Chapter 136 - 2-18 Louis's Perspective
"I understand what you're saying. No... I can't say I truly understand. I comprehend your words, but I cannot grasp the situation. However, I can tell that you are slightly different from the Highness I know."
"That is enough. I am just as confused as you are, Cyril."
We spoke for hours, trying to bridge the gap between our conflicting realities. Yet, the more we talked, the more the wrongness of this place stood out. The only reason I could keep going was that the Cyril before me was the same Cyril I knew so well. Having someone sharp enough to notice my change and willing to try and understand was my only salvation in this mess.
"So, in the reality you know, Rachel Marcel is still alive as your fiancée."
"Of course. No matter how many times you explain it, no matter how much I read these documents you've brought... I still can't believe it."
The documents in my hand stated exactly what Cyril had told me: Rachel was to be sent to Chantreuil Monastery. On the way, she, her maid Sarah, and their driver were attacked by bandits. And...
"...There is no mistake. Rachel is..."
"Yes. I went to the Marcel estate immediately after receiving the news and confirmed it myself. Miss Rachel has indeed passed away."
My fist clenched involuntarily, crumpling the paper.
"I didn't even protect her... What on earth was I doing!"
Fury at myself surged within. The relationship between me and Rachel that Cyril described was cold, devoid of any warmth. Why had Rachel supposedly attacked Miss Carroll? Why had the engagement been broken so easily? Why... why?
A dark, thick haze swirled violently within my mind.
"...You truly do cherish Miss Rachel, don't you?"
I snapped my head up at the voice. Cyril was staring at me, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and bewilderment.
"...Yes. I want to torture the bandits who attacked her to death right now. But just as much... no, even more than that, I am filled with loathing when I think of how much I must have made her suffer."
"Your Highness... but you are not the Highness I know."
"Perhaps. But I am still myself. I don't know how or why this happened, but I can't simply dismiss it as a dream. This is a problem I must not turn away from."
I am me, yet I am not. But I was certainly the root cause of Rachel's suffering in these memories I don't possess.
The reality I knew and the one Cyril described were similar yet fundamentally different. I watched from the corner of my eye as Cyril wrote down a timeline to reconcile our memories, letting out a deep sigh for the umpteenth time since waking. However, organizing it into a table revealed something.
The flow of events had changed at a specific point.
Three years ago, according to Cyril... Rachel had not lost her magic.
This difference likely changed our relationship entirely. If so, the key had to be there. If there was a reason for me being here, I had to understand this world.
With that thought, one place immediately came to mind. A place I had visited frequently for the past three years. I decided to go there first and see the situation with my own eyes.
"Marquis, I apologize for the sudden visit."
"No... I should be the one apologizing for taking such a long leave of absence. Since that day... my wife has fallen ill and remains bedridden."
"...I see."
The first place I went was the Marcel estate. The beautiful Garden, the open and airy hall, the neatly arranged drawing room—nothing had changed. Except for one thing.
This place, which used to be filled with warmth and light whenever I visited, was now shrouded in silence and darkness, like a night where the moon had hidden away. The Marquis before me was a different person from the man who had smiled brightly and said, 'Your Highness, please look after Rachel,' just before I left for the Kingdom of Orta. The dark circles under his eyes and his hollow cheeks made it clear he hadn't slept in days.
"I think of nothing but where I went wrong," he whispered.
"I see."
"She was our only daughter. We raised her with such care. She was always honest, full of curiosity... the apple of my eye. But perhaps we are the ones to blame for sheltering her and raising her to be so ignorant of the world."
The Marquis repeatedly expressed his regret and grief over Rachel, and even offered apologies to me. Yet, the gaze he directed my way held a sliver of hidden hatred and distaste.
It was only natural. According to Cyril, I hadn't treated Rachel with any heart. On top of that, rumors of a romance with the Saint had led to her being sent to Chantreuil Monastery. Just hearing the story made me feel sick with loathing. The Marquis's reaction was entirely justified.
The conversation died out repeatedly, followed by long silences. Eventually, the talk was cut short. Still, I found it hard to leave this mansion. I wanted to stay as long as possible in this place where fragments of Rachel were scattered everywhere. When I asked to visit Rachel's room, the Marquis frowned in suspicion but swallowed his words and led me there.
After asking to be left alone, I stood by the window in Rachel's room, losing track of where I was or what I was doing. The furniture was arranged exactly as it had been during my last visit. The beautiful Garden visible from the window was a place we had walked together many times.
It was strangely unchanged. Except the room's owner was gone. That fact alone left a hollow void of nihilism in my chest. Rachel's parents were kind people full of love. How much their hearts must ache, how much they must suffer, being in a place so full of memories of Rachel when she was no longer there.
I suddenly recalled my final exchange with the Marquis.
"I know it is disrespectful to say this. I know there is no point in telling you now. But..."
"Please, say what is on your mind."
"If only she hadn't been your fiancée, she might still be alive, smiling and happy today. I find myself thinking that over and over."
It hurts. This pain, like my heart is being gouged out, won't go away.
"...If she hadn't been my fiancée, indeed. That is likely true."
A self-mocking smile escaped me. But what would Rachel do if she heard me say that? She would probably get that huffy look and say, 'Louis-sama, as I've told you many times, this is what I wanted.' Recalling her adorable, pouting face made my expression soften for a moment.
But of course, the Rachel with the lovely smile or the Rachel with her large cat-like eyes narrowed in a pout wasn't here. There was only the phantom of her in my mind and the heavy silence.
It was harder than I imagined, having so many things to remind me of her, yet not having her here. Can I go back? To the place where Rachel is?
I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid. If I didn't use my head, if I didn't keep moving, I felt I would be swallowed by terror at any moment. But I couldn't give up. The option to give up didn't exist.
The only thing keeping me sane in this reality was Rachel's existence. She would be waiting for me. Because I believed that without a doubt, I couldn't stop walking. I didn't know who had done this or for what purpose. But there was no way to stop this feeling—one that wasn't just pure, beautiful love, but a dark, obsessive attachment.
Rachel, I will find you and hold you tight. I will never let you go again.
"...Now then, time to head to the next destination."
Though a part of me lingered, I didn't stop my feet as I left Rachel's room, nor did I look back.
Thank you so much for your comments on the previous development and for saying you're looking forward to the continuation! It's very, very encouraging. Louis's perspective will continue for a little while longer, so please bear with me. The manga adaptation has also started, so I hope you'll continue to support both the novel and the manga.