Various emotions shimmered in his eyes as well—eyes that had avoided hers until now, ones they had never truly seen before.
Despite all the time spent turning away from each other, communication was not as difficult as it seemed.
At last, tears slipped first from Sylvia’s eyes.
“I... am sorry, Cedric.”
Had she borne such sorrow alone for so long?
Just as Cedric remembered Sylvia’s straightened back as her final form, to her, his last image was that of a small child—unable to hold his parents’ funerals, unable to accept what was happening now.
“I wanted to protect you from others. Including myself.”
But what had she done until now?
“Of course, I know this will sound like nothing but an excuse to you.”
How could she ever repay the weight of sorrow and life that this child had carried alone for so long?
“That’s why I couldn’t say more. I’m sorry.”
Why had she never thought of this until now?
Watching Sylvia confess, Cedric spoke words long buried in his heart.
“I... have never resented you.”
Sylvia, tears burning, bit her lip hard.
Words that always pierced her heart shattered into pieces.
“I didn’t care if it hurt me.”
The voice of Cedric who had once hated her was but an illusion she had created herself.
A realization that had come far too late.
Sylvia could only clumsily admit it.
“I must have been that person to you as well.”
Sylvia shook her head.
No. Not once.
To her, Cedric was—
“You were always just my adorable nephew. The precious treasure my beloved younger sibling left behind...”
That invaluable gem.
Sylvia’s true feelings finally reached Cedric.
Had her hand always been so weak?
Unlike the small hand that had once let go in childhood, now wrinkled and frail.
Cedric placed his hand gently over her aged one.
“My aunt says the same to me.”
His mother often sat him on her lap, speaking of Sylvia—how noble, how extraordinary she was.
“Cedric will love her too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She’s the most magnificent person my mother has ever known.”
With a playful smile, his mother once waved her hand over his father’s sleeping face and added,
“Sometimes, even more magnificent than your father.”
And the woman he had finally met was exactly as his mother described.
Sylvia was magnificent and extraordinary.
So much so that seeing her reminded him of his mother—a sight that sometimes filled her with guilt.
Cedric and Sylvia spoke for a long time, sharing memories and belated regrets.
They didn’t stop speaking, making up for lost time.
“I should be going now.”
“Yes, it’s late.”
And though the time had come for Cedric to leave, Sylvia no longer felt sorrow.
From now on, they could meet whenever they wished.
As Cedric turned to leave, Sylvia called out one last time.
“Cedric.”
“Yes?”
“Are you happy now?”
He paused, hand on the door handle, thinking.
Then a radiant, beautiful smile spread across his face.
“Yes, I am.”
“...Good. Then go.”
“Have a good evening.”
With that farewell, Cedric closed the door behind him.
“Aunt.”
Sylvia closed her eyes tightly, which had briefly opened wide.
“Violet.”
She whispered the forbidden name she had long repeated silently.
“Cedric has grown well.”
He’s become a warm person, much like you.
“He’s found a good bride.”
Iris marveled at how Cedric had found such a perfect partner.
“...He seems happy.”
Now, Sylvia felt she could awaken from dreams of her sister with a peaceful heart.
The first dawn after returning from the Tran Manor to Leonthaime broke.
Though resting comfortably, Iris couldn’t shake her worry over Sylvia.
“I came back seeing her healthy... but still,”
the punishment and handling of the collateral branches hadn’t been fully resolved.
“The Grand Matriarch of Tran will handle it well, no doubt,”
but given her age, the concern was unavoidable.
Ultimately, Iris attended to other affairs while writing a letter asking them to request her aid should anything arise.
“What should I do about Yurian?”
In truth, she hadn’t seen him since he fainted that day.
Even when she bid farewell to Jana and Tania, he was nowhere to be found—likely fled.
Iris quietly assumed he’d skip morning duty today.
But it seemed that worry was unfounded.
Knock, knock.
“Enter.”
Reacting reflexively to the knock, she allowed Yurian into the room.
Though startled inside, Iris knew it would be rude to show it to the one who came first.
So she forced a calm demeanor.
“Good morning, Mistress.”
“You’re here.”
Iris struggled to find words, but Yurian spoke first.
“Mistress, may I be excused for a while?”
“Is something wrong?”
She worried that his injuries might have worsened from pushing himself too hard.
Seeing her serious expression, Yurian shook his head,
“No, that’s not it.”
His face was markedly different from the troubled one she’d seen before.
“I wish to speak with Master.”
What did I just hear?
Iris mulled this over silently, then asked in surprise,
“Really?”
She never expected such a request from Yurian instead of Cedric.
The usually expressionless Yurian gave the slightest smile for the first time.
His already handsome features seemed to glow like the Sky Lion hanging somewhere in the temple.
“When we went to save the Grand Consort and that little child...”
A sharp sound pierced her ears as the scene before her eyes suddenly shifted.
At first, seeing them surrounded by enemies, the feeling had been fear.
“I thought we would fail again.”
Wasn’t someone else supposed to come?
Since the mistress was strong, should she have handed her the sword?
But in that moment, action overtook hesitation—
the instinct to protect pushed his body forward.
“Even when we rescued them, fear still filled my heart.”
Was it too late? Had he become a hindrance again?
“But for the first time, I felt something else.”
As he carried them on his back, Yurian realized
he had always been shackled by his past.
“That I have yet to ask forgiveness from Master.”
He was afraid to face the torment eating away at his heart,
so he avoided looking at her current self.
He didn’t want to be wounded again.
But now was the time to confront that pain.
To embrace that wound with his entire being.
Having said all this, Yurian knelt and bowed respectfully.
“Therefore, I shamelessly ask for your permission.”
He knew well that abandoning his post as a guardian was dereliction of duty.
Even if Mistress scolded him harshly, or he was dismissed, he would accept it calmly.
But Iris stood and helped him to his feet.
“Very well. You have my permission.”
She smiled as she spoke.
“Go and return safely.”
Her smile was so radiant Yurian stared at her face, stunned, as if broken.
That morning, Cedric lay on the roof.
Of course, such behavior was unbecoming of a Grand Duke.
Especially with Vincent searching diligently for him below.
As Cedric spent time watching the clouds—some shaped like this, others like that—a shadow caught his eye.
“Why have you come?”
The approaching figure froze at the cold question.
Raising his upper body, Cedric turned to see Yurian standing awkwardly, unsure what to do.
“I asked, why have you come?”
With another icy remark, Yurian bit his lip and immediately knelt.
If there was trouble...
“You foolish brat!”
On the rooftop, Cedric lunged to grab Yurian as he nearly toppled backward.
A man of reputed skill in the empire now dangling precariously on a rooftop—
if Greg and Riu knew, they’d never let him live it down.
After much hesitation swayed by the wind, Yurian finally found his voice.
“Good morning.”
“Do you think this looks like a good morning? You’ve really lost your mind!”
Indeed, hanging here like this wasn’t pleasant at all.
Though he could have climbed up easily, Yulian chose to maintain the current position—unlike when Iris was here—making sure he couldn’t escape again.
“Aren’t you coming up?”
Cedric furrowed his brows, knowing Yulian’s skills.
“Sorry.”
Was that apology for now? For the past? Or just a long-suppressed feeling that should have been said earlier but had rotted inside?
“I’m sorry for running away and failing to protect you back then.”
Yulian didn’t know, but seeing tears fall to the earth, it was likely his final apology.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill my duty.”
His trembling hands gripped tightly.
Cedric’s scowling face now held a different emotion.
“I—I...”
“Enough talk, just climb up!”
With that, Cedric grabbed Yulian with one hand and pulled him up effortlessly.
Surprisingly, even in this situation, Yulian thought his master was nothing short of a genius and felt proud.
Even while crying.
Cedric dragged Yulian to a flat spot and dropped him down, then sat heavily himself.
One gasped for breath through tears, the other through exhaustion.
“Why... why did you save me?”
“Ridiculous. You wouldn’t have died falling from there anyway.”
The words were tossed off casually but were true.
If Yulian had intended to survive, he would have landed safely even if he had fallen.
They both stared—Cedric at the sky, Yulian at the ground.
Then his master’s voice pierced Yulian’s ear.
“That time... the reason I could come back...”
He looked up at Cedric.
“It was because of the cloth that bound me.”
Cedric lowered his head and gazed at Yulian.
Yulian parted his lips slightly, dazed, a sight so funny that Cedric snorted with laughter.
“The cloth you tried to wear was all torn to shreds.”
“That... was because I was afraid it might be noticed.”
When returning alone to the fortress, Yulian had torn his clothes and marked a tree.
So he really did see it.
“You left food behind for the wild beasts. They must have been starving too.”
That was the food the worried knights had abandoned.
He noticed that too.
Stunned by the truth revealed late, Yulian finally asked,
“...Do you resent us?”
He left his master there, unable to rescue him, using lack of ability as an excuse despite swearing to be his knight.
But Cedric sighed lightly and replied,
“Quite the opposite.”
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t resentful.”
“...What?”
Yulian tilted his head, not understanding what he had heard.
Cedric clasped Yulian’s hands and candidly revealed,
“You all opposed that purge. Said it was impossible to handle such a vast region all at once.”
But Cedric took it as recklessness.
“That damn emperor slighted me, and I hated it.”
He knew it was impossible.
But the judgment from others and his own decision were different matters.
And of course, trouble erupted.
Cedric could never forget Yulian’s face at their last meeting.
“You looked so distressed.”
Over Cedric’s hollow voice came Iris’s words,
‘So you don’t have to wear that painful expression.’
‘Not even your past self.’
That expression—Yulian couldn’t recall it, but to Cedric, it was unforgettable.
It was etched in his mind—that he had hurt someone else again.
Almost torn apart by beasts and yet survived.
“Are you alright?”
He wanted to say he was sorry for causing it.
But when Yulian returned, his face was still the same.
The knights were all gripped by fear.
He hadn’t changed.
Cedric thought so. He had become someone who still hurt others.
So instead of long speeches, he avoided them.
He believed that was the only way to keep them from ever making that expression again.
Chapter 93