NOVEL NEXT chapter 99
Three days later, the Visente family was forcibly sent to the organization’s gambling den.
I had already sent a letter to the Grand Madam, including the atrocities they committed at the official residence, along with their extravagant expenditures.
The organization would still want to collect their money, so they would contact the ducal house. The Grand Madam would hold Helene accountable.
Since Helene had already acted out of line multiple times, Count Queensguard no longer seemed willing to help her. It was understandable—he wasn’t the kind of man to show leniency just because she was his daughter.
‘I wonder if the Brigadier is all right.’
I could feel him openly avoiding me, so I hadn’t dared approach him.
Honestly, I was also at a loss for what to say to him, and I was agonizing over it alone.
Even I knew how uncomfortable it is to be around someone who’s learned the secret you wanted to keep hidden.
“Maybe time will tell.”
I murmured as I fiddled with the cute duck bandage on my neck.
You know how, even when things get a little awkward, we often end up becoming close again through the smallest things. Without needing to have uncomfortable conversations.
I was curious—how the Allied Forces meeting had gone, what the country he visited was like, what tasty things he had eaten.
In the meantime, I just did my own tasks—lingering in the kitchen peeling onions and potatoes, playing with the cats who had grown rounder with their winter coats, planning the next volunteer activity.
I had thought maybe I’d tell him if something fun happened, but nothing really did.
Not being able to chatter to Masera made life just a little duller. He wasn’t very responsive, but those subtle changes in his expression when he tried to hold back a laugh—they were electrifying and gave me a sense of triumph.
“Then I must find a topic so amusing he won’t be able to hold back his laughter.”
When that happened, what I usually did was “zoning out.” I’d sit in a chair with a view I liked and simply spend time in silence.
Having lived two lives, I sometimes needed time to sort through my thoughts.
‘I think I finally understand why memories are erased before the afterlife.’
It was definitely more mentally complicated than my previous life.
Maybe the grim reaper forgot to erase my memories and just threw me into some random novel. They could’ve at least told me the plot. Then I could’ve solved everything easily.
“……”
Then maybe Masera wouldn’t have had to suffer from painful memories.
As I stared at the all-white scenery that looked like a blank canvas, I began to feel a little melancholic.
“…There must have been a way to solve things without hurting him.”
But no matter how ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) much I racked my brain now, the only outcome I could foresee was one where I ended up hurting him.
‘I just want to be together without worrying about anything.’
At some point, I had begun to desire too much.
* * *
Masera, who had been in his office, saw Cynthia sitting alone on a bench in the garden.
She was once again sitting there quietly, gazing off somewhere.
Bringing a coat with him, Masera stepped outside and approached her.
At some point, snow had gently piled on her shoulders.
“What are you looking at this time?”
He was curious about what she was watching. That was all.
As he draped the coat over her shoulders and asked the question, Cynthia looked up at him and smiled brightly, just like always.
“I’m looking for something interesting. To tell you about it, Brigadier.”
He still couldn’t understand her thoughts. Instead, he carefully placed a duck plush on her lap.
“I saw it and thought of you.”
Cynthia turned the silly-looking duck plush around and inspected it. When she found it made a quacking sound, she asked,
“Why did this remind you of me? Don’t tell me you think I look like it?”
“Because you like things like this.”
“Correct.”
Cynthia pressed the duck like a puppet, making it quack.
As he sat beside her, both relieved by and wary of her usual self, time slowly passed, and he carefully brought up the real reason he came.
“I thought it would be better to speak about the past myself, rather than having you hear it from others.”
“All right. I’d like to know what kind of child you were. What your dreams were, what you liked, and good memories with your real parents.”
Cynthia smiled with her eyes.
Masera opened his mouth with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
“My father was in the navy. He served on a warship called the Nautilus. The toy warship Eugene brought back is actually a model of the Nautilus, which has since sunk.”
He spoke of the kind and affectionate memories with his parents.
“There was spring at the naval base where I lived. During spring, a navy festival was held, and I even got to board the ship with my parents. My father would always bring back desserts on his days off, and I looked forward to that day more than anything.”
That was one of the reasons Masera liked sweets.
Having lived by the sea, Masera had eaten so much fish he was sick of it, which explained how he could stomach the dreadful eel jelly at the ducal residence—he was used to the fishy taste.
“No wonder.”
Cynthia burst into laughter.
It was almost the first time she laughed while listening to Masera talk about his private life. Usually, Cynthia was the one doing the talking.
“There was also a custom of giving handkerchiefs embroidered with prayers for a spouse’s safety. I liked lying on my mother’s lap while she sat in the garden doing embroidery.”
He didn’t tell her the painful memories—but shared the good ones.
Cynthia enjoyed it, as if she were right there in that place and time with him.
“If it’s too hard to share the painful memories, talk about the good ones instead. It’ll be comforting for both of us.”
Watching her smile, Masera suddenly recalled the words of a psychiatrist.
“I heard you’ve been sleeping better lately. But is your heart at peace, Brigadier?”
He had wondered why they’d asked him that out of the blue.
He should’ve realized it from the moment they started making him do all sorts of tests “to understand the guardian’s mental state.” They had been treating him like a patient too.
Cynthia spoke with her usual innocent expression.
“Your parents must’ve been wonderful. It seems those happy memories made you who you are now.”
“What exactly am I now?”
“……”
After a moment of silence, Masera leaned his body toward her—and rested his head on her lap. The sunlight, bright for the first time in a while, made him raise his bandaged hand to shield his eyes.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?”
To his question, she waited a beat before gently stroking his silvery hair.
“A big man acting spoiled like this—what’s there to be afraid of? You’re almost pitiful enough to be cute.”
It wasn’t wrong. Truly, all husbands eventually become children.
Still shielding his vision, Masera spoke.
“My mother used to say the heart is like a box. If you put treasures in, it becomes a treasure box. If you put in garbage, it becomes a trash bin.”
Cynthia quietly listened to him, her expression calm.
“The memories my parents left behind nurtured me, and they made me someone who tries to become a good adult.”
With a sigh, he added,
“I am not a devil or a monster, no matter what the world calls me.”
Her hand, which had been stroking his head, paused briefly—then resumed, gently.
“I know. Good memories continue, and they give us the strength to overcome misfortune.”
Cynthia smiled as she recalled her family from her previous life.
The parents who taught her love, the sister and brother who adored their youngest sibling.
The memories of being loved in her past life had shaped who she was now.
Someone who could find happiness in small things, who wasn’t easily hurt, and who could get back up quickly after falling.
“We’ve become adults who can give others good memories, haven’t we?”
At her words, Masera lowered his bandaged hand and looked up at her.
Cynthia looked down at him as well.
After watching her in silence for a long while, he opened his mouth.
“…When I went to the neutral country for the Allied Forces meeting this time—”
He gently ran his hand through her soft hair.
“I didn’t notice before, but there was spring there. Just like you said, there were flowers, and under the warm sunlight, fragrant wind blew. Back then, I thought I was the one who had found spring first.”
His hand, which had been touching her hair, was now resting on her cheek.
“But thinking back, the one who returned spring to me—was you.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened in surprise—then curved into a gentle smile.
Masera slowly sat upright and faced her.
“I love spring. To the point it’s unbearable.”
No matter how cruel the fate, no matter how painful the past, no matter the reasons to hate—
None of it mattered. He simply loved her.
A breeze blew, carrying sparkling snowflakes. Cynthia smiled as she tucked her fluttering silver hair behind her ear.
“I love you too.”
He recalled the first moment he had seen Cynthia.
More than the red necklace, it was the warm smile catching the sunlight that had stood out.
And the voice buried deep in his heart finally whispered to him:
That maybe—he had fallen for her from the very first moment.