to take me away and kill me. You knew that, didn't you? You wouldn't have been able to break through that tight security, and they even had a spy. And even after that..."
I feel like he already knew despair was coming, yet he allowed it to happen to me. The man of the past, driven to the brink, asked me if I needed him, and if so, if I loved him. After following the lieutenant colonel back to Belford on our engagement day, perhaps he waited for me, who had left on my own, to come get him first, for my nanny's help to prevent my death. What if his decision to abandon his wealth and power, risking his life to come to my rescue, was solely to become the person I needed?
"I'm the only one standing on the edge of a cliff and reaching out. That's what I want."
His past words weren't metaphors meant to gauge the depth of his affection, but rather intuitive expressions. I brought up the question I'd always wanted to ask.
“It wasn’t the world you were trying to change, it was me, wasn’t it?”
Noah seemed completely unfazed. It was as if everything I said felt like sophistry. He spoke, his lips slightly upturned.
“It was all your choice, wasn’t it?”
“My choice?”
"You followed me instead of your sister, you followed the mercenaries yourself, and you left me on our engagement day with the lieutenant colonel. It was all your choice to submit your drawings to the Belford newspaper."
The pity in his expression had completely vanished. He squinted his cloudy blue eyes and smiled languidly.
“Holding my hand, kissing me, getting married, and spending the night as a married couple.”
The low, low-pitched voice seemed to see right through me, poking at my very soul, so I hesitated. He stepped closer, his strides increasing as I retreated, and he added.
“It’s a choice you made because you liked me.”
The ending sank low.
Emotions are abstract. They are a function of how you think about them.
My fingertips grew cold, feeling as if I'd been lost in my own delusion. As Noah had said, most of it was a choice I made because I liked him. I bit my lip, sensing an unbearable despair. I'd reached a nightmarish conclusion based on what I'd heard from Vincent. I wanted to confirm if it was true.
“Noah, I heard that your family is the center of the thirteen families known as the Knights of the Round Table.”
The cartel of capitalists, which began long ago as the "Knights of the Round Table" and now call themselves "partners," resembled the conspiracy theories of my original world, which manipulated the flow of international affairs by working in solidarity with nations without revealing themselves.
According to Vincent, it was the Rotsilt family who first proposed the brilliant idea of an individual controlling the nation's debt and currency issuance, and who began to control the flow of the economy through central banks around the world.
“The plan to control and rule the nations using Medea, who made me Queen, as a base was all yours.”
"That's right. I think I've said it many times. But we're extremely individualistic. Under the common goal of capital, we each pursue different goals, and we only join hands with those who pursue the same interests. We become enemies or allies depending on our own practical interests."
I swallowed the resignation and emptiness that was flowing through my gaping lips.
“I will give you a beautiful, peaceful world.”
I recall the kind words he once spoke to me. Perhaps he had only spoken the truth, but I had interpreted them as I pleased, thinking only of the good. I didn't realize then that he was trying to manipulate my emotions. I didn't realize they were the devil's whispers, threatening to destroy countless lives. I let out a sigh.
"I see. The ordinary life I always dreamed of must have seemed miserable and boring to you. Because it didn't meet your purpose."
He had a dry face.
“Rather than that, I didn’t fully understand.”
"You don't have to go to war to change my mind. I have nowhere to go now, and I have no choice but to do as you wish. And divorce isn't just my choice, is it? You signed it first."
I suppressed my anger, quickly snapped, and fled, turning toward the window. Hiding my troubled expression, I quenched my parched throat with diluted whiskey. Perhaps it was the constant downing that made my stomach boil. Despite my immense resolve to share his trials and sins, why was it so pathetic that it faded so quickly? I couldn't comprehend it. What did it mean to say you liked me? There was no way a normal human could understand the thoughts of that pretty, crazy bastard. The forms of liking something are so varied.
After a long silence where the pain was silently quelled, Noah's lonely voice could be heard.
"Diana. Why do you say things like I'll never see you again?"
I frowned and turned my head to look at him.
"Do you have any more business with me? It went as you wished."
“Yeah. That’s what I want to see too.”
An unfamiliar scent drew closer. I forced myself to look away, keeping my gaze fixed outside the window. In my peripheral vision, I saw Noah, standing close beside me, with silvery hair. I felt his gaze fixed on the side of my face, and my temples tingled. My eyes burned. The deformed affection he offered only added to my confusion. I mustered all my strength to maintain a composed demeanor.
"I can't give you alimony. You signed the divorce papers first. You should sue."
“It’s okay if you don’t give it to me.”
"Then we have nothing more to say. Let's go now."
“I want to be with you more. Don’t you?”
Noah held my gaze fixed outside with a soft voice. I nodded, my face detached, having let go of all understanding.
“Yes. No.”
“You told me not to go even if you tell me to, so I won’t go.”
His fingertips lightly brushed against my tightly clenched lips, leaving no answer. I flinched and turned to face him. Noah was staring at the rose diamond necklace around my neck. It was a gift he'd given me on our engagement day, and I wear it every day except on special occasions. He asked.
“You don’t like me anymore?”
Instead, he has the pitiful face of a man who's been dumped. What on earth am I supposed to do? My thoughts and mind are becoming hazy. I let out a dejected sigh.
"I don't understand what it means to say you like me. I think you're just trying to use my feelings and manipulate me as you please. You were even kind to me."
“You were the one who tried to use me to survive from the beginning.”
“It was like that at first, but it’s different now.”
His lips were loosely curved. He tilted his head slowly, as if questioning my cold demeanor.
"Me too. I didn't care what your intentions were. Relationships are rarely sincere from the start. If the circumstances and conditions aren't met, we don't even encounter each other. Aren't feelings something that comes afterward?"
In the original, Noah and Diana never meet again. This, too, was a result of my own choice. While I was lost in thought, I heard his subdued voice.
"Diana. I love you so much, I want everything about you. I want to be the only one, to have you and me in the world. That was my true purpose, to the point where I wouldn't care what the means were. Is that wrong?"
I hastily avoided his gaze, which was looming over me. Having spent time with overly understanding people, I'd overlooked something: he was someone who interpreted most emotions through his head, a man far removed from the normal trajectory of thought. We didn't quite understand each other, but through countless conversations, we'd managed to find our own understanding and rationalizations. I'd liked him because I believed that, despite our differences, our relationship wasn't flawed. I quickly changed my mind.
Even if it was optimism born of good memories and emotions, I hoped he would understand me this time, since he had understood me so far. The conclusion was simple: I just needed to understand things from his perspective.
Noah's reason for doing this was ultimately for my own good. But I don't want that. I don't want him to risk his life. My heart aches so much, and regardless of his intentions or intentions, I'm terrified of him dying or getting hurt.
“Yes, you are very wrong. I don’t understand you.”
Noah placed his hand on Henry's shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“How will that respect change if our interests don’t align?”
Despite the cold voice, Henry still had a smile on his face. So did the handsome man with silver-white hair.
"Usually, it would turn into courting the Princess and proposing to her. I'm confident I'll be loved by the Princess."
“Do you have two lives?”
"No. We only live once, so everyone lives only for profit. But I'm different from typical capitalists."
Henry's excited voice that followed was filled with mad joy.
"Not only did you abandon your wealth and title and go into exile for the Princess, who would become the master of the capitalist government, but you even went so far as to marry her and personally go to war. Your investment acumen is insanely irrational and fantastical."
Noah's hand gripped Henry's shoulder. He smiled, holding Henry's umbrella with his free hand.
“I’m going to go now before Diana gets any angrier, Henri.”
“It’s Henry. And give me back my umbrella.”
Henry, who had finally had his umbrella taken away by Noah, muttered as he stared at his back as he left.
“A great man, a little crazy.”
This is my impression of Noah Rotsilt.
Capitalists were incensed by the madness of Duke Noah Rotsilt, who abandoned all his rights and assets in Frogen and went into exile. They were deeply concerned about losing a vast source of income, but after reaping several times the profits from a larger war and recession, they completely changed their tune.
For now, he was just quietly watching Noah Rotsilt's movements.
Henry, one of the capitalist powers, had slightly different ideas from them.
“I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Is there an immutable value that can overcome power and capital? Could Noah Rotsilt sacrifice everything for one person? It was a curiosity.
***
I sipped on the rocks whiskey on the ivory table in my hotel room and opened a thick book titled “The History of Medea and the Kings.”
As I was reading about the legend of Medea, the conquering Queen, Isabella, the founder of the Medea royal family, was not recognized as legitimate because she was of lowly birth and could not use the title of Emperor, and the royal descendants insisted on marrying only Medea nobles under the pretext of purifying their blood, the doorbell rang.
The moment I saw Noah, who opened the door and slowly walked into the room, my vision blurred. He was wearing his officer's uniform and had his usual friendly smile, but he looked a mess. In short, he was a mess. I grabbed Noah's arm and examined him.
“Who did this?”
My voice cracked as I asked, almost as if I were being harassed. Even though I thought it was a ridiculous question, Noah shook his head weakly.
“It’s okay. It’s not like I lost my mind.”
He removed the blindfold that had been holding my gaze. A scar remained beneath his eyebrow, torn and sutured. His eyelids were red and swollen, and his double eyelids had disappeared. Feeling like crying, I lowered my gaze. My eyes fled, only to find his bandaged right hand. A surge of emotion, bordering on anger, welled up in me, but I forced myself to suppress it.
"You said you were placed in a safe place on the condition of divorcing me? Is this the result?"
“There is no safe place. It’s a matter of life or death.”
So why did you make that choice and get hurt like this?
I rubbed my eyes with one hand. Contrary to my vow to vent my anger and resentment when we met again, all that escaped me was a long, sobbing sigh.
He always did that. He made it impossible for me to get angry.
“...Did it hurt a lot?”
He tilted his head and nodded at my barely spit out worry.
“Yeah, I can’t see it. I know you’re mad at me.”
I cupped Noah's bruised cheeks with both hands, and he lowered his head to my level. I looked into his blue eyes, tinged with loneliness, and shook my head.
“I’m not angry.”
A faint smile appeared on Noah's face.
“Diana. It’s good to see you again.”
I let my hands drop limply and took several deep breaths. A tangled web of emotions, unknown to me, swirled around me. I wanted to sternly demand he do as I say, and I wanted to hug him and kiss him. I wanted to sob, and I wanted to laugh, glad to see him again. Only raw emotions welled up within me. I wanted to ask, "What on earth should I do?" Ultimately, I couldn't form any expression. I stared up at the high ceiling, feeling dizzy. After hearing Vincent's story, the lingering anxiety began to piece together, revealing itself in parts. My reason warned me not to be fooled by that beautiful smile, that kindness. It clearly remembered that the man was manipulating others' emotions, and it asked itself if I would be any different. I asked him.
“Noah. Do you want me to sympathize?”
"Whatever it is, I don't care. I just want you to think about me."
This situation felt somehow familiar.
Until now, I had insisted on an optimistic perspective. Like a racehorse wearing blinders, I had looked at things through a limited lens, desperately trying to block out the subtle anxieties and rational warnings I felt. It was as if the illusion, enveloped in light, was peeling away, and my rational eyes were opening. In that darkness, something became even clearer.
What if he has been using my emotions to achieve his own goals?
My nerves, once so tense, cooled to a frightening degree. Noah had never fully agreed with my desire for normalcy. Perhaps he was trying to gain my sympathy and, with his near-suicide actions, instill despair in me, thereby changing my choices. He was a man who had always burdened me with a sense of indebtedness. I began to lay out my reasons.
"Noah. Back in the Frogen mansion, when mercenaries hired by the Admiral approached me and tried to take me away and kill me. You knew that, didn't you? You wouldn't have been able to break through that tight security, and they even had a spy. And even after that..."
I feel like he already knew despair was coming, yet he allowed it to happen to me. The man of the past, driven to the brink, asked me if I needed him, and if so, if I loved him. After following the lieutenant colonel back to Belford on our engagement day, perhaps he waited for me, who had left on my own, to come get him first, for my nanny's help to prevent my death. What if his decision to abandon his wealth and power, risking his life to come to my rescue, was solely to become the person I needed?
"I'm the only one standing on the edge of a cliff and reaching out. That's what I want."
His past words weren't metaphors meant to gauge the depth of his affection, but rather intuitive expressions. I brought up the question I'd always wanted to ask.
“It wasn’t the world you were trying to change, it was me, wasn’t it?”
Noah seemed completely unfazed. It was as if everything I said felt like sophistry. He spoke, his lips slightly upturned.
“It was all your choice, wasn’t it?”
“My choice?”
"You followed me instead of your sister, you followed the mercenaries yourself, and you left me on our engagement day with the lieutenant colonel. It was all your choice to submit your drawings to the Belford newspaper."
The pity in his expression had completely vanished. He squinted his cloudy blue eyes and smiled languidly.
“Holding my hand, kissing me, getting married, and spending the night as a married couple.”
The low, low-pitched voice seemed to see right through me, poking at my very soul, so I hesitated. He stepped closer, his strides increasing as I retreated, and he added.
“It’s a choice you made because you liked me.”
The ending sank low.
Emotions are abstract. They are a function of how you think about them.
My fingertips grew cold, feeling as if I'd been lost in my own delusion. As Noah had said, most of it was a choice I made because I liked him. I bit my lip, sensing an unbearable despair. I'd reached a nightmarish conclusion based on what I'd heard from Vincent. I wanted to confirm if it was true.
“Noah, I heard that your family is the center of the thirteen families known as the Knights of the Round Table.”
The cartel of capitalists, which began long ago as the "Knights of the Round Table" and now call themselves "partners," resembled the conspiracy theories of my original world, which manipulated the flow of international affairs by working in solidarity with nations without revealing themselves.
According to Vincent, it was the Rotsilt family who first proposed the brilliant idea of an individual controlling the nation's debt and currency issuance, and who began to control the flow of the economy through central banks around the world.
“The plan to control and rule the nations using Medea, who made me Queen, as a base was all yours.”
"That's right. I think I've said it many times. But we're extremely individualistic. Under the common goal of capital, we each pursue different goals, and we only join hands with those who pursue the same interests. We become enemies or allies depending on our own practical interests."
I swallowed the resignation and emptiness that was flowing through my gaping lips.
“I will give you a beautiful, peaceful world.”
I recall the kind words he once spoke to me. Perhaps he had only spoken the truth, but I had interpreted them as I pleased, thinking only of the good. I didn't realize then that he was trying to manipulate my emotions. I didn't realize they were the devil's whispers, threatening to destroy countless lives. I let out a sigh.
"I see. The ordinary life I always dreamed of must have seemed miserable and boring to you. Because it didn't meet your purpose."
He had a dry face.
“Rather than that, I didn’t fully understand.”
"You don't have to go to war to change my mind. I have nowhere to go now, and I have no choice but to do as you wish. And divorce isn't just my choice, is it? You signed it first."
I suppressed my anger, quickly snapped, and fled, turning toward the window. Hiding my troubled expression, I quenched my parched throat with diluted whiskey. Perhaps it was the constant downing that made my stomach boil. Despite my immense resolve to share his trials and sins, why was it so pathetic that it faded so quickly? I couldn't comprehend it. What did it mean to say you liked me? There was no way a normal human could understand the thoughts of that pretty, crazy bastard. The forms of liking something are so varied.
After a long silence where the pain was silently quelled, Noah's lonely voice could be heard.
"Diana. Why do you say things like I'll never see you again?"
I frowned and turned my head to look at him.
"Do you have any more business with me? It went as you wished."
“Yeah. That’s what I want to see too.”
An unfamiliar scent drew closer. I forced myself to look away, keeping my gaze fixed outside the window. In my peripheral vision, I saw Noah, standing close beside me, with silvery hair. I felt his gaze fixed on the side of my face, and my temples tingled. My eyes burned. The deformed affection he offered only added to my confusion. I mustered all my strength to maintain a composed demeanor.
"I can't give you alimony. You signed the divorce papers first. You should sue."
“It’s okay if you don’t give it to me.”
"Then we have nothing more to say. Let's go now."
“I want to be with you more. Don’t you?”
Noah held my gaze fixed outside with a soft voice. I nodded, my face detached, having let go of all understanding.
“Yes. No.”
“You told me not to go even if you tell me to, so I won’t go.”
His fingertips lightly brushed against my tightly clenched lips, leaving no answer. I flinched and turned to face him. Noah was staring at the rose diamond necklace around my neck. It was a gift he'd given me on our engagement day, and I wear it every day except on special occasions. He asked.
“You don’t like me anymore?”
Instead, he has the pitiful face of a man who's been dumped. What on earth am I supposed to do? My thoughts and mind are becoming hazy. I let out a dejected sigh.
"I don't understand what it means to say you like me. I think you're just trying to use my feelings and manipulate me as you please. You were even kind to me."
“You were the one who tried to use me to survive from the beginning.”
“It was like that at first, but it’s different now.”
His lips were loosely curved. He tilted his head slowly, as if questioning my cold demeanor.
"Me too. I didn't care what your intentions were. Relationships are rarely sincere from the start. If the circumstances and conditions aren't met, we don't even encounter each other. Aren't feelings something that comes afterward?"
In the original, Noah and Diana never meet again. This, too, was a result of my own choice. While I was lost in thought, I heard his subdued voice.
"Diana. I love you so much, I want everything about you. I want to be the only one, to have you and me in the world. That was my true purpose, to the point where I wouldn't care what the means were. Is that wrong?"
I hastily avoided his gaze, which was looming over me. Having spent time with overly understanding people, I'd overlooked something: he was someone who interpreted most emotions through his head, a man far removed from the normal trajectory of thought. We didn't quite understand each other, but through countless conversations, we'd managed to find our own understanding and rationalizations. I'd liked him because I believed that, despite our differences, our relationship wasn't flawed. I quickly changed my mind.
Even if it was optimism born of good memories and emotions, I hoped he would understand me this time, since he had understood me so far. The conclusion was simple: I just needed to understand things from his perspective.
Noah's reason for doing this was ultimately for my own good. But I don't want that. I don't want him to risk his life. My heart aches so much, and regardless of his intentions or intentions, I'm terrified of him dying or getting hurt.
“Yes, you are very wrong. I don’t understand you.”
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