Chapter 07
A firm voice dropped like a blade.
Struck by that blade, Lyrette’s resistance came to a halt as if she had been pierced without mercy. In the meantime, Valderion’s low, hoarse voice pressed in deeper—more intimate, more suffocating.
“I can’t afford to watch you turn half-dead from some reckless stunt. If you die and your Name manifests on me within a year, I’m the one who gets dragged down with you.”
“……”
“And that’s not exactly something I’d welcome.”
Lyrette’s fingers, now returned to their natural state, scraped against the carpet as if trying to crush something unseen.
“If a year passes and your Name doesn’t appear on me, I’ll let you go wherever you want.”
“……”
“Even if it’s hell, I won’t stop you.”
It was decisively absolute in a way that bordered on cruel.
This relationship, he implied, began with Names and would end with Names—dry, stripped of warmth or sentiment.
Yet Lyrette felt neither resentment nor disappointment.
The promise of release after enduring time felt like honey dripping into her ears.
But the darkness in her mind surged back just as quickly.
She stared ahead with eyes half-broken of hope.
“…If the Name appears,” she said.
“……”
“If my Name appears on you, Your Grace…”
“That’s something to think about when it happens.”
He spoke of it lightly, as if it were nothing—something that might bind their souls together forever.
Valderion lifted his hand from the ground and straightened his posture. Lyrette also gathered her trembling body and leaned back against the bed.
“If you still have the energy to behave like this, you should use it to recover your health instead.”
With a precise motion, he straightened his disheveled appearance. Under that immaculate gesture, his cold, arrogant features returned to their original state.
Lyrette looked up at him from where she sat.
The man parted his lips slightly as if to say something—but stopped. Instead, his gaze drifted to her fingers, which were now moving again.
Without a word, he turned away.
Lyrette remained seated, unmoving, until he left the room—only her carefully guarded fingers fidgeting as if she still couldn’t believe they were hers.
* * *
The weather was mild for winter.
Valderion brushed back his hair as it swayed in the wind. The surrounding scenery, covered in rippling water, gave him the strange sensation of standing in the middle of the sea.
The aquatic garden prepared in one corner of the palace always evoked such quiet impressions.
“Honestly, wouldn’t it have been better to take a ship?”
Dailen, seated across from him like a soaked piece of seaweed, grumbled lazily, misinterpreting Valderion’s gaze.
As always, he was dressed in a way that suggested carelessness rather than refinement.
Though they sat in the same place by the still waterside, the two men were complete opposites in black and white contrast.
“There’s a luxury excursion ship that just arrived from the Pontilli Kingdom. It’s huge, you know. Very high-end.”
“The weather’s quite cold for that.”
“You don’t understand. Winter is the proper season for boating.”
Dailen chuckled and produced a cigar, as if stating something self-evident. Valderion’s head already ached at the heavy medicinal stench and responded with a sigh.
“I hate boating.”
“Of course you do. You have no sense of romance at all.”
Romance, huh.
Valderion suppressed a faint smile at the thought that even someone so vulgar in leisure pursuits could speak of romance—truly a matter of pedigree.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t boating itself he hated. It was boating with Dailen.
If they boarded that excursion ship and circled the vast aquatic garden, it would mean wasting even more time after finishing their business.
To Valderion, that was unacceptable.
Hence, their meeting was held here instead of on the boat—at a rest area beside the aquatic garden.
“So, how is it?”
After yawning lazily, Dailen asked.
Reading Valderion’s expression, he grinned.
“Lyrette, I mean.”
“……”
“Is she doing well?”
If anything, the reason Valderion had come to meet Dailen today was also because of that woman. He lowered his gaze and briefly recalled the past few days. A sigh slipped out naturally, and Dailen burst into loud laughter as if he found it hilarious.
“I kind of expected it. That one isn’t the type to back down easily.”
Valderion agreed inwardly.
If not for the fact that her body was being held hostage by the Name phenomenon, she would have clawed at his face without hesitation. Despite her frail body that collapsed at the slightest strain, her eyes never lost their edge—that was proof enough.
“She seems sensitive to sound.”
Dailen looked surprised at the report, then smirked and tapped his ear.
“Oh, that? I used to shout right into her ears a lot.”
“……”
“Did I hit her too? Her eardrums probably ruptured a few times. That must be why.”
Though Valderion had vaguely expected abuse or violence, the casual tone in which Dailen recounted such cruelty left him momentarily speechless.
A pure villain, one might say.
At times, Valderion found himself thinking that word when observing the Crown Prince.
“You didn’t summon me here just to ask something so trivial, did you?”
Dailen leaned forward, exhaling deeply.
“So, what do you need?”
The tone that followed was subtle, almost intimate—perhaps due to the cigar smoke curling between them.
Not entirely because of the haze.
Meetings between the Imperial Family and the Duke House of Eustutia had always been like this.
The Imperial Family, like the sun illuminating the empire, and House Eustutia, like the moon supporting it unseen in the darkness. Their relationship was so intertwined it could almost be called the boundary between light and shadow.
Their bond traced back to the founding Emperor Arden.
When the first Emperor Arden established the Alreint Empire from barren lands, he had a twin sister.
Little was known about her even by those deeply versed in imperial history.
Only one thing was recorded.
That the Emperor had been obsessively attached to his twin sister.
Rather than marrying her off as a political hostage, he kept her within his sight, granting her noble status and building a domain solely for her. Even the founding noble families could not oppose his will.
Thus, House Eustutia was born.
What began as the Emperor’s obsession gradually evolved into a structural pillar supporting the imperial court.
It became a stabilizing force over noble houses while also gaining legitimacy through imperial blood ties.
A symbiotic relationship beyond division.
Thus, for generations, the Imperial House of Arden and the Duke House of Eustutia governed the empire together—its light and its shadow.
“It seems you already guessed it when I asked you to secretly take that woman out.”
“Hmm?”
“If her existence becomes public, it brings me no benefit whatsoever.”
Dailen raised and lowered his brows in mild acknowledgment. Valderion paused there.
Even someone as simple-minded as him would understand what this meant.
“Ah.”
“So you’re asking me to keep my mouth shut?”
“For now—one year.”
“One year?”
“Within that time, it will be determined whether it becomes mutual… or remains one-sided.”
“Hm.”
“If it’s one-sided, it will be erased as if it never happened.”
Dailen’s gaze sharpened.
“So… if it’s not mutual, you’re planning to bury it entirely.”
Correct.
If the Name manifested only on Lyrette, Valderion had no intention of taking responsibility for her beyond one year.
Once that time passed, if everything ended there, he would return to his rightful place as a perfect duke—even if Lyrette had to crawl into hell alone.
Thus, if her existence were revealed during that year, it would bring him no benefit. Therefore, he intended to conceal it entirely.
And the first step was to seal this man’s loose tongue.
Ordinary people might have guessed this quickly—but Dailen was unpredictable, a man who never restrained his tongue. It was necessary to be explicit.
“I understand your position. If not for this trivial entanglement, you would have continued your planned path without issue.”
“……”
“Even your engagement to House Floyden Marquis would have been included.”
