Enrico pushed open the box seat curtain and sat down. The stage, bathed in a dazzling array of lights, was already alive with a ballet performance in full swing.
He hadn’t intended to come. Emilia, who constantly tested his patience, was bothering him, and he felt unsettled by how much her words kept getting a reaction out of him. He wanted to keep his distance, yet this internal struggle had been ongoing for a while.
He couldn’t recall exactly when it had started. At some point, his gaze kept lingering on her, and unlike before, when he felt time with others was a waste, he found himself seeking her out and wanting to spend time together.
‘If you ever have someone precious to you, Your Grace, you will understand.’
Upon hearing those words, the first impulse was curiosity about what exactly Emilia’s unwavering affection was. And what did she mean by a “precious person”?
The thought of having someone precious to him… He believed it would be harder to achieve than being reborn after death. So, he thought he might as well try to feel it indirectly and decided to subtly shake her up.
But the more he did so, the more strangely it was himself who was shaken. At first, he just found her tears intriguing and wished that they would be shed for him. Then later, he started to think that he didn’t want her to cry.
There was no way he could think like this unless he was going crazy. He wondered if it was simply because he didn’t want to see her crying. Acceptance and denial kept repeating in his mind.
‘…So, please don’t get hurt.’
My beautiful but foolish Emilia, who worried about me like a naive animal approaching a hunter trying to maintain distance—her concern, though naive, unexpectedly weighed heavily on his heart.
A person who genuinely cared about him, without any ulterior motives—what an unfamiliar existence.
As he watched Emilia, who increasingly revealed her vulnerabilities without realizing she was binding herself to him, Enrico’s internal struggle between acceptance and denial gradually diminished. But in an absurd moment, that denial suddenly lost all its strength.
He had always been alone and was used to it, but the eerie silence unnerved him.
When the noise around him stopped, even though no one had ever lingered by his side, he felt even more alone. It was strange—he was used to being alone, so why did he feel empty?
That unsettling feeling had led him to obsessively wear his wristwatch. And yet, impulsively, he had taken it off with his own hands. In the house of a woman he had visited without permission, just so he could hear her sleeping breaths more clearly.
The ticking of the watch was gone, and the room was filled with nothing but her soft, warm breaths. Her presence, dense and all-encompassing, left no room for the usual emptiness he felt. For the first time, Enrico wondered if he should accept this change in himself.
TL/N: FINALLY ML STARTED TO NOTICE HIS FEELINGS!!
The attending physician straightened his back, a look of relief crossing his face. Remembering Enrico’s menacing urgency as he had demanded immediate treatment for the woman lying there, the physician spoke even more cautiously than usual.
“The wound has been treated well. It’s best if she doesn’t use her arm for the time being, and she should avoid getting it wet. She needs to apply the medication every hour.”
“I understand.”
“And regarding her ankle, we’ve taken steps to reduce the swelling, but it would be best to have it examined again later.”
Ignoring the physician’s detailed instructions to Zavetta, Enrico stood there, absentmindedly staring down at Emilia who was lying on the bed.
He had been terrified that she would vanish in a burst of sparks when those lights exploded. Yes, it was fear. The suffocating dread that gripped his heart, far worse than the moment he had worried about Emilia getting hurt in Vacorta, still haunted him.
She was supposed to be by his side no matter what happened. The thought that she could leave because of something unexpected…
It felt like realizing something he hadn’t known before.
Enrico slowly placed his fingertips on Emilia’s cheek, who was quietly sleeping. The soft cheek that touched the back of his fingers was hot from the wound.
Enrico slowly and gently stroked her cheek. As if soothing her, Emilia did not wake up from her sleep despite the affectionate touch.
“……You are the one who should not get hurt.”
A low, muffled voice filled the room. With the heavy atmosphere he was radiating, Zavetta and the physician had already left, leaving only him and the sleeping Emilia in the silent room.
His fingers, which had lingered on Emilia’s cheek, moved to her nose. Feeling uneasy about her stillness, he involuntarily searched for her faint breath. Even with the breath brushing against his fingers, his hardened expression didn’t seem to relax.
His heart pounded violently at this feeble breath, yet his worries about her seemed endless. Or perhaps it was something he had been trying to ignore, something that was already foreseen. From the day he jumped into Vacorta to save Emilia, that action had proven everything.
To sacrifice himself for another? To say he protected her because she was a weak woman, when had he ever been a gentleman with virtues, a man who upheld the chivalry of ancient times? He had disgustingly deceitfully blinded and silenced himself.
Unable to bear the confusion anymore, he closed his eyes tightly. Even through the darkened vision, her afterimage kept pouring in.
Her graceful dance, the way she met his gaze confidently, the way her cheeks blushed in humiliation, and the pitiful way she cried as if the world had fallen apart. With the images flashing by quickly, Enrico let out a deep sigh.
‘Sacrifice…’
Is this really what sacrifice is? He didn’t need to question it any further.
But was this really what she meant by a precious person?
The affection she showed her family was warm, pure, and entirely dedicated to them. But what he felt wasn’t something so noble. It was closer to a desire rooted in selfishness, where he wanted her to only look at him, a desire that only he could see.
It was like the dark, clingy feeling of wanting to break the wings of a flying bird just to bind it to his side.
Enrico looked down at Emilia with eyes clouded by conflicting emotions. His hand, still gently stroking her hair, remained tender.
A small knock was heard. Though no permission to enter was given, the door quietly opened, and Fabio stepped inside.
“Upon investigation, we found evidence suggesting the incident was deliberate. The cables holding the smaller lights were cut halfway, and we are focusing on those who had access to the ceiling.”
Fabio whispered cautiously as he observed Enrico. Though Enrico remained motionless, he listened intently.
Despite the lack of reaction, Fabio couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to get out of the room. A strange chill, unfitting for the summer heat, seemed to pool around his feet.
“Was Emilia the target?”
Enrico’s voice held a peculiar intensity. Fabio, not missing this change, bowed even more respectfully.
“We’re currently focusing on that possibility. Even if half of the lights strings were cut, it still had to align with the timing when Miss Emilia was on stage, so we’re also checking for any signs of tampering just before the incident.”
“Tell the chief to have Inspector Raid take charge of the case”
“Understood.”
A brief silence followed. Fabio took it as a signal to leave and quietly slipped out of the room. The moment he closed the door, the breath he’d been holding in tension escaped in a rush.
It was true that Enrico had been acting somewhat differently lately, but never before had he shown behavior like today.
A face so consumed by rage. If it hadn’t been for the urgency of treating the collapsed Emilia, he might have torn the theater apart right then and there.
Fabio had pleaded desperately as he held Enrico back from rushing to the stage. Only when Fabio promised to personally escort Emilia to the Duke’s mansion, insisting that she wouldn’t want a scene, did Enrico stop his rampage.
After witnessing Enrico suppress his burning rage, Fabio quickly called for a doctor and rushed backstage. After administering first aid, he told the people around him that Emilia would be taken to the hospital but instead brought her to the Duke’s mansion. With everyone in a state of confusion, it was possible to get away with this much, but had anyone questioned him more closely, it could have become a real headache.
Fabio was worried about Enrico, who seemed to have changed ever since he met Emilia. Was this a good thing? Or was it a bad thing? Since it was a change that he couldn’t draw a definite conclusion about at the moment, Fabio could only tremble with anxiety.
* * *
When she opened her eyes, a hazy light came into view. Emilia barely moved her heavy eyelids to check her surroundings. An ornate ceiling painting that she had seen somewhere before appeared and when she rolled her eyes slightly to the side, the afterimage of a softly flickering candle came into view.
Her whole body throbbed with pain. Just as she was about to lower her aching arm while grimacing, she felt a gentle grip on her wrist.
“Don’t move yet. It’s best if you stay lying down for a while.”
* * * *
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