The emperor’s actions had been within Fernan’s grasp from the start.
“Your Highness, we’ve captured all the loyalists.”
In the northern border region of the duchy, a knight approached and reported.
Fernan, who had been scanning the border defenses, finally set the documents down.
Then, with the scabbard resting on the shelf in hand, he stepped out of the barracks.
In the dim light of dusk on the wilderness outskirts, behind the barracks housing the garrison, about a dozen knights knelt, bound tightly.
All were knights under the emperor’s command.
Fernan cast an indifferent glance over their faces before giving his order.
“Kill them all.”
They were all insignificant. Useless, even if kept alive.
“Guh… ugh!”
With every swing of a sharp blade, a knight collapsed with a dying groan.
When the sword was raised over the last, trembling knight, Fernan suddenly raised a hand to stop the execution.
“Hah… hah…”
The knight, gasping for breath, looked up at him.
Fernan bent down, meeting the man’s terrified gaze.
“Tell your master this: I refuse the imperial marriage. There’s no need to continue these games.”
One needed to survive to deliver this warning to the emperor.
At Fernan’s cold command, the bound knight nodded frantically in reflex.
Satisfied, Fernan gave a brief nod, and the other knights began to clean the blood-soaked ground.
It had taken longer than expected.
By the time Fernan completed all the work at the border and returned to the villa, it was already late into the night.
On instinct, he started walking toward Julia’s bedroom but paused.
He realized he was still wearing clothes reeking of blood.
Changing course, Fernan headed for his own room and began removing his garments piece by piece.
His jacket fell to the floor with a dull thud. Just as he began unbuttoning his shirt, someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Despite his permission, the door didn’t open immediately.
By the time Fernan had finished unfastening his cuffs and completely removed his shirt, he opened the window.
Finally, the door creaked open. The sound of cautious footsteps echoed inside.
Noticing it wasn’t his lieutenant, Fernan slowly turned his head.
A slender silhouette came into view.
“Julia?”
“Ah…”
Julia’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of his bare body, and she quickly lowered her gaze.
Fernan closed the distance between them in a few strides.
“Why aren’t you asleep? Did something happen?”
At this hour, she was usually fast asleep. He had planned to visit her briefly after changing and cleaning himself up.
Julia, still looking down, replied softly.
“I had something to tell you… I waited for you to return.”
Her lowered head made it hard for him to see her face. Staring at her smooth forehead, Fernan spoke gently.
“I’ll wash up quickly. Make yourself comfortable.”
He worried that the lingering scent of blood might make her uncomfortable.
Julia gave a quiet nod, and only then did Fernan head toward the bathroom.
Once he disappeared, Julia raised her head, her gaze fixed on his broad, muscular back, scarred from old wounds.
Moments earlier, the moonlight had revealed the harsh marks etched across his body.
She had never known he carried such scars. It was the first time she had seen his body up close.
When had he received those wounds? During the war, perhaps?
Her heart began to pound, unbidden.
The flawless, invincible image she had of him was beginning to shift.
Julia stood frozen, staring at the ground, unable to sit.
After some time had passed, Fernan finally emerged from the bathroom.
“Julia.”
His low voice echoed softly. Julia, lifting her head, found his body now concealed beneath a thin shirt.
As if questioning why she was still standing, he gave her a puzzled look, then gently took her hand.
Julia allowed herself to be led to the table, where they sat facing each other.
Fernan gazed at her intently, as if waiting for her to speak. His calm expression showed no impatience.
Julia wrestled with the complicated emotions swirling within her and finally broke the silence.
“Do you… still want me by your side, Your Highness?”
She wanted to ask him one last time. Would he let her go willingly?
In truth, she hoped for a denial, believing that would make it easier for both of them to part ways.
But Fernan answered without hesitation, tearing through her hopes.
“Yes.”
“…”
“You don’t have to do anything. Just… stay by my side.”
Julia clasped her hands tightly on her lap. Hearing his answer stirred emotions she couldn’t quite name.
She felt uneasy and restless.
After taking a small breath, she looked directly at him.
“What if I want to leave?”
Her blue eyes gleamed with resolve. Fernan didn’t shy away from her gaze, his lips parting to respond.
“I’ll let you go anywhere you wish.”
He paused briefly before adding,
“But if it’s only because you can’t stand being by my side… I won’t allow it.”
Julia’s eyelids fluttered closed for a moment.
Though she had anticipated his answer, it was clear he wouldn’t release her easily.
Moistening her dry lips, she changed the subject abruptly.
“Then send me somewhere else. It feels stifling here.”
It seemed like the best option. No matter where she went, she might face difficulties, but at least it wouldn’t be in this duchy.
Her reasons for leaving had changed over time.
When she first arrived, she believed he had forced her here, and she had wanted to escape.
Later, when she realized her assumptions were wrong, she felt herself waver.
He had changed—he treated her with an unfamiliar kindness.
But now, that hesitation had entirely disappeared.
Seeing the deep scars on his back earlier, Julia had finally grasped the weight of the wars he had endured.
The victories he achieved came at the cost of those painful marks.
And those scars were likely only a fraction of the suffering he had experienced.
Now, she understood why he had once treated her harshly.
She had been among those who brought him pain—how could he have seen her kindly?
Even now, she couldn’t be sure that remaining by his side wouldn’t repeat the same cycle.
With the marquis still lingering in the background, her presence might continue to be a burden to him.
Parting ways was the best choice for both of them.
Julia, having reached a conclusion, asked him once more.
“Will you grant my request?”
Fernan’s gaze flickered briefly as if discerning her intent, but soon returned to its usual calm.
“Where would you like to go?”
Julia closed her eyes in thought, then recalled the coastal city within his territory.
It was far from the duchy, and the presence of ports might make it easier to leave for good.
“…The sea.”
“The sea?”
“Yes, I’d like to go somewhere with a view of the ocean.”
Fernan nodded without hesitation.
“There’s an estate called Seiref in the west. There’s a house by the sea.”
It was an easy approval. Julia struggled to maintain her composure as she expressed her gratitude.
“Thank you.”
With nothing more to say, she rose to leave but paused momentarily.
After a brief hesitation, she spoke again.
“When I get there… would you take a walk along the shore with me?”
Her words were meant to reassure him, but they weren’t entirely insincere.
Before leaving, she wanted to walk along the beach with him, just once. It would likely be their last moment together.
Fernan’s eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, flickered briefly.
He gazed at her pale face as if engraving the image into his memory.
A moment later, he responded.
“Of course. As much as you’d like.”
Julia finally stood up. By now, the night had deepened, and the room grew darker.
Fernan stood as well, accompanying her down the short corridor to her bedroom.
Their slow, quiet footsteps echoed through the silent hallway.
