Chapter 55
The palace physician carefully tended to Clyde’s wound, rewrapping it with fresh bandages under Edith’s watchful gaze. With sharp eyes, the physician explained Clyde’s current condition to him.
“It’s healing smoothly. Fortunately, the luck cycle arrived soon after the injury, allowing for significant progress. The energy from the luck cycle also helps activate the body.”
“That’s good to hear. Edith’s been so overprotective, I’ve been stuck pretending to be an invalid for too long.”
Clyde’s confident glance toward Edith made her smile slightly in amusement. Just a moment ago, he was grateful for her concern, and now, suddenly, he was annoyed by it.
“From now on, we’ll only wrap it lightly.”
“Go ahead.”
“But even though it feels nearly healed, you must not overexert yourself. If the wound reopens, it’ll cause more trouble.”
Once Clyde’s treatment was complete, the physician turned to Edith for a more thorough examination. This time, the use of pheromone detection tools made the inspection meticulous and detailed. The atmosphere was far more serious compared to Clyde’s straightforward check-up.
“Ketsumoris, you seem to have no changes at all.”
“It’s always the same.”
“This cannot go on. If something goes wrong, you might slip into a coma. Be careful.”
“Well, what do I do? What should I focus on?”
“Your body desperately needs an alpha. His Majesty has offered to assist with alpha pheromones, but if that feels uncomfortable, you should seek a trustworthy alpha in your surroundings.”
Edith hesitated.
“That’s…
”
“You must seriously consider it. If His Majesty feels burdensome, finding a reliable alpha is the alternative.”
The physician hastily packed his things as Clyde shot him a sharp glare. Edith also couldn’t ignore her own condition.
Omega pheromones, when accumulated, could act like a dam. If the limit is breached, it would devastate the body. There were risks associated with carelessly releasing pheromones. Even with vigilant protection, unexpected accidents could still occur. With the physician mentioning the possibility of slipping into a coma, the likelihood of losing control or fainting was increasingly probable.
It seemed necessary to prepare for when the omega condition would manifest, as continuing without a plan was dangerous. Clyde seemed to share the same thought, as after the physician left, he began pacing in front of her, trying to convince her further.
“Edith, did you hear? At this point, your condition is more concerning than my arm.”
However, accepting his alpha pheromones wasn’t something she could do so easily.
Instead, she shifted the topic back to the report she had given him during the tournament preparations.
“Honestly, I’ll manage my pheromones on my own. I have more pressing matters to focus on.”
“Edith, you said you’d take care of it, but you didn’t do anything.”
“Did you even read the report about the illegal slave issue?”
“I glanced through it, but…”
“What do you think? Doesn’t it need serious attention?”
Clyde stared at her silently for a moment before suddenly breaking into a broad, amused grin.
“This… you’re definitely assigning me work right now, aren’t you?”
“Come on, that’s just a misunderstanding.”
Claud raised an eyebrow, watching Edith intently as she tried to maintain a composed demeanor despite the tension in the room. His smile remained playful, yet his expression hinted at curiosity beneath the surface.
“Really, Edith? Leaving your position as my attendant? Why the sudden change?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.” She paused, searching for the right words.
“I can’t keep doing this. Staying by your side is… distracting. It’s not what I want for my future.”
Claud tilted his head, his smile slowly fading into seriousness.
“Distracting? How so?”
“I care about you,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“And it’s not just my feelings—it’s everything. My responsibilities, my goals… they’ve been slipping away because of this.”
Claud remained silent for a moment, absorbing her words. Then, his gaze softened, but there was a lingering sadness in his eyes.
“I see,” he said quietly. “You think stepping away will solve everything?”
“I don’t know if it’ll solve everything,” she replied honestly, “but it’s the only way I can regain clarity. If I stay… I’ll lose sight of who I am.”
The room became heavy with silence once more. The gentle hum of the palace faded into the background, leaving only the sound of their breathing.
Finally, Claud broke the silence, his voice a low murmur.
“You’re right, Edith. You need to focus on your own future. But… don’t forget who you are. No matter where life takes you, that won’t change.”
Edith’s eyes were fixed on the distant horizon, her thoughts swirling as his words echoed. She felt the weight of the moment, but a flicker of resolve flickered deep within her.
“Thank you,” she said softly, though the heaviness of the conversation still lingered in the air.
Claud stepped back slightly, the playful mask returning to his features, though his eyes held a certain sadness.
“You’re always welcome here, Edith. But if this is truly what you’ve decided…”
“Yes,” she nodded firmly.
“This is what I need to do.”
He sighed quietly, stepping back fully.
“Then, take care of yourself.”
“You too,” she whispered, the weight of their conversation hanging between them as she turned away.
Claud stood there silently, his playful demeanor fading as the weight of her words sank in. He watched her intently, the room now quiet except for the faint sounds of distant chatter from the palace halls.
“I see,” he finally said, his voice calm yet somber.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”
Edith didn’t answer immediately. She simply kept her gaze fixed on the window, her fingers fidgeting slightly at her side. The air between them felt heavy, tense.
Claud stepped closer, his tone softer.
“Do you really think walking away is the answer? After all this time, after everything we’ve been through?”
Edith remained silent, her breath steady but her heart racing. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she also couldn’t keep going like this. The boundaries had blurred, and she feared the consequences of her own feelings.
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair again.
“I won’t try to talk you out of it,” he said quietly.
“You’ve made up your mind.”
“I have,” she finally spoke, her voice firm but not unkind. “It’s time.”
Claud nodded slowly, his expression reflecting a mix of understanding and sadness.
“Alright, then. But… know that you’ll always have a place here, Edith. No matter where life takes you.”
A lump formed in her throat as she turned back to face him. “Thank you, Claud.”
“And if you ever need anything…” he began, his voice soft yet resolute. “I’ll be here.”
Edith gave a faint smile, though her heart ached with the weight of the moment.
“I know,” she whispered.
The room was eerily silent, as if no one else existed. Even the faintest sound of breathing seemed to fade into the empty space, creating an overwhelming sensation of solitude.
Despite knowing Claud stood just behind her, the oppressive silence engulfed her, making her feel isolated within her own thoughts. She couldn’t bring herself to look back, terrified of the expression and reaction that awaited her.
Outside the window, young leaves fluttered gently from a nearby tree, carried by the wind before scattering across the distant grass. She found herself watching the mundane scene intently, as if it offered some solace, but she couldn’t bear to face Claud who stood within arm’s reach.
The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. She felt compelled to fill it with words.
“Thank you for everything,” she began quietly.
“I never truly had aspirations for the political realm. Somehow, I ended up handling important matters, but I think it’s best to step away now…”
Before she could finish, Claud’s voice cut through the air sharply, his tone firm and unwavering.
“Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that.”
His words sliced through the confession, leaving no room for argument. Without pause, his footsteps echoed sharply against the stone floor as he strode toward the exit with a determined pace, his anger evident in each deliberate step.
In mere moments, he was gone, leaving behind an empty space where his presence once loomed. It was as if he had never been there at all.
—
The final meeting of influential nobles ahead of the tournament was held in a grand hall, the air filled with tension and high stakes. Among the attendees were the likes of Peyton, Victor Count, and Ditrian Count, gathered around an opulent table that reflected their power and influence.
“Everything has been prepared thoroughly, I assume?” Victor Count’s voice rang out, already deep into his second glass of whiskey, his cheeks flushed with the alcohol. Peyton responded politely, but confidently.
“Of course. With everyone’s efforts, success is guaranteed.”
Victor chuckled, waving his glass lightly.
“Your effort is commendable, but my single representative managed to reach the finals. That’s hardly comparable to the five finalists supported by Duke Graves.”
Peyton waved his comment off smoothly, speaking instead of the collaboration that made such successes possible.
“Even without single-handed achievements, we’ve ensured that several houses have made it to the final stage. The collective effort matters most.”
The discussion turned toward the inevitable power struggle between the nobility and the crown. Each house had vested interests, and alliances had been formed to protect them. Trust in human character was scarce, but trust in wealth was abundant, bringing them all to this table.
“Ditrian Count,” Peyton said, turning to the esteemed noble, “Have you witnessed the sheer number of foreign guests at the arena?”
Ditrian gave a knowing nod. “Yes, I’ve seen them at the preliminaries. The crown’s attempt to bolster the empire’s reputation through this tournament seems thorough. They’ve invited as many guests as possible.”
“The finals will be unrestricted for general spectators, too,” Ditrian continued. “The arena will be packed.”
Peyton mentally prepared for the upcoming event, fully confident in the success of their meticulously planned scheme. Meanwhile, Ditrian smiled slyly, exchanging taunts with Victor about the crown’s failure and mismanagement, raising the spirits of those around him.
As they reveled in their strategy, Peyton’s attention shifted to the final piece: Edith.
“The last remaining contestant is Edith, isn’t she?” he mused aloud.
