You Said You Wanted Us to Break Up - Chapter 49

Merwen was imprisoned in the North Tower, where high-ranking criminals were usually kept.

Sioden had been here before. Just as Merwen wasn’t the only prisoner with powerful connections, this wasn’t his first time punishing a criminal with ways to escape.

The tower’s prison was much more comfortable than the last time he had seen it. While it hadn’t been particularly harsh before, now it seemed no different from other rooms in the castle.

The floor was covered with thick fabric to prevent the cold, and in one corner of the room, an easel and art supplies were placed, as if intending to respect her hobbies.

It was obvious who had provided them.

Rupid’s words, demanding Merwen’s release, echoed in his ears.

“We knew.”

The man said “we.” Meaning that he, and the other elders, knew Merwen’s true identity.

They had not only condoned Lerox breaking the long-standing northern customs by bringing an illegitimate child into the castle, but they had also uttered words that were utterly repulsive.

“If you two had married, Miss Merwen would have become a legitimate Raslet.”

Underlying those words was the fact that they saw him not as a person, but as a stud for bloodline cleansing.

It wasn’t surprising. Lerox’s retainers and he didn’t see each other as people.

However, openly revealing that mindset was a different matter.

Rupid and his faction would not be entering the castle again. Expelling the elders was one of the reasons he hadn’t disbanded the army even after the rebellion.

Sioden’s gaze fell on the easel in the corner of the room.

He knew Merwen sometimes painted.

But she had never exhibited her paintings.

It wasn’t for lack of opportunity. Even Evelyn, usually indifferent to everything, had made an offer after hearing that she painted.

‘I’ll hold an exhibition for you, if you want.’

After her falling out with her husband, Evelyn had given up most social activities, so it was a considerable favor.

Merwen had smiled and refused.

‘It’s alright.’

Evelyn’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected that response.

‘Why? Isn’t it better to show off your talent than hide it?’

Sioden quietly observed his mother, who was expressing a viewpoint she hadn’t shown before.

At that time, they were gathered together enjoying tea. It was originally an event that didn’t include him, but that day, Evelyn, reflecting Merwen’s wishes, had provided a chair for her son as well.

That didn’t mean they exchanged words. Evelyn only made eye contact with Merwen, to the point of being unsettling, and Sioden deliberately didn’t bother her. Meaning he sat quietly without speaking.

Merwen glanced at him, then focused on her conversation with Evelyn.

“Because I don’t paint to show others.”

That was the end of the discussion about Merwen’s paintings.

Sioden approached the easel.

The canvas on the easel was already full of a painting.

A woman was sitting with her back to the window, where sunlight poured in brightly.

Naturally, her face wasn’t visible since she was turned away, but her hair was bright blonde. A dazzling golden wave, like the spring sunshine, cascaded down her slender back.

Only one person came to mind with such brightly colored hair.

He heard footsteps behind him. Merwen, changed from her pajamas into appropriate clothing, stood behind him. Sioden didn’t turn around.

Merwen scanned him, his eyes never leaving the painting.

“It might seem special to your eyes.”

She said brightly,

“If you like it, you can have it.”

Sioden looked down at the bottom of the canvas. At the end of the oil painting, finished with rough brushstrokes, a signature was inscribed. The name, written in a familiar script, wasn’t Merwen’s name.

Wendy.

No painter would put a name that wasn’t their own on a painting.

However, Sioden had never heard Merwen being called that.

They had spent their childhood together; if he hadn’t heard it, no one in the castle would have used that name.

Sioden turned around. Merwen, in appropriate outerwear, looked up at him. Her usual bright, white face held a smile.

Merwen had worn that expression when he first saw her.

‘My name is Merwen. Merwen Ethel.’

From the vaguely recalled face, only one thing was clear: a smile on her lips.

‘Lord Raslet brought me to the castle.’

The reminiscence wasn’t long. Sioden stepped back from the painting.

“You went out last night.”

A cold expression accompanied the interrogative tone. Merwen, having assessed him concisely, nodded.

“Yes.”

“Imprisoned criminals shouldn’t leave the tower. Did you forget that?”

She hadn’t forgotten. But Merwen didn’t answer. It wasn’t necessary for her counterpart.

Sioden didn’t ask twice.

“The embezzlement lacked sufficient evidence. If you had just gotten through tonight, you would have been released thanks to the elders’ petition.”

It would have been difficult to re-arrest her afterward. It wouldn’t have been impossible, but it would have taken a long time. Sioden wasn’t curious about what Rupid and the other elders would do in the meantime.

Conveniently, the events of last night allowed him to avoid an unwanted future.

“But last night, you broke the law, making that impossible.”

“….”

“Don’t you think the timing is too convenient?”

Merwen stared at him intently.

He was reflected in her pale, sometimes almost transparent, emerald eyes.

His mother, Evelyn, who rarely made eye contact with her son, had liked those eyes.

‘Your eyes are beautiful. They seem honest.’

Of course, Sioden didn’t trust his mother’s judgment.

If Evelyn had been able to judge people sharply, she wouldn’t have followed a man who would betray her to the North.

Merwen, rolling her eyes like green apple candies, spoke.

“Do you know when people are most unhappy?”

“….”

“When they have to live remembering a past they can’t change.”

It was an unexpected statement for such a clear, confident voice, but there was someone it seemed to allude to. There were women around him who had died unhappily, trapped by the past.

Merwen continued in a clear voice.

“What if I had done this? What if I had chosen that instead of this? What if I hadn’t said that then? What if I hadn’t held that hand?”

“….”

“There’s no end to such thoughts.”

And Merwen waited for his reaction. Since her abruptly cut-short childhood, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had been waiting for this moment.

The moment of sharing the dirtiest secret of their bloodline with the son of Raslet. A moment to make the man, who already loathed himself, feel disgust in the mirror until his death. She had wanted him to ultimately succumb to the suicidal impulse that had been crouching in the corner like a predatory animal, waiting for its chance.

But Sioden’s expression didn’t change.

The man looked down at her with eyes like deep fissures in a glacier, and chuckled softly.

“I don’t want to waste time. Say something relevant to the situation.”

His tone clearly indicated that he didn’t understand why she was saying this.

Merwen’s face, which had been smiling, hardened. She stepped closer to the man, who was a head taller than her.

“…Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”

Sioden scanned her with the eyes of someone looking at a madman, and retorted,

“Do you think you can understand?”

Her hands trembled in shock. Merwen asked in a voice completely different from before,

“…Really?”

Merwen stretched out her hand toward him. Before she could grab his chest and demand an answer, Sioden took a step back, his brow furrowed.

“Are you crazy?”

No, she was still sane.

But if he continued to react the same way, she really would go crazy.

Merwen asked the same question again.

“Really? You don’t understand anything?”

“….”

“Think carefully. Didn’t your father tell you anything?”

Sioden twisted one corner of his mouth.

“Ah.”

It was a bland exclamation, as if he had a hunch.

A brief glimmer of hope flickered across Merwen’s face. Yes, even if Lerox Raslet was a bastard, he wouldn’t have hidden his past from his son. Isn’t it true that the more upright a person is, the more they tend to reveal their own filth to their children?

But her hope shattered when the man continued.

“You mean bloodline.”

“….”

“I already know you’re the illegitimate child of the previous generation.”

His tone was contemptuous, as if that were Lerox’s dirtiest secret.

If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t react like this just by saying that.

Realizing her counterpart knew nothing, Merwen covered her face and muttered,

“That’s not it… .”

Sioden frowned. He approached the woman who seemed to be mentally ill. She absolutely had to be of sound mind, as there was a chance of pardon or leniency if she wasn’t.

Before he could grab her arm and check her face, Merwen abruptly raised her head. Her face contorted horribly, and she shouted,

“That’s not it!”

The first crime Lerox’s son should remember when he sees her isn’t some family tree.

Merwen realized.

Lerox Raslet ultimately took his secret to his grave.

Without letting his son know the greatest sin he had committed.