Just because you have lost everything and died once, it doesn’t mean all hope and dreams vanish with it.
On the contrary, human desire is so potent that people often resolve to achieve their ends at any cost in the life they have returned to. Everyone would view such a regression as an opportunity.
Peon, who had been a fatherless bastard and a dirty mongrel since the moment he was born, naturally hoped for even more.
His wish was strictly fundamental and simple: to live happily with the person he loves.
The desire to look directly at her this time around, to resolve every tragedy he already knew of, and to ensure her end was a natural one rather than an untimely one—this desire would raise its head, piercing through the cut no matter how much he tried to prune it. Perhaps one’s innate blood is truly unavoidable.
Or perhaps it was the Emperor’s brainwashing. In any case, he was born a dirty bastard and grew up into a magnificently thick-skinned piece of trash.
The piece of trash grinned as he watched Kaella staring at him, unmoving. He ate the peach he had offered her instead. His smile was fresh and magnificent—so much so that his heart tightened, momentarily forgetting the inevitability of death.
“By you?”
Overwhelmed by such agitation, Kaella tore down the high walls of etiquette she had built and opened her eyes wide. Her delicate eye rims were still wet.
Peon could not take his eyes off her. Now that he could look at her to his heart’s content, he felt he could breathe again. At the same time, he realized he could never turn away from her again. Even before he died, he had practiced forcing himself to let go, but now, even that was impossible.
“Me?”
Her pink lips, with a smudge of cream beneath her straight, perfectly shaped nose, parted.
“Why?”
“Because I’m a piece of trash?” Peon answered casually.
“That can’t be.”
The most absolute existence in his world declared that it could not be. She opened her clear eyes, piercing right through him.
“Why not?” The man, too noble and too upright to be playing the role of a villain, chuckled and asked back.
“Well… because that’s impossible, isn’t it?”
Kaella tilted her head, then chose not to look at his smile. For no reason, she stirred the bowl of peaches with a wooden spoon.
“I know what your dream is.”
It was to live happily with Beatrice and the Empress. She knew it well. No one could stop Peon, who was racing toward that dream. He couldn’t be stopped, nor could he be broken, so he simply shattered instead. He must have shattered. Kaella, who had been imprisoned, knew nothing of what had happened after Beatrice gifted her the poison.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
Kaella, still avoiding his gaze, scooped up the finely sliced peaches and ate them. Peon took in every detail: the round shape of her head, her plump forehead, her thick eyebrows, and the dark eyelashes beneath them.
Kaella felt as if everything his gaze touched was catching fire. *Why is he staring like that?* Before she died, he hadn’t even given her a glance, as if she were some kind of insect. Yet here he was, staring fixedly at her. It was truly strange. Does he suspect she’s a spy?
Ah. Could it be he already thinks she’s a pawn of the Emperor? With her energy drained, Kaella set the spoon down. Her appetite vanished entirely.
“To live happily with Beatrice… unni… and Her Majesty the Empress. I know. I truly hope it turns out that way.”
*So please, just don’t let her die a painful death. Don’t imprison her; just kill her at once.* There was nothing as nauseatingly terrible as a slow-approaching death. Her slender hand, clutching the bowl, turned deathly pale.
“I hope so too. I have no intention of getting in the way of that.”
She was desperately pleading with a predator to kill her well. Peon, who had been staring at her intently, replied a little late.
“That is not my dream, Kaella.”
Only then did Kaella lift her head to look at him. When their eyes met, he grinned.
“Then what is it?”
What was his dream? Since the moment they left for Lyussenford, as long as its master held her life in his grasp, Kaella needed to know. For the sake of a comfortable and easy death, she had to know.
“Shouldn’t you be asking how I handled it when Beatrice came looking for you, rather than asking about that?”
“You must have handled it yourself.”
“Ah, yes. I said I ‘wasn’t interested.’”
He wasn’t interested. Or rather, he intentionally refrained from taking an interest. Because whenever she felt curious, it always ended with only Kaella being hurt and upset. Perhaps she now knew well that she had no right to be curious. Even if she knew, would she even be able to understand?
What Kaella was still somewhat curious about was why Peon wasn’t reproaching her for fighting with Beatrice. She had steeled herself for his anger, expecting a biting word the moment he saw her face, but he hadn’t said a single unpleasant thing. He was just casually peeling peaches. He wasn’t a person who usually did this; he was always so indifferent, focusing only on his own work.
She lifted her head again. Peon, his black hair slightly disheveled, was looking down at his hands, which were wet with sticky, sweet fruit juice. When he caught her eyes, he didn’t look away. By now, the bowl was piled high with finely sliced peaches, and the air between them was heavy with a sweet, cloying scent.
“Should I cut more?”
“Aren’t you busy?”
“Changing the subject, are you?”
He chuckled and grabbed another luscious peach. His large hand, with its well-defined tendons, handled the paring knife with great skill. Perhaps because he was originally a swordsman, he was adept with small blades as well.
Contrary to what she knew, Peon was remarkably loose and relaxed. It was surprising to see him this way; he seemed so laid back, unlike what she had expected. It was even more pronounced than back then, when Beatrice used to visit.
*‘It’s impossible that being with me is enjoyable.’*
Kaella looked at Peon as if observing a stranger. He had always been so busy that he never had a moment to spare for idling with her. The hands that should have been touching documents or gripping a sword picked up the soft peach, sliced it, and brought it to his mouth. His slightly thick lips parted in an arc. As the peach disappeared between his clean, firm teeth, Kaella realized his purple eyes were staring straight at her.
A beat later, her small shoulders jumped, trembling like a bird.
“Is it good?”
Peon gestured with his chin at the bowl Kaella was clutching tightly. The blueberries and strawberries were barely visible under the cream and the peaches piled on top.
“No.”
Now that it was covered in cream, she had lost her appetite. Even though she had been sure she could empty the entire bowl when she first arrived.
“You haven’t even eaten much. Is the cream not to your liking?”
*How did he know?*
“Yes.”
“Then let’s just eat the fruit. Eat just this one.”
He offered her another sliced piece of peach. The question of ‘why is this man doing this?’ lasted only a moment. Kaella recalled that they were behind the Empress’s palace, where they used to play together as children. It was a place filled with memories. It was Peon who had always held the hand of young Kaella, who offered her jelly and pudding, telling her to eat more. It must be because it reminded him of those times. A faded past that felt far too distant to her now.
Kaella, thinking of the time when she would have forgotten all about Peon once she was married, accepted the peach he offered. Along with the soft flesh, his firm, juice-soaked finger brushed against her lips.
*‘Is this why I came back to life?’*
To enjoy it for a while? Maybe God returned her because she was so pitiful, just so she could receive some meaningless kindness. Kaella chewed the peach and let the futile thoughts drift away. Peon wouldn’t give them any meaning anyway. She lifted her gaze.
He brought the finger her lips had touched to his own fine mouth. The tip of his tongue came out and licked the sticky fruit from his skin. His beautiful purple eyes were looking at her—indifferent, impossible to read.
“Is it good?”
He asked affectionately, just like when they were young, but she didn’t know what the peach tasted like. Kaella lowered her head, avoiding his gaze first. She was the only one flustered by that indifferent look. Pathetically.
“I have something for you. Just a moment.”
There was the sound of hands splashing in water. Kaella remained silent, eyes fixed on her dress, chewing the peach thoroughly. She could feel Peon spreading a handkerchief in front of her to dry the hands he had just washed.
“I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
He took a small box out of his inner pocket.
*What is that?* Kaella, her eyes now devoid of tears, watched quietly as the box opened.
A brief silence settled between them. Peon, who had been carefully observing Kaella as she stared blankly, finally broke it.
“Do you not like it?”
“No, it’s pretty. Why?”
It was a simple, classic ring with a round-cut diamond set high and small purple amethysts on either side. The diamond was quite large, so she thought it must be worth a significant amount.
“It’s pretty.”
Peon nodded calmly and took the fruit bowl from her hands.
“It’s yours.”
“Hm?”
“I said I had something to give you. It’s yours.”
He took her left hand, which had turned white from gripping the bowl so tightly, and put the ring on her finger himself. It was obvious she wouldn’t have picked it up if he’d just held it out.
“It’s mine?”
Peon chuckled at the sight of Kaella’s wide, round eyes as she repeatedly confirmed it.
“It’s yours. …They say it was Mother’s ring. I received it from His Majesty the Emperor.”
His tone was bitter as he spoke honestly. He didn’t want to give Kaella a ring that the Emperor had just picked out and tossed at him.
“I’ll give you something I prepared later.”
“No, no. This is enough. It’s so pretty.”
Blinking, Kaella looked at the ring and then awkwardly at him.
“…But I think it’s too much for me.”
It was a far more valuable ring than the one she had received before she died. And it was the Empress’s ring; wasn’t that an incredibly precious item to Peon as well?
“You keep this, Peon. I’m fine.”
Peon looked at her with an expression of disbelief as she tried to pull the ring off. Kaella felt her heart constrict.
Did she make another mistake? Did she hurt his feelings? But she had spoken so carefully, trying to be humble. She was trying to take it off gently so as not to scratch the ring, but Peon grabbed both of her hands and stopped her.
“I know very well that you don’t want to marry me.”
His low voice was raspy, like a beast’s.
“But the marriage cannot be canceled, Kaella.”
His indifferent eyes did not leave her, looking straight at her. His purple eyes wavered.
“I’m sorry, but you have to marry me. No, don’t avoid my eyes; look at me properly.”
Kaella glanced around the empty area, worried that someone might see, but Peon pulled her hands and said firmly.
Only when her blue eyes turned back to him did he slightly loosen his grip. Even so, it wasn’t enough for Kaella to pull her hand away. In fact, she had no intention of doing so. When else would she get to have her hand held by him?
“This ring is yours until you die. No one will take it from you, and even if they try, you must not give it away. You must not give it away, not even to me. Do you understand?”
Kaella, quietly stubborn, just stared at him with her shoulders hunched. The look in her eyes as she stared without answering was full of negation. It meant she wouldn’t listen, in the end.
A sigh escaped him, but Peon didn’t have the confidence—or the intention—to defeat Kaella. If she quietly gave the ring to someone else, he would just have to take it back.
“Don’t take it off.”
Peon said it as if making a vow, pushing the ring back on, which had already slipped past one knuckle.
“Kaella.”
How did he know she was thinking of something else? Peon pulled her closer once more. For some reason, he looked terribly urgent. Kaella couldn’t help but laugh. She giggled, her eyes curving. It was a bright laugh that made the person she was facing lose his senses.
“Yes. I understand.”
Ever since she arrived here, Peon had been toying with her. Instead of feeling angry, she felt fascinated. She was fascinated to see that man acting this way, now that her status as Lady Ostain was still intact. The attention he gave her, even if it was just like this, was sweeter than the peaches, which in the end felt bitter.
No matter how she thought about it, Kaella was a truly hopeless, crazy girl. Despite her rational mind, her heart reacted first to a single word of his, to a smile she hadn’t seen in so long.
She was starved for food, but she was also starved for affection. It was pathetic that receiving even a word like this was considered a ‘happy thing.’
“I will.”
His gaze did not leave Kaella, who kept laughing forlornly.