Chapter 103
Yulia, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke right after turning her back again to gaze out the window.
“Do I even deserve to worry about him?”
Her voice was lifeless. Her lowered eyes couldn’t meet anything directly.
Her deep blue eyes were silent, but heavy worries gathered deep inside her pupils.
For the past two months, Yulia had lived as if each day was a year.
At first, she couldn’t bear the situation. She worried about Fernan and blamed herself for putting him in danger.
Fernan had said that even if it hadn’t been her, he would have come into conflict with the Emperor eventually.
The long-standing feud between the royal family and Fernan had already grown too deep to be fixed without one side falling.
Still, Yulia couldn’t help but blame herself.
It was because of the last image of Fernan burned into her mind that refused to fade.
His imposing back, as always, pulling out his sword.
His calm voice telling her to be happy—that it was happiness even for her.
“……”
Yulia clenched her hands tightly and held her breath. Every time she recalled the last time she saw him, breathing became difficult.
Meanwhile, Cedric moved closer to her.
“There’s no need to hide it — your feelings, your thoughts.”
Cedric whispered and reached out to her, but hesitated and withdrew his hand.
He knew well that Fernan would never easily disappear from within her.
Before she lost her memory, after she lost it, and even now.
At the center of all the complicated times she had endured, that man was always there.
Whether for better or worse, her feelings toward Fernan always seemed heavy.
The guilt and pity she now felt would not vanish soon.
But Cedric believed those feelings did not stem from love.
After time passed and the empire stabilized, when news of Fernan’s safety reached them… she would surely return to herself.
So Cedric decided to wait.
Until Fernan ended everything. Until Yulia could lay down all her guilt and find peace.
The end of autumn gave way to winter.
The unusually harsh winter soon disappeared.
When spring finally came, Yulia received the long-awaited news.
The empire’s civil war, which had lasted six months, was nearing its end.
“[…After continued conflict, the Duke has finally won.]”
Yulia, who read the same passage many times yet couldn’t relax, suddenly looked up at a sharp voice.
“Yulia! What are you doing?”
A small girl ran toward her table.
It was Rosemary, who had been living with her for several months.
“I want to read it too!”
As Rosemary was lifted into her arms, Yulia’s serious expression gradually softened.
Having read the news many times before, Yulia gladly handed the newspaper to the girl.
“Here you go.”
Rosemary took the paper with bright, curious eyes.
Sitting opposite her, the small hands carefully traced the letters as Rosemary read aloud one word at a time.
The child’s voice briefly filled the parlor.
After hearing the news again in the girl’s voice, Yulia slowly began to release the tension weighing on her heart.
Fernan had finally ended the long war.
The newspaper headline declared that he had completely driven out the Emperor’s forces.
It said that the corrupt royal faction and pro-Emperor nobles were opposed by the Geranian Kingdom and noble vassals who had joined Fernan.
It had been six months. In less than a year, the Emperor’s forces were utterly purged.
But for those who had long awaited this news, the time must have been painfully long and difficult.
The Helinde family, a collateral branch of the royal line, was selected as the next in line for the throne.
They had played the greatest role in this civil war.
Due to the sudden change of power, the empire was expected to undergo a period of confusion.
‘…Thank goodness.’
More than anything else, Fernan’s survival comforted her.
Once a month, a courier delivered the empire’s newspapers to her.
By the time they arrived, weeks had already passed since publication.
Therefore, the current situation was likely more stable than what was written here.
Since Fernan was at the center of this civil war, he must be busier than anyone.
That was enough for Yulia.
She wished that Fernan, who had safely returned to his place, would live in an environment where he no longer felt oppressed.
She hoped he would meet someone truly suitable and helpful, and live free from threats.
Ultimately, she wished him true peace.
Yulia could be satisfied with merely hearing news of him from afar.
As she once said, and as Fernan had repeated, they would return to being strangers who never met.
Yes, that was the right answer.
Yulia gazed quietly at Rosemary sitting before her, then slowly turned her head.
Outside the window, the rising sun shone dazzlingly.
Laughter from children playing outside the mansion floated in, and the scent of desserts baked by Gabriel wafted through the door.
Everything felt like a return to the time a year ago, when she lived in the Holy Nation.
Yulia began to bury, one by one, all the heavy feelings she had carried.
Any lingering attachment or feelings toward Fernan were now something she should no longer recall.
This was her place, and the best thing.
For him, and for her.
The Emperor at the center of this event met a miserable end.
During winter, when the civil war in the capital intensified, the Emperor, held hostage, tried to escape as the situation turned against him.
Disguised by swapping clothes with a servant, he attempted to flee alone to another region, abandoning many royal followers.
Had he waited quietly, he might have received a painless execution or exile.
But because he tried to flee, knights who mistook him for a mere servant cruelly killed him.
After the Emperor returned as a pitiful corpse on his own feet, the execution date for his son, the Crown Prince, was set.
All others who posed threats to the new royal family were purged.
The Empress and Crown Princess, whose crimes could not be clearly proven, were only stripped of their titles.
This was the merciful treatment of the new Emperor Galliad Helinde, who saw no need for pointless sacrifices.
However, the Elodie Marquis family, deeply involved in the conflict, was exterminated.
Grayson Elodie, who inherited the marquis title, was found innocent and fled the empire.
But the Marchioness Elodie, like the Crown Prince, remained imprisoned in a tower awaiting execution.
“Hey! Call my daughter! The Duchess! Now!”
From the tower’s dungeon in the western palace, a voice demanding her daughter echoed continuously.
“She won’t let me die like this!”
Though she hadn’t been given food or water for three days, her voice remained loud.
But she was now emaciated, looking far from healthy.
No matter what she believed, the Marchioness was confident.
No matter how much she hated Yulia, she believed Yulia would never abandon her.
Though she had treated Yulia harshly, she had protected her for over ten years.
That naive belief was her anchor.
“Hey! Can you hear me?”
The Marchioness shouted until she collapsed from exhaustion.
Despite begging for Yulia’s presence day and night, no one listened.
Grasping the bars of her cell, she rose repeatedly without tiring.
“Bring Yulia! Or at least the Duke! Now!”
She screamed wildly until she finally collapsed an hour later.
But the officials took no action even as she fell.
She was a doomed person — whether she died from exhaustion or by the guillotine, it was inevitable.
