You Said You Wanted Us to Break Up - Chapter 104

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

Demian answered nonchalantly. Furrowing his brow further, Iswen spoke.

“If I could have fired your etiquette teacher, I would have done so gladly.”

However, their etiquette teacher had already quit a long time ago. It was because both of them had grown too old to receive etiquette training.

Demian shrugged his shoulders at his fastidious brother.

“Look, I just won’t do it next time.”

‘Wait, Iella might want to go through Brother’s desk next time, too.’

Once his thoughts reached that point, he corrected himself.

“Actually, no, I’ll do it again next time if I need to.”

The space between Iswen’s eyebrows creased even more. However, perhaps thinking that scolding him would be ineffective, no lecture followed.

Demian edged closer to his brother, who was tidying the desk, while cautiously testing the waters.

“Brother.”

Knowing that his younger sibling only used such an affectionate tone when he wanted something, Iswen didn’t even give him a glance.

“Speak.”

Despite his blunt attitude, his brother was more generous than he appeared. Demian began softly.

“There’s something I’m curious about…”

A short while later, having received the answer he wanted, Demian left the office without looking back. It was an act that revealed his original intentions in their entirety.

Suppressing a sigh at his brother, who seemed to be getting simpler by the day, Iswen leaned his head back.

The ceiling of the office, which had been used by heads of the family for generations, came into view. It was a ceiling that had not collapsed and never would, yet he felt as if he were being crushed by its weight.

After a moment of silence, Iswen closed his eyes. The young emperor’s voice echoed in his mind.

‘I mean for you to bring me evidence that your father is undeniably dead.’

The Emperor’s demand was unreasonable. Yet, it was logical. For even he could not be certain if his father had truly submitted to a fate he so richly deserved.

The Emperor had simply expressed her suspicion in the manner of a ruler—utterly high-handed and disregarding the circumstances of those beneath her. Iswen was well acquainted with that method, having crushed his own siblings in much the same way.

Regardless, the suspicion would soon be clarified one way or another. Iswen recalled his father’s aide, who had begged while bowing his head to the ground.

“Only my life! Please, just spare my life! If you do, I will live as quietly as a dead mouse!”

Iswen had stripped him of everything he owned before letting him go. He prevented the man from benefiting even from the fringes of his social status and severed all contact with his relatives and family. This was done to ensure that the cornered man would realize his only remaining lifeline was the traces of the master he had previously served.

One of Iswen’s subordinates had been attached to Payden Hale, who had been cast out and reduced to a beggar in an instant. Recently, that subordinate confirmed that Payden had made contact with a suspicious individual—one of those who had shared in dirty dealings back when Capren held the position of the head of the family.

“I have found traces of the matter you ordered me to track.”

Now, all that remained was to follow the trail.

Though everything was clear, a heavy weight sat upon his heart. However, having lived for a long time with the weight of a certain woman’s unbuilt headstone on his soul, Iswen calmly accepted the uncomfortable burden.

***

Late at night, Payden Hale pushed through the forest, catching his ragged breath. The unrefined path felt uncomfortable with every step, but he was in no position to care about such things.

Until only a few months ago, Payden had lived an enviable life as the aide to the Duke of the South. That was until the heir to the family joined the rebellion.

The man who had once been his father’s faithful right hand—often called the “Little Lord Rowen”—had suddenly turned his back and joined forces with the Princess.

If only it had been just his gaze that had shifted, it might have been fine, but he ended up overturning the entire state.

As a result, the princess became the emperor, the master he served lost his life at the hands of his own son, and Payden lost his entire fortune.

‘As you requested, I shall spare only your life.’

The son of his master, now seated in the position of the head of the family in his father’s stead, had looked down at him as he begged for his life and spoke.

‘Live the rest of your life possessing absolutely nothing.’

Since that day, Payden had truly become a beggar. Family and friends alike had all turned their backs on him.

‘I’m telling you this now, but I’ve been sick of you for so long. Let’s end this. I’m going back to my parents’ house. Don’t contact me.’

‘I’m sorry, Payden. I can’t help you either. The new Duke Rowen is watching with hawk-like eyes, is he not?’

Recalling these bitter memories for a moment, Payden bit his narrow lips. He didn’t need a wife or friends. They had flattered him when he had much, yet the moment he fell into trouble, they left without looking back. He thought this without realizing that he himself was a character impossible to like, even before branding them as hypocrites.

Having lost even his mansion and having nowhere to return to, Payden had tried to find and use the hidden assets of the former head of the family. However, when he reached the place where the fortune was hidden, he couldn’t find a single copper coin.

It was unbelievable. This was because he was the only one who knew the location of the hidden assets. The former head of the family was thorough and had not revealed all his secrets even to his son.

Of course, the former head—the owner of the assets—also knew the location, but…

When his thoughts reached that point, a single possibility flashed through Payden’s mind. Could it be that the former head of the family is still alive?

Thereafter, he scraped together everything he had to try and track one person down. And finally, his efforts bore fruit.

“I have made contact with the ‘Root’.”

‘Root’ was a code name referring to the head of the Rowen family. Since the family crest was a plant, the name referred to the origin.

His heart began to race. If only the former head were alive, his own reinstatement would not be a distant dream. Payden asked in a trembling voice.

“Where is he?”

The information broker who confirmed the survival of the former head also told him where to go. It was a small cabin located deep within these mountains.

Finally, a small house appeared in the distance. Drenched in sweat from the climb, Payden rushed toward it.

He knocked on the cabin door with frantic impatience.

“Is anyone there?”

There was no answer. Payden swallowed hard, his nerves on edge.

It was then that the door swung open without a sound. Standing behind it was a man wearing a black robe pulled low over his face.

A hoarse voice drifted out from beneath the hood.

“Hale.”

It was the Duke’s voice. A look of profound relief washed over Payden’s face.

The Duke allowed him inside.

The interior of the cabin was dreadfully dark and shabby. Unless there was more hidden in the unlit corners, the room contained only a couple of small chairs, a desk littered with burn ointments, a fireplace, and a single bed.

Seeing the burn salves, Payden remembered that the last place the Duke had been was the burning Imperial villa. He had likely suffered burns while escaping the flames.

Still, Payden couldn’t help but feel a reflexive sense of doubt. Does the Duke even need burn ointment? After all, the Duke had…

Before he could follow that thought to its conclusion, a hissing sound came from under the robe again.

“That cunning wench deceived me… she laced the essence with poison.”

It was a lethal poison that Capren himself had once handed over.

To obtain what he truly “desired,” Capren had needed the trace of a fairy to offer as a sacrifice, which led him to seek a way to get his hands on the essence of the Glasyr.

It was around that time that contact was established between a spy he had planted and a girl at Raslet Castle. It was said that Lerox Raslet—who was still alive at the time—had taken her in and raised her like a daughter since she was a child.

The woman had proposed to bring him the Glasyr essence within three years. In exchange, she had demanded only one thing.

A lethal poison that dissolves the intestines.

[Shouldn’t an enemy’s intestines be severed first?]

The letter, written in a refreshing script, contained a cold-blooded murder plot.

Capren had sent the woman what she requested, and not long after, Lerox Raslet was dead.

When the new Raslet took his father’s place, Capren pushed for the marriage between the young Raslet and his own daughter. It was an alternative prepared just in case Merwen Ethel had lied.

Before the promised period ended, Ethel’s daughter sent him the Glasyr’s essence. It was a feat accomplished by joining forces with the knight he had sent along with his daughter’s marriage.

That his biological daughter was framed for a crime she couldn’t easily escape was none of his concern.

To him, his daughter was merely a second chain to hold back his eldest son. Her innate bloodline was certainly special, but the magic her mother left behind upon her death had rendered it ordinary.

He needed the trace of a fairy other than his daughter, and as long as the Glasyr’s essence was in his hands, it didn’t matter if his daughter lived or died.

Then an unexpected incident occurred, and upon using the Glasyr’s essence, he discovered it was mixed with the very poison he had sent… but soon, he would have another trace of a fairy besides the Glasyr’s essence.

Capren twisted his lips into a smirk, thinking of the woman who went around stabbing everyone with a smiling face.

There was one thing that wolf-like girl from the North hadn’t anticipated.

From the beginning, Capren had no lingering attachment to this body.

“It is an incurable disease.”

This was a body that had heard such words since birth.

If he could only swap it out, he would do so gladly.

Finishing his thoughts, he asked Payden.

“How was that fellow Iswen when you last saw him?”

The dim-witted man didn’t understand the question immediately. Capren made his inquiry more specific.

“I mean, did there appear to be anything wrong with his body?”

What did Iswen Rowen look like? After retracing his memory for a moment, Payden replied.

“He was limping on one leg.”

“Tsk. Foolish brat. He doesn’t even know how to value what he has…”

Payden, as he always did, fawned over the duke, who was treating his eldest son with such pathetic disdain.

“Your Grace, I am truly moved to see you alive like this. Now…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a searing heat in his abdomen followed by an indescribable pain. Payden’s gaze slowly drifted downward. A small dagger was buried in his stomach.

Payden blinked.

“Wh-Why…?”

The Duke, who had thrust the dagger into him, spoke coldly.

“I was the one who trained that fellow Iswen.”

“……”

“Do you truly think he left you alive out of the kindness of his heart?”

Payden collapsed to the floor, unable to utter another word. Capren stared down for a moment at the small, spreading red pool beneath the man before turning his back.

“Let’s move.”

His real aide, who had been hiding silently in a shadowed corner of the house, stepped forward.

“Yes, sir.”