Although strictly against military law, drugs were tacitly allowed in wartime situations.
However, in the current post-war situation, drug use was a serious crime that couldn’t be overlooked lightly.
‘Even if it’s His Grace the Grand Duke himself…’
As soon as he entered the tent with a disbelieving heart, his face was colored with shock. The scene before his eyes was nothing short of a hellscape where only an addict would live.
Not to mention the intense opium scent that made his head spin, the liquor bottles strewn carelessly on the floor had cigar butts stuck in them instead of corks.
In the tent that resembled a garbage dump, the only thing intact was the man standing in front of the mirror, properly dressed in his uniform.
For someone who had smoked enough cigars and opium to reduce the tent to this state, he looked no different than usual.
There was no trembling in the hands adjusting his attire, and not a trace of pleasure remained in the dull purple eyes staring into the mirror.
Only the red tinge around his eyes indicated that he was the culprit behind all this chaos.
“Your Grace. What if someone were to see this scene…”
“If anyone sees, they’ll just have to die.”
Count Monches’ brow furrowed deeper at the attitude of observing this as if it were someone else’s affair.
Feeling that any further words would be a waste of energy, the Count heaved a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart instead of a long lecture. The Grand Duke slightly furrowed his brow.
“You’ll make the ground cave in.”
“I’d be truly grateful if you didn’t give me reason to sigh so deeply.”
A handsome lip curled up at the subtly reproachful words.
“What brings you here?”
“I came to report. We’ve collected almost all the recoverable bodies, and we should be able to depart by next week at the latest.”
“Good work.”
The voice that flowed out was extremely monotonous. His long fingers began to fasten the last button of his uniform.
“Make sure to properly record those we couldn’t recover and inform their families.”
“Yes. By the way, have you decided which route to take back?”
“Didn’t you hear from Gaius?”
The Grand Duke turned his head slightly to look at the Count.
“According to the scouts, there are hardly any cities left intact in this area. We’ll either have to cross the Celtic Mountains or…”
He paused for a moment, then muttered as if exhaling a sigh.
“We’ll have to go through Lopwell.”
He seemed somewhat displeased, but the Count, unaware of his inner thoughts, assumed the Grand Duke’s unsatisfactory attitude was simply due to Lopwell’s poor environment.
It wasn’t an incomprehensible reaction. Not just the Grand Duke, but anyone familiar with Lopwell’s notoriety would be reluctant to go there.
All sorts of evil practices ran rampant in this isolated land in the middle of a desolate territory. Perhaps it was an inevitable result of forcibly cramming people into a land uninhabitable for humans.
Ironically, this worst environment had managed to protect itself in this war. The land that no one coveted had now become the only place untouched by the aftermath of the war.
The Count nodded as if understanding completely.
“Although it’s not a good environment, it seems to be the best option for now. We can’t cross treacherous mountains with the wounded, after all.”
Despite his confident attitude, his counterpart made no reply. To this, the Count added a few more words.
“It might even be a fortunate turn of events. No matter how poor the conditions, since there’s a monastery, there should be at least one or two healers remaining…”
“We’ll see if it’s fortunate when we get there.”
At the cold voice, Count Monches looked at him with a questioning face. The Grand Duke, with an expressionless face, fiddled with his cufflinks as he spoke.
“That place is not somewhere to stay long. As soon as the treatment of the wounded is over, we’ll head straight for the capital, so keep that in mind.”
“Yes…”
The trailing response contained a subtle uneasiness.
‘Why does he speak as if he’s been there before?’
Rio Monches had grown up with the man before him since the time he was just a young master of the Grand Duke’s family, before being called the hero of the great empire.
This was true even during the time when the noble young master lost his parents overnight, became an orphan, and wandered from one battlefield to another.
But according to his memory, the Grand Duke had never set foot in the land called Lopwell.
Of course, it could be that he himself didn’t remember correctly, but he wasn’t the type to forget visiting a place of such ill repute.
Even after leaving the tent, the unclear feeling remained lingering uncomfortably at the edge of his mind.
‘Did I hear wrong….’
It might be because he had spent time looking at mangled corpses day and night. Even if one was used to corpses, it was no less mentally exhausting.
The Count dismissed the uneasy feeling as overly sensitive nerves, not thinking much of it.
****
The hand endlessly fiddling with the cuff was moving almost unconsciously. The man staring intently at the mirror seemed to have no intention of properly buttoning it.
The gaze looking at his own reflection in the mirror was intensely cold.
He had lost consciousness with the deafening sound of gunfire, only to wake up like this. The white hair had returned to its original color, and the harsh lines etched on his face had cleanly disappeared.
He touched the temple where he had once shot himself, but no trace remained.
Now, after everything, he couldn’t even succeed in dying – what a pathetic life. That’s what he thought, but…
With a snap, the cuff tore. Only then did his gaze turn to the end of his sleeve. His consistently expressionless face gradually contorted.
“Damn it…”
He had never wished for this.
He had sincerely welcomed the idea that he could end his life. The world was sickening, and after the child died, even breathing was painful.
But God mocked him blatantly.
Declan dropped his hand from his sleeve with a deep sigh.
In the end, everything was back to square one. He had returned alone again, and even the ill-fated connections he had desperately clung to were now gone.
‘Perhaps it’s for the best.’
Even if it would be a repetition of meaningless time for him, it was certainly for the best for her in this life. His wife had always regretted marrying him.
Declan clutched the torn button as if to crush it.
Lopwell, where the healers stayed, was most suitable for the soldiers to recover from their injuries, and once there, encountering her would be unavoidable. But he had no other choice.
What did she look like in this era? Try as he might to recall, for some reason he could only picture her lying in bed, thin as a rail. In his memories, she was always crying.
After the removal of her ruined uterus, his wife suffered severe aftereffects. In terrible pain, she couldn’t sleep properly without painkillers and even found it difficult to walk in the mansion’s garden.
Even warm sunlight was poison to her. Even in midsummer, she feared leaving the thick blanket.
[You made me like this.]
And in front of her, crying in pain every day, Declan couldn’t say anything. Because that statement was an undeniable fact.
The child that was born dead was a boy. If he had been born alive, he would have become the heir to succeed him.
Abandoning the child was ultimately a choice made to save her, so he had no regrets. But considering that Sienna lived a life worse than death after that day, there was no way to justify his choice.
Women dying in childbirth were common, but they earned people’s sympathy. However, a woman indicted for killing her own child was trampled on by people even after death.
So if he had chosen to save the child, Sienna could have at least met an honorable death. Even in death, she would have left behind a noble name as the wife of the Grand Duke, the mother of the future Grand Duke, rather than a heartless murderer.
Eventually, a report came from outside the tent that all preparations for heading to Lopwell were complete.
Declan’s gaze, which had been glaring at the mirror, turned outward. As he realized once again where he was standing, the heat gradually faded from his eyes.
“…But there’s no need for that now.”
Declan muttered to himself.
As long as they stay in Lopwell, there’s no way to avoid her. But he should be able to prevent the relationship from developing beyond a chance encounter.
Everything had returned to square one, so what he had to do was already decided.
****
In contrast to the rare bustle in the monastery due to the army’s visit, Theodore Monches found himself in an untimely predicament from the morning.
With the arrival of the army that had achieved great merit at the place where the Imperial Princess was staying, it was natural etiquette for her to come out in person to greet them.
It was the greatest duty of the royal family to express gratitude on behalf of the imperial people to those who had brought glory to the empire.
No matter how much she had been driven to the borderlands, Sienna was still a daughter of the Maloney Imperial Family, and the other party was the Grand Duke of Monferrato, who received the respect and affection of the imperial people.
The moment word spread outside Lopwell that the princess had needlessly disrespected the Grand Duke, the already unfavorable reputation of the princess might plummet to the worst.
However, even in this situation, the princess had been making excuses about feeling unwell since morning, locking her door and not letting anyone in.
He had even brought a priest well-versed in healing arts just in case, but now even the priest had ended up standing awkwardly in front of the door with him.
