You Said You Wanted Us to Break Up - Chapter 56

“……Thus, the trial concludes.”

The nature of Raslet, the underground courtroom.

Ben, who was appointed to preside in place of the head of the family sitting above and looking down, declared this.

No sooner had his words fallen than one of the lords seated in the place where the accused was confined shouted at Ben.

“Today’s verdict is too harsh!”

Including Merwen, whose guilt was acknowledged, most of the elders, including Rupid, were detained in their respective territories. Coincidentally, all of them had participated in the lottery.

Merwen, who received the heaviest sentence, was detained indefinitely, while the seventy-year-old Rupid was sentenced to ten years. By that time, it was uncertain whether he would still be alive.

If it were up to him, he would have wanted to confront the head of the family directly. However, having been dragged to the courtroom, the defendant was demoted to a provisional criminal and lost the right to speak with the head of the family.

Even if the head of the family delivered the sentence, it was someone else’s responsibility to communicate directly with the defendant.

That said, the head of the family was not ignoring their words, so the lord raised his voice loudly.

“Is this how you treat a loyal subject who has devoted himself to the family for so long? What would the late Duke think if he saw this?”

In fact, most of those sentenced today had held their positions as loyal servants during the lifetime of the previous head of the family.

The head of the family, resembling his father but with eyes that held a deeper chill, looked down at them and gestured. Understanding the meaning, Ben walked toward his master.

Ben returned to his original position shortly after. He cleared his throat and conveyed the words he had heard from the head of the family.

“If you are so curious about the thoughts of the late duke, he says he will throw you into the underground so you can ask him directly.”

The lord’s face turned red and pale as he understood the implication of those words.

He opened his mouth to argue. However, just before he could make a sound, a cold voice fell from above.

“If you are dissatisfied with the punishment, write a letter of appeal and bring it to the head of the family’s office.”

It was the first time the head of the family, who had not spoken a word throughout the trial as if there was no value in mixing words with them, finally spoke.

Just as the lord’s expression began to brighten slightly at what seemed like a breakthrough, a sneer followed.

“If you enter the castle while under the edict of prohibition, you must be prepared to face the consequences.”

The law stated that anyone who entered the castle under the edict of prohibition would have their ankles cut off.

It meant that if they wanted to appeal, they should be ready to lose an ankle.

Realizing he was being mocked, the lord’s face turned even redder than before. However, before he could say anything, the head of the family waved his hand. The waiting knights dragged the criminal out.

It was blatant tyranny, but no one could refute it.

Currently, the castle was occupied by the army that the head of the family had gathered over three years.

In a situation where the blade was closer than the law, the mere fact that a trial was held, however formal, was a stroke of luck. This was because Sezna, who was detained underground, was not brought to the courtroom. It meant a death sentence without a verdict.

Nevertheless, not many went quietly. Most struggled, and a few silently sharpened their blades.

Among them, only one person was smiling.

Merwen, who was dragged out last, saw a familiar figure as she was being transported to the castle gate.

She called out behind the man who was striding forward.

“Shall I tell you why Iella didn’t come?”

Sioden stopped walking and turned around. Merwen approached him. The knights escorting her hesitated, but seeing that the head of the family said nothing, they briefly let her go.

Stopping at a distance where they could properly face each other, Merwen smiled brightly.

Confirming that one seat in the courtroom was empty as expected, she looked up at him and opened her mouth.

“Am I right?”

At that moment, Sioden Raslet had that same expression.

A lifetime of boredom, like an ancient tree rooted in one place, mixed with the gloomy shards of rising negative impulses.

People with such faces easily commit suicide.

Merwen said.

“I have no expectations of you.”

“……”

“Just look at what you brought as ‘improvement.’”

Objectively speaking, the verdict handed down today was worthy of being recorded in history.

No head of the Raslet family had ever punished so many vassals at once.

It was quiet now because the army was gathered at the lord’s castle; if the head of the family’s power had been even slightly weaker, there would have been dissent long ago.

Or, in a few years or months, a rebellion could actually occur.

The verdict handed down today was that shocking.

However, Merwen dismissed all of it without hesitation.

No matter how many paid for their sins, it would be meaningless for one person.

The man she mocked looked down at her with his deep blue eyes and said,

“You’re babbling about something you already know as if it’s great information.”

He coldly sneered.

“What a waste of time.”

Merwen silently observed the man who was mocking her with disdain. Soon, she realized what had caused the miscalculation.

She sighed.

“You should have experienced being loved.”

Believing that Sioden could feel the same despair she did was a misjudgment.

“Since you’ve never been loved, you don’t even know how painful it is to lose that.”

There was no further response.

Sioden turned his back on her again, unable to find any value in her. Someone approached him then—a knight who had been by his side since childhood.

The knight, who used to blush just at the sight of her, now avoided her gaze.

He took a letter from his cloak and handed it to his lord. Sioden received it and broke the wax seal.

Merwen muttered as she blankly watched the scene until the knight turned him around by the shoulder.

“What a waste.”

But it’s okay.

They would soon meet again.

* * *

Not long after reading Demian’s letter, Sioden came to see me.

At that time, I was pacing the room like a mad person, unable to accept the contents of the letter. I was still reeling from the aftermath of having cried.

When Sioden entered the room, he was in formal attire. It was a day when the trial was held in the main hall, so he must have come right after it ended.

As soon as he saw my face, he asked,

“Have you been crying?”

Before I could respond, he corrected himself.

“That was a rude remark, wasn’t it? It wasn’t intentional.”

However, even if he had said something much more rude, it wouldn’t have registered in my ears at that moment.

Caught up in my complicated emotions, I stood there, forgetting to answer, and Sioden rephrased his question.

“What’s wrong?”

As he kept probing, words reflexively rose in my throat. Did he not know that Demian had sent me a letter? It was a mistake not to check the letter in between.

But what came out of my mouth was a much less composed accusation.

“Why, why didn’t you check the letter?”

I knew this was an absurd accusation.

But if Sioden had known the contents of Demian’s letter today, he certainly would have prevented it.

I informed him of the fact I had to face as soon as I opened the letter.

“Demian is coming to Raslet.”

[-I’ll be heading to where you are soon.]

Demian had written that in the letter.

It was hard to believe that he thought I would be delighted to hear that news and even wrote a letter about it.

While I felt utterly despairing as if the world had turned upside down by the news of Demian’s visit, Sioden remained calm. He said matter-of-factly,

“I received a report about his arrival on the way here. It seems he has already sent a separate letter to inform you.”

He was definitely coming to take me away.

Demian had no understanding of social niceties, etiquette, or emotions at all. For him to specifically write “to where you are” in the letter was undoubtedly a veiled threat to wait for him quietly.

I felt like tears were about to flow again. Just before a disaster of crying in front of Sioden occurred, I turned my body to compose myself.

It was then that Sioden stepped in to prevent me from retreating.

“I only checked the letter because there were too many eyes on it. I won’t do the same in the future.”

As his gentle voice came closer, his hand approached my face. Unlike me, who had stiffened in surprise, Sioden naturally wiped away the tears from my eyes and asked,

“Iella, did you cry because you don’t want Lord Rowen to come?”

Iella. Sioden called my name.

Only then did I realize that I had been acting far too recklessly in front of him.

I took a trembling breath and explained.

“Demian will do everything to take me to Rowen.”

“Do you not want to go south with him?”

Sioden immediately added,

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to go.”

His voice sounded inexplicably pleasing.

I couldn’t understand what context led Sioden to feel that way, and I blinked in confusion when he took it a step further.

“If you wish, I can ensure that Lord Rowen does not visit the castle.”

That wouldn’t do. I shook my head at the rising anxiety.

“No, I have to meet Demian.”

It was too late for Sioden to stop me. I had already received Demian’s letter.

Having read his promise to come, avoiding Demian would only lead to greater troubles in the future.

What on earth would I do when I met Demian? As I struggled to find the words in my complicated thoughts, Sioden spoke in a gentler tone.

“I know that I have not built trust as a husband.”

However, we were never in a relationship where trust could be established.

The marriage vows that others strive to uphold for a lifetime were merely empty formalities for us, conscious of how others perceived us.

In this marriage, notions of trust and love were nothing but fanciful talk.

Yet, Sioden acted as if that hollow covenant held some validity.

“But if you tell me what you are concerned about, I promise to do my best to prevent it.”

His words instinctively raised a question in my mind.

“Why?”

“Is it difficult to persuade you with just the words that I want to?”

His face, observing my expression, held a kindness that seemed to try to lessen the discomfort of the situation.

Yet, despite his efforts, Sioden’s words sounded strange.

It wasn’t just because he rarely expressed a desire to ‘do’ something.

I swallowed the question that struggled to escape my breath. Why do you want to treat me kindly?

What kind of relationship do we have?

Sioden quietly observed my silence and reached an unexpected conclusion.

“You’re trembling quite severely.”

He took my hand. His grip was firm enough to be supportive but not painful, making it hard to pull away.

Sioden led me to a chair near the fireplace and sat me down.

He brought over the fur he always kept warm near the fire and draped it over me. I could hear his footsteps moving to the back of the armchair, where his hand rested just above my shoulder.

Above me, his voice came down, still soft but infused with strength.

“First, we will move your residence to the main hall, and then we will correct the wrongs one by one.”

No, I didn’t care about that. The words that couldn’t find their way out swirled in my throat.

Sioden continued speaking.

“I will return everything that was originally yours.”

His words didn’t make sense. There was nothing that belonged to me in this household. There never had been.

Yet, the tenderness in his voice made it feel taboo to question him.

With a slight distance between us, I began to realize what Sioden’s words and actions revealed.

“If you grant me the opportunity to make amends, I promise not to disappoint you twice.”

It was a fleeting sentiment that had only appeared in discarded fantasies—affection.

Before I could even guess where that unfounded feeling came from, a polite request followed.

“So, will you give me just one chance?”