Chapter 09
Bern’s face gave away his answer.
For a moment, Max almost lost control, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword before he restrained himself.
He glared down at Bern with icy eyes and said,
“Go home and stay there. I’ll decide your punishment after assessing the situation.”
Turning away, he tried to shake off the strange feeling in his chest.
But as he made his way back to the palace, he couldn’t stop thinking about that face—pale, frozen with rage, like a shard of ice.
For some reason, remembering that expression made him unbearably uneasy. It was odd.
Sitting in the swaying carriage, he closed his eyes and took a slow breath.
It was foolish to let emotions take over. When he opened his eyes again, his face was as cold as ever.
A few months of suspension from the Imperial Guard should be enough.
“…Armen’s lady, Carmilla, was it?”
He briefly recalled the way she had stood at the window, her chilling gaze filled with hatred toward Bern.
He considered visiting her to console her but quickly shook his head.
“It wouldn’t look good for me, as Bern’s lord, to get involved in his affairs.”
Besides, this wasn’t something he should interfere within the first place.
His mind still felt clouded, as if it hadn’t fully returned to normal.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to sort out which thoughts were rational and which were simply emotions.
But the memory of that moment kept nagging at him. It was like a pond, stirred up and muddied, refusing to settle.
Why did this bother him so much? He had no idea.
Bern was temporarily dismissed from his position and ordered to stay home as punishment for his misconduct.
Since that day, he hadn’t seen the prince or Jed. With no one to turn to for advice, he had no choice but to think for himself.
But he didn’t resent this.
He accepted his punishment without complaint—it was only fair.
The only thing that frustrated him was that he had to figure everything out on his own.
So, he spent his days swinging his sword in the training ground until his mind went blank, reading books in his room, or staring into candlelight, deep in thought.
He had always been slower and less sharp than his two closest friends.
His thoughts were scattered, lacking logic.
Sometimes, his thoughts drifted to himself. Other times, they settled on Raina, the delicate girl he always wanted to protect.
And occasionally, he thought about that day.
“You made me lower my guard, then tried to kill Raina? Is that what you call honor?”
He remembered his anger, his shouts, and then—Carmilla’s face.
“Why? Why did you do it? You said you would step back! Were you just trying to fool me? Answer me!”
He recalled the way she had staggered after he struck her, her violet eyes wide and unfocused.
And then, suddenly, her eyes snapped back into focus, filled with a fierce emotion.
Her lips, bloodied from the impact, curled into a chilling smile.
Back then, in his rage, he hadn’t realiJed what he was seeing.
But now, as he replayed the memory, he understood.
It was hatred.
Deep, seething, ice-cold hatred—so intense it burned like hellfire.
It wasn’t a fleeting rage from being struck. No, this was something darker, something that had existed long before that day.
Bern was a knight. He had killed, and he had nearly been killed.
He knew hatred. He recogniJed the murderous intent in someone’s eyes.
But Carmilla’s fury wasn’t ordinary. It was something festering, something ancient, something almost insane.
And then there was that smile—painted with blood and bitterness.
Hatred had never looked so chilling.
What disturbed him wasn’t just that she despised him.
What haunted him was the source of that hatred.
The moment their eyes met, something inside him whispered a warning.
Something was wrong.
The realization had hit him so hard it had instantly cooled his anger.
He recalled her eyes again—sharp as ice, yet wild like a cornered beast.
That day, she had spoken in a voice devoid of emotion, carefully suppressing whatever storm raged within her.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I only returned what I received.
You’re in no state to have a rational conversation, so leave.”
Cold, detached, yet full of something dangerous.
“…Hatred like that doesn’t appear without a reason.”
That kind of emotion had existed long before their encounter that day.
But when they first met, she hadn’t shown anything like that.
Something had changed.
Maybe it happened when she calmly announced the end of their engagement.
Or maybe it was when he struck her.
Could such a powerful hatred be born in a single moment?
Bern hesitated.
Had he misunderstood everything?
Had something happened that he wasn’t aware of?
“…Could it be my fault?”
Had he struck someone who was truly innocent?
Had he turned her resentment into pure hatred?
“…If that’s the case, I have to apologize, no matter what.”
But then—who was truly responsible for all of this?
Everything was a mess.
“Raina…”
He wanted to see her smile.
Just then, through the window, he saw his father dressed in full uniform, leading a group of knights out into the night.
“Father?”
Even those who usually left their swords behind carried them tonight.
“…Why is he going out like that at this hour?”
Under the glow of the torches, his father’s face looked colder than ever.
Bern hadn’t planned to be by the window—he had just been pacing in frustration.
But now, a deep sense of unease gripped his chest.
At night, with torches, fully armed knights…
And then, as if someone whispered the answer to him, the thought struck him.
“…Raina.”
His mind went blank.
Bern ran.
He grabbed nothing but a cloak and his sword before mounting his horse and heading straight for Raina.
The sound of hooves pounding against the stone streets filled his ears.
“Please. Please. Please.”
A painful realization crashed down on him.
“The culprit… was my father.”
That was why he had so easily found Raina’s home.
“…And now, he’s found her again.”
—I have to get there before him.
Time felt endless as he rode.
When he finally reached the house, everything was already over.
A strangled sound escaped his lips.
“Aah…”
His heart crumbled.
It was a nightmare repeated.
The small house was in ruins as if attacked by a mob. There was no hope that anyone inside had survived.
Then, from the second floor, the flickering torchlight cast a shadow—a person’s silhouette twisted against the ceiling.
His father and the knights were still inside.
That meant there was still a chance.
Bern grabbed onto that sliver of hope and moved to rush inside—
But someone grabbed his cloak and yanked him back.
Spun around, he faced an unexpected sight.
“You almost arrived too late. Why are you always in such a rush?”
A calm voice—too casual for the situation.
Jed.
But Bern had no time to question why Jed was there.
Raina’s life was at stake.
“Let me go!”
Bern’s voice rose, but Jed simply placed a finger to his lips.
“Shh. Your Raina is alive.”
“…!”
Bern felt his strength drain from his body.
Guiding him away, Jed clicked his tongue.
“You act without thinking. What would you have done if you barged in? Fought your father and his knights? Did you think you could win?”
Bern bit his lip and stayed silent.
Any other time, he might have argued.
But in the past few days, he had realised his powerlessness.
Just being strong and righteous wasn’t enough to protect what mattered.
For the first time, Bern lowered his head.
“…I apologize for acting recklessly.”
Jed raised an eyebrow.
“You’re acting strange…”
A bad feeling crept over him.
Something was changing—something he didn’t like.
And Jed didn’t want Bern to change.
His world was perfect as it was.
That’s why, as he led Bern away, Jed made a decision.
“…I need to get rid of the variable.”
