Chapter 11
He thought he no longer had the right to miss Estelle.
No matter how much his memories were lost and the feelings of love erased, he should have treated her warmly.
She, who had become his wife, was someone he should have taken responsibility for and protected for life. He regretted avoiding her just because it felt uncomfortable.
And yet, he had made her pregnant. Furthermore, he had caused her to lose the child before it was even born, plunging her into hell.
The scene was still vividly imprinted in his mind.
‘The baby died? That can’t be true. It was moving just yesterday. It was definitely alive, it responded more energetically when I called…’
‘…’
‘I can still hear it crying. It can’t be dead… Is it hiding because it’s shy? Maybe it will move again if I call. Baby, mommy’s here. Mommy’s here, please…’
The scene of Estelle clutching her belly and crying out for a baby that no longer existed.
What tormented Estelle even more was the doctor’s diagnosis, stating that her uterus had become too weak from the miscarriage, and that she would not be able to conceive again.
Even if by some miracle she were to have another child, the doctor warned that it would not survive to full term, and Estelle cried for a long time.
She repeatedly collapsed in exhaustion, and while holding the shoes she had made herself, she spoke.
She wanted to name the baby Ruell if it was a boy, after him, and if it was a girl, Vivian, a name that sounded sweet.
She planned to raise the child by giving the love she had never received.
She wanted to tell the baby that she loved them thousands of times a day and hoped they would grow up to be a child who could always act spoiled.
She spoke of her wish to raise the child with her own hands, without hiring a nanny.
He couldn’t even say he was sorry for making her lose the baby, let alone cry with her.
He pretended to be strong for Estelle, who would wander around at night, still believing the baby was alive.
It was his fragile pride that didn’t want to show weakness in front of her.
He should have comforted her, saying the baby was in a better place while holding her.
‘Michael. Even if you don’t love me anymore, that child was also yours. You should have been able to shed at least one tear. Even if you didn’t feel sadness, you should have pretended to mourn.’
‘Estelle, I—’
‘Don’t call me. Live your life like that. I don’t think I could live by your side. Even if you forgot me, even if you lost your feelings… I thought I could endure it, but I can’t anymore.’
If he had done that, Estelle might not have misunderstood and slit her throat in despair.
The moment passed, and Estelle’s illusion quickly vanished.
Then he realized. She couldn’t even allow herself to be seen as an illusion, because she no longer had the strength to stay by his side, and because she resented him so much.
He impulsively went up to Estelle’s room, wanting to touch her traces.
He also wanted to tell her about the fate of Leonov and Melody, the main culprits who had caused her death.
No matter how many times he told them, the dead could no longer hear, but still, he wished for them to hear.
He wanted to tell her that if the wind she had felt once in her life, after her death, was a sigh of regret that could not rest in peace, then he had resolved all the injustices. He wanted to tell her to let go of all her sorrows and escape this horrifying place.
The doorknob was covered in dust, as if the room had not been cleaned for a long time.
He brushed the dust off and went inside, shocked to find that no light entered the room.
When he had asked her how she had lived in the Winchester Duke’s mansion, she had answered that she lived in a warm, sunny place.
A room filled with luxurious furniture and expensive ornaments.
He didn’t ask why someone with such tastes had worn only dark dresses and decorated modestly after marrying him.
He just believed the explanation that she had changed as she grew older and didn’t question it further.
He didn’t even realize that it was a lie to hide the fact that she had lived in squalor, and he had deluded himself into thinking that she had been treated well even though she hadn’t received love.
How had she lived here?
He suddenly remembered when Estelle had casually mentioned that she had left her diary in the desk drawer in this room.
She had the habit of writing about her day before going to sleep, and he was sure that her life would be written in that diary.
In the first life, she had even gone back to get the diary she had left in the Winchester Duke’s mansion. It was something she had cherished that much.
He was certain that everything about her would be in it.
Then, he recalled how Estelle had forbidden him from reading her diary and let out a weak laugh. He had been caught trying to sneak a read, and it was the first time she had ever gotten angry with him.
Now, perhaps because there was no one to scold him for reading it, Michael opened the diary without hesitation.
In fact, he had hesitated to read it, thinking that she might come back and scold him. He slowly began reading.
But dead people never come back.
The diary contained stories of Estelle’s childhood that she had never told him.
He had known that she hadn’t been loved during her early years because she was born after the death of the wife of the Duke of Winchester.
What he hadn’t realized was how much more she had suffered beyond what he had imagined.
The wounds he had inflicted on Estelle in the first life resurfaced, and he felt deeply sorry.
He realized that the wishes she had voiced to him were actually things she had wanted to receive for herself.
Tears, which had not been released for so long, flowed out uncontrollably.
Eventually, he found himself crying out loud.
He felt guilty and sorrowful.
He regretted not realizing it sooner, leaving her lonely.
Now, he didn’t have to meet her in secret anymore, but Estelle was no longer there.
When he realized that, the tears he had been holding back began to fall freely, soaking the diary.
Even though it was a diary containing all the pain she had endured in her life, it was still an item that had Estelle’s touch on it. He didn’t want to damage it.
Wiping his tears away, he hugged the diary close to his chest and returned to the palace.
He captured the people of the Winchester Duke’s family and read out Melody’s charges, executing her.
He heard that the Duke of Winchester, filled with regret, had hung himself.
He also learned that her older brother, the young duke, had refused to inherit the title, and her second brother, had secluded himself in his mansion.
After that, everything felt empty. A deep sense of void filled him.
He no longer felt the need to live now that there was nothing more he could do for her.
When Estelle was alive, he lived for her; after her death, he had continued living only for revenge.
“I wish for His Majesty to become a great emperor. I have lived to make that happen, and I am guarding Aslan for that reason.”
“The Empress will have your head if she hears that. There is the Crown Prince to succeed the throne.”
“If Your Majesty becomes Emperor, then my life is worth nothing. I would gladly give my head for that.”
“You won’t be able to become the great emperor worthy of such a sacrifice.”
Looking back, he realized he hadn’t been a great emperor.
He had become emperor only for Estelle, neglecting state affairs.
He had no interest in whether the country fell or how the empire’s people lived.
For him, the throne was merely a means to kill Leonov and Melody.
Once he had avenged Estelle, the position of emperor had become nothing more than a burden.
As expected, his reign didn’t last long.
As he purged the nobles who sought to become the maternal family of the next emperor by presenting their daughters to him in the middle of the night, a rebellion broke out.
Though he could have easily fled, Michael remained quietly in his bedroom, waiting for the rebels. He felt no regret in ending a life without Estelle.
Those with divine power were not allowed to die on their own, so he was almost glad to have an opportunity to rest in peace.
He was soon stabbed by the rebels, and with a brief pain, his life came to an end.
Finally, it was over, he thought.
But when he regained consciousness, Michael found himself back in the past.
Even more surprising, it was when Estelle was still alive.
He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t reversed time, so what had happened?
He quickly accepted it.
Estelle was alive.
That was enough.
But Estelle had already met Leonov at the debutante ball.
Though they hadn’t officially held their engagement ceremony, she had been appointed as the future Empress.
Still, there was hope. There were three years left before her death.
He vowed to save Estelle this time.
“What are you thinking so deeply that you can’t hear me calling, Your Majesty?”
“…If there’s nothing else to say, then you may go. I have a lot to do.”
“Your Majesty!”
Knock knock.
“It’s Olivia. May I come in?”
“Olivia? Come in.”
With a polite knock, Olivia Aslan entered and bowed.
“It seems the Crown Prince is here too. Perfect timing, I have something to report.”
“What’s this?”
From the letter Olivia handed him, a scent of lilies lingered.
“Princess Estelle Winchester has sent a reply, Your Majesty. She says she will attend the masquerade ball.”
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